Bunkbeds

My arms and legs strained and struggled as I climbed onto the top bunk…one of several bunks at the old camp house known as “deer camp”. I recalled the same straining and struggling as a child…back then the problem was not old age but the lack thereof. I always had the top bunk; my younger brother always got the bottom. Probably my parents did this for safety reasons. I remember pleading, “It’s not fair”. That was the common rebuttal used in response to most of my parent’s edicts, rules and household proclamations. But it did no good as my brother remained younger than I...even to this day.

My father built those bunkbeds from a sheet of plywood and left over wall studs. There was no inner spring and only a simple thin mattress supported by the plywood. I am sure that the Serta Company would have classified it as “extra super firm”. It was completely off the Sleep Number scale. But at the age of six it was most comfortable and at that time the term “back pain” was not in my vocabulary.

Now my son has built his sons bunkbeds…beautiful bunkbeds out of redwood. How interesting to discover those tiny threads that string life together…those threads that tie generation to generation.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for those wonderful memories from childhood.
Thank you, Lord, for my children and my children’s children
Please watch over all these children until the day we bunk in Your camp.
Amen