owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen owen
Oh No! Owen!
104 I gain understanding from your precepts;
therefore I hate every wrong path.
105 Your word is a lamp to my feet
and a light for my path. Psalm 119:104-105 (NIV)
104 I gain understanding from your precepts;
therefore I hate every wrong path.
105 Your word is a lamp to my feet
and a light for my path. Psalm 119:104-105 (NIV)
Owen was one of those kids. Full of energy, he never seemed to miss an opportunity to give me a
new gray hair or two. He and his dad had recently moved to Temecula from the South and Owenâ
€™s charming five-year-old version of a southern drawl made it obvious that he was a fresh
transplant. His dad worked hard to make a good life for the two of them, but money was scarce and
Owen had none of the little extras that his classmates enjoyed. What he did have in abundance,
though, was confidence and a lively spirit.
Owen’s trademark phrase has stuck in my head all these years: when confronted with anything
that he either didn’t understand or found disagreeable, he would turn to me and say, “But
WHY, Mrs. Williams? But WHY?â€� Now you have to say this with his accent to get its full effectâ
€¦ sort of like “but WAH, Miz Willims?â€� Owen was never content until he knew the why of a
situation and I was more aware of my classroom decisions that year than ever before.
It was Owen who gave me one of my worst, and yet oddly fondest days, as a preschool teacher. It
was summer and we had decided to take the kids to Balboa Park in San Diego. Since we had to pay
to charter a bus, there was a $10 fee for this trip. So, bright and early on that fateful Friday, the three
classrooms of children who would be going on the 60 mile (one way!) trip lined up on the playground.
The teachers did a head count and checked it against their sign-up sheets. I counted twelve little
heads. I counted twelve parent signatures. Did everyone use the bathroom? Did everyone have their
lunch? Good! Let’s get on the bus!
We were halfway to San Diego when I realized to my horror that although there were twelve
signatures, one family had signed twice. I had permission to take eleven children, but I had taken
twelve with me! Who was my unofficial traveler? None other than Owen. Cell phones were not yet
a reality, so I had no choice but to wait until we arrived in San Diego to run to a pay phone and inform
my director of my mistake. Owen’s dad could not be reached until we were on our way back
and thankfully, he was very understanding, but sadly he was a little embarrassed. The only reason he
had not given permission for Owen to attend the field trip was his inability to pay the $10 fee.
No one enjoyed our outing more than Owen and no one enjoyed it less than me. I must have said
Owen’s name every other minute while we were visiting the museum and the Secret Service
would have been proud of my watchful eye on Owen’s little blond crew cut-topped head. Owen
was confident and secure that he was in the right place at the right time, and not one “But WHY?â
€� was uttered. I, on the other hand, was keenly aware of the fact that Owen was in the wrong place
at the wrong time and that I was charged with his well being until I could deliver him safely back to
where he belonged. I was silently imploring, “But WHY?� with such regularity that Owen
himself would have been proud. By afternoon, my little wanderer had worn us both out with his
endless energy and when we got back on the bus he happily curled up next to me and slept all the
way home. All was well in his world and, as far as he was concerned, it had never been otherwise
that day. Humbled and embarrassed, I asked for and was granted forgiveness for my mistake as I
delivered a sleepy Owen to his dad upon our return.
As adults, we all have “But WHY?� moments with God, but unlike Owen, we sometimes have
little or no interest in hearing the answer. As a result, we often get on the “bus� without
permission, falsely confident that we are safe and that our decision to take that particular route is
appropriate. We willfully plunge into situations without pausing, even for a moment, to prayerfully ask
our Father for direction. We say to ourselves, " It seems so right. How could we pass up this
opportunity? Surely this is what God wants for us! Who has time to stop and pray anyway, and what
if the answer is “no�?" And so, not surprisingly, we find ourselves far from home, realizing our
mistake and unsure of what to do next.
Are there consequences for our impulsive, unthinking decisions? Of course, but even as we face the
outcome of getting on the "wrong bus", we are blessed with a forgiving Father, who endures our
doubts and forgives our impetuous behavior, all while watching over us every moment of our lives. He
sent His son, Jesus Christ, to show us the way and yet we still manage to head for the wrong
destination. Does God respond to this foolishness in anger, abandoning us to our mistakes? No, just
as I has called to little Owen, God patiently calls our name over and over until we heed His call and
return safely home to Him. “23Then you will go on your way in safety, and your foot will not
stumble; 24 when you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be
sweet�. Proverbs 3:23-24 (NIV)
©2008 Elizabeth Williams
new gray hair or two. He and his dad had recently moved to Temecula from the South and Owenâ
€™s charming five-year-old version of a southern drawl made it obvious that he was a fresh
transplant. His dad worked hard to make a good life for the two of them, but money was scarce and
Owen had none of the little extras that his classmates enjoyed. What he did have in abundance,
though, was confidence and a lively spirit.
Owen’s trademark phrase has stuck in my head all these years: when confronted with anything
that he either didn’t understand or found disagreeable, he would turn to me and say, “But
WHY, Mrs. Williams? But WHY?â€� Now you have to say this with his accent to get its full effectâ
€¦ sort of like “but WAH, Miz Willims?â€� Owen was never content until he knew the why of a
situation and I was more aware of my classroom decisions that year than ever before.
It was Owen who gave me one of my worst, and yet oddly fondest days, as a preschool teacher. It
was summer and we had decided to take the kids to Balboa Park in San Diego. Since we had to pay
to charter a bus, there was a $10 fee for this trip. So, bright and early on that fateful Friday, the three
classrooms of children who would be going on the 60 mile (one way!) trip lined up on the playground.
The teachers did a head count and checked it against their sign-up sheets. I counted twelve little
heads. I counted twelve parent signatures. Did everyone use the bathroom? Did everyone have their
lunch? Good! Let’s get on the bus!
We were halfway to San Diego when I realized to my horror that although there were twelve
signatures, one family had signed twice. I had permission to take eleven children, but I had taken
twelve with me! Who was my unofficial traveler? None other than Owen. Cell phones were not yet
a reality, so I had no choice but to wait until we arrived in San Diego to run to a pay phone and inform
my director of my mistake. Owen’s dad could not be reached until we were on our way back
and thankfully, he was very understanding, but sadly he was a little embarrassed. The only reason he
had not given permission for Owen to attend the field trip was his inability to pay the $10 fee.
No one enjoyed our outing more than Owen and no one enjoyed it less than me. I must have said
Owen’s name every other minute while we were visiting the museum and the Secret Service
would have been proud of my watchful eye on Owen’s little blond crew cut-topped head. Owen
was confident and secure that he was in the right place at the right time, and not one “But WHY?â
€� was uttered. I, on the other hand, was keenly aware of the fact that Owen was in the wrong place
at the wrong time and that I was charged with his well being until I could deliver him safely back to
where he belonged. I was silently imploring, “But WHY?� with such regularity that Owen
himself would have been proud. By afternoon, my little wanderer had worn us both out with his
endless energy and when we got back on the bus he happily curled up next to me and slept all the
way home. All was well in his world and, as far as he was concerned, it had never been otherwise
that day. Humbled and embarrassed, I asked for and was granted forgiveness for my mistake as I
delivered a sleepy Owen to his dad upon our return.
As adults, we all have “But WHY?� moments with God, but unlike Owen, we sometimes have
little or no interest in hearing the answer. As a result, we often get on the “bus� without
permission, falsely confident that we are safe and that our decision to take that particular route is
appropriate. We willfully plunge into situations without pausing, even for a moment, to prayerfully ask
our Father for direction. We say to ourselves, " It seems so right. How could we pass up this
opportunity? Surely this is what God wants for us! Who has time to stop and pray anyway, and what
if the answer is “no�?" And so, not surprisingly, we find ourselves far from home, realizing our
mistake and unsure of what to do next.
Are there consequences for our impulsive, unthinking decisions? Of course, but even as we face the
outcome of getting on the "wrong bus", we are blessed with a forgiving Father, who endures our
doubts and forgives our impetuous behavior, all while watching over us every moment of our lives. He
sent His son, Jesus Christ, to show us the way and yet we still manage to head for the wrong
destination. Does God respond to this foolishness in anger, abandoning us to our mistakes? No, just
as I has called to little Owen, God patiently calls our name over and over until we heed His call and
return safely home to Him. “23Then you will go on your way in safety, and your foot will not
stumble; 24 when you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be
sweet�. Proverbs 3:23-24 (NIV)
©2008 Elizabeth Williams