Worst Spanking (Stories About Me)

I am not sure why this story happens to be the first in my new "Stories About Me" category, but it is.

In thinking about these stories, I realized that the telling of these stories may sometimes be different from their original rendering simply because they were sometimes told in conjunction with something we were discussing at the time.

For instance, I used the word "spanking" in my title - mainly because I thought it did not sound as harsh as the word we always used to describe corporal punishment:  "whipping" or in the vernacular - "WHOOPING". . .

It always seemed important for my brother and sister ( who were much older than me) to point out that they received far more whippings than I did as a child.  For some strange reason, this always made me feel guilty - as if I should have demanded spankings at the hands of our parents. I did, in fact, receive fewer spankings, but now I like to point out that it was because I was a much better behaved child.

Being a compliant child, I probably was a little easier to manage - but the fact is, by the time I arrived, my parents were a little more mellow.

I do remember the worst whipping I ever received - in fact if memory serves me correctly - I received TWO whippings on this particular occasion. 

Jim and Ruth Barnette lived next door to us when I was a kid in Cedartown, Georgia.  Next to them, lived my best friend, Steve. 

Steve and I were the same age and had been fast friends since before Kindergarten.  I think sometimes, that it may have been a friendship of convenience but we really did have other kids in the neighborhood.  Unfortunately one was erratic and unpredictable in his behavior and the other was a girl.

Jim and Ruth kept a beautiful yard. There were shrubs, green grass, and flowers - in fact during the early summer we had to move to the far side of the road when walking in front of their house, just to avoid all the "June Bugs". 

I don't know why but on one particular day, Steve and I targeted Jim and Ruth for mischief.
My family had grilled out some time earlier and Steve and I had come upon the idea of mixing the used ashes and charcoal with water to form some sort of brew.  We were always finding reasons to mix stuff with water:  on several occasions we concocted "Ant Cures" and proceeded to pour the compound on ant hills in my yard; another time we discovered that when you briskly stir a charcoal and water mixture, it will produce a foam - like soap - which is why we tried to scrub my patio with it.

So we ended up with a bucket of water and charcoal and nothing to do.

To this day, I do not know who came up with the idea - mischief happens that way, it just kind of evolves- but somehow we noticed that Jim and Ruth were not at home.  So we took our bucket of gray matter over to their carport.  There we commenced to pouring the mixture into just about anything that would hold liquid:  an unoccupied flower pot, a pair of Ruth's outdoor slippers, the indention in the seat of Jim's riding lawn mower.

I seem to remember something deliciously satisfying about darting around from evil deed to evil deed - almost like opening gifts at Christmas.

My memory is fuzzy on details at this point but I do recall running to hide when I heard my Mom calling me.  I think we had already finished our work, but like Adam and Eve - it only took the sound of a voice to snap me back into reality and to allow conviction to seize me.

I remember hiding behind a shrub at the corner of our house.

I think that was when I got my first whipping.
The second one came after Jim talked to my parents - he came to our back door and I remember hearing him say something about not wanting to get us boys in trouble.

To add insult to injury, I later learned that Steve's parents had received a similar call from Jim and -get this - Steve received "a good talking to" from his Dad  . . .

... a good talking to!?!?!

He tried to raise the ante by saying that his Dad could talk pretty hard at times . . . yeah tell that to my behind.

There were all kinds of lessons for me in this little episode.  I learned about conviction, guilt; I learned about how sin can bring momentary pleasure; I think I even learned a little about redemption - once the price was paid for my sin (in this case, my punishment) my relationship to my parents was restored as well as my relationship with the neighbors.

In my life today, redemption still works that way only I trust in One who has ultimately taken the punishment for all of my evil deeds (as well as the evil deeds of Steve and everybody else in the world)  - that having been done, corrects my relationship with my heavenly Father and with everything else in His creation.