"Stop bugging me! How many times do I have to tell you I don't want to go to the crummy Bible study," the boy shouted at his father. "Don't speak to your father like that," the boy's mother said. "Yeah," echoed the father. "If anybody can use a Bible study it's this kid. "Look," the boy shot back; "it's the same every Saturday morning. For over a year now. Ever since that old guy moved in next door."

"Your father means well," said the mother. "He only wants what's best for you." "Give me a break," responded the boy. "How would you like to be asked the same question week in and week out? Doesn't he know the meaning of the word no," the boy asked? "You don't think I know what no means," shouted the father? "Well how's this pal; no you can't borrow my car tonight." "But you promised," protested the boy.

"He's right. You're not being fair," the mother joined in. "I don't care," shot back the father. "This kid's got to be taught to show me some respect. How else will he ever learn?" "God does want you to respect your father," the mother pleaded. "He doesn't deserve respect," replied the boy. "I hate him and his god" "That does it pal," the father shouted as he quickly started rising from his chair and lunged toward his son. "Leave me alone," the boy screamed as he slammed the door behind him and stormed out of the room. Although today's scene was by far the worse, the mother had envisioned it happening for months. Charlie and her son were like two peas in a pod. Each of them was headstrong, stubborn and convinced the other was totally wrong.

With Bible's in hand the parents were walking across their back yard and headed towards their neighbors. The boy was off somewhere sulking. It was a beautiful summer day and the study would be held in the man's yard. Most of the regulars had already arrived. "I'll say it again Martha; that kid's a loser," "I don't know what I did to deserve a kid like him. Where did he come from? He sure doesn't take after anyone from my side of the family like the sister of someone I know," he added. "Please leave my sister out of this," Martha replied. "You know I don't like talking about her problem," she added. "Yeah right," Charlie responded. "It will make you sick to your tummy," he added sarcastically.

Martha felt like screaming at him but once again allowed herself to be held hostage by Charlie's high blood pressure. "I could care less about your sister anyhow," Charlie said. "It's this kid that's all screwed up that I care about." "He's only a boy," said Martha. "He's just going through a phase." "Some phase," Charlie responded. "That kid's been a walking mouth ever since he learned to talk. And those practical jokes of his. How long do we have to put up with them?" "They're harmless," replied his wife. "He's a good boy. He doesn't mean any harm.".

"Yeah right, try telling that to my brother Claude. You know how he's been struggling with that self-image thing. And just as he and his shrink are finally making some progress, along comes the kid sprinkling that dehydrated cow manure garden stuff into my brother's sneakers. And don't tell me that if Claude weren't a little tipsy that day he would have noticed what was going on. It doesn't matter. Did you see how he started sweating like a pig and that goofy bewildered look on his face? Do you think Claude thought it was funny? There he is, in the middle of the party, knowing he stinks rotten and for the life of him he can't figure out why. "

"And how do you think I felt? The first time I have my new boss and his snooty wife over for a cookout and the kid pulls a stunt like that. Everyone's avoiding Claude like the plague. I'll never forget the look on their faces as they watched the poor slob checking and double-checking his shoes and clothes and even sniffing his armpits for crying out loud. And, all the time he's trying to project a positive self-image, by strutting all over the place smiling with that stupid grin of his."

"And everyone's avoiding him like he's some kind of animated dung heap. And my boss's hysterical wife is screaming she's going to throw up and demanding to be taken home. And don't tell me the kid had no way of knowing the old bag was allergic to cows. Don't keep making excuses for him. What will they think of me having a brother like Claude and a first class wise guy for a kid? If they ever find out where all related I can kiss my career goodbye," he concluded, as the hammers of Hell started pounding on his head.

What can I do Lord," Martha prayed silently? "I can't change my son. I can't make him believe in You. And I can't make him come to the Bible study. I know that if he winds up in Hell it's his own fault. But I love him so much. You brought him into my life. You allowed me to nurse him and care for him and love him. Thinking of him being separated from You throughout eternity is more than I can bear. Father You know I pray for him every day. Every Saturday morning before breakfast I ask You to get him to the Bible study one way or another. You know I've been praying like this for over a year now, ever since the study began next door. Every single Saturday I have my hopes up only to have then dashed. Not only does he refuse to come but he doesn't even want to have anything to do with You," she prayed.

"Then there's my husband Charlie," she continued. "He's a good provider. He really does want what's best for our son. He means well, but he goes about it the wrong way. You know how many times I've pleaded with Charlie to go easier but he says the kid makes him crazy. I'm worried about him Father. So is his doctor. He says Charlie is too hyper and has to learn to calm down or else he's going to blow his stack one of these days. Charlie's answer is always the same; "If you had to live with that wise guy kid of mine your blood pressure would be up too."

"Lord I get sick to my stomach worrying about the two of them. I don't know how much more I can stand. I'm worn out. I can't sleep at night worrying about what will happen to me if Charlie has a stroke or heart attack. I don't know how I can make it without him. Lord please bless Charlie and our son and get him to go to the Bible study real soon. He won't listen to Charlie or me. Maybe someone at the study can get through to him. Please Lord, please," Martha pleaded.

Although his formal education didn't extend beyond high school the wise man was well read and had a certain maturity and wisdom that only comes through learning from life experiences. People were constantly seeking him out for advice. It wasn't as though they thought he had all the answers. They knew better, but his council was consistently helpful. Abounding in patience, gentleness and understanding, it was evident to all that this 86 year old man truly loved God and his fellow man. Around town he was affectionately known as "the wise man."

The teen-age boy living next door was something else however. He was a proud; impatient; self-centered know it all that saw himself as a rear cool dude. On this particular Saturday morning as he was sitting at his picnic table with his back toward the house, a little bird flew over his head and crashed into the sliding glass doors knocking itself unconscious. The boy bent over and picked up the bird. Suddenly he had a brainstorm. The more that he thought about it the more excited he became. This would be his masterpiece he thought to himself. The whole town would hear about it. It might even make the local newspaper. He would be as well known as the wise man.

Meanwhile over at the man's back yard the bible study was going well for everyone except Martha. The man was teaching about the sinfulness of worry. Martha was having a hard time accepting as sin, something, which to her seemed quite normal. She always worried ever since she could remember. It came natural to her, almost like it was her second nature. If someone didn't worry Martha reasoned that there was something wrong with them. Either they didn't understand the gravity of the situation or else they didn't care. No one could accuse her of not caring. In fact she was known as a worrywart. Her ulcer, which she developed shortly after her son was born, was proof that she cared deeply.

Today however after distinguishing between the difference between legitimate concern and worry, the man is trying to show the group that worrying is sin because Jesus commands us not to worry (Matthew 6:25). The man said the worrier is self-centered as opposed to being God-centered. By worrying we presume to know God does not know how to run His world. It is the creature's insistence that his or her own will be done rather than God's. It is actually self-worship (Matthew 6:24-24).

"You see,' he added, "the worrier doesn't really believe the One who is perfect in love really wants what's best for His children. Nor does the worrier really believe that the One who is infinite in wisdom knows what's best for His children. And the worrier doesn't really believe the One who is Almighty has the power to bring about that which is best for His children. Although they would never admit it, the worrier believes it is his or her own love, which is perfect, and that he or she truly knows what's best. But worriers do know they don't have the power to assure that they get their own way and so they sink into a feeling of dread and gloom," he concluded.

"That's easy for you to say," the mother thought to herself. My son is headed toward Hell and my husband is going to blow his stack and I'm going to be all alone and he's telling me I shouldn't worry. That's stupid. How can I not worry? Lord please help me. Please save my son and husband from destroying themselves," she silently asked God.

Seated next to his wife and gazing beyond the man, Charlie spotted his son sitting at their picnic table. Catching the boy's eye and displaying his most phony pious smile he gestured to his son to join them. To his amazement the boy shouted, "I changed my mind. I'll be right over." Then, with his right arm fully extended over his head and his hand clutched into a tight fist, the boy started slowly walking over to the Bible study. "I can't believe I'm seeing this, Charlie said to himself." I finally got through to him. But that smile, I've seen it before. And the raised fist. Isn't that some kind of victory sign," he wondered? What's he up to this time," he asked himself?

When Martha saw he son on his way over to the study all she could do was say, "thank You Jesus, thank You for changing my boy's heart," as she waited for the boy to arrive. She also noticed the raised fist and wondered what he may have been clutching. Emboldened by the surge in her faith she prayed; "Please Jesus let it be that tiny New Testament he thinks he stole from the hospital chapel last summer. I know I'm asking a lot, but You can make it happen if only You would," she said hoping she was on a roll with her prayer requests today.

Although all eyes were on the boy as he slowly made his way over to the study, the man continued teaching. "We've all got to stop worrying and trust God instead," he said. "God commands us to trust Him (Psalm 4:5). He promises us perfect peace if we will (Isaiah 26:3). It's impossible to trust God and worry at the same time," he said at the exact moment the boy arrived.

Now, standing a couple of feet from the man, the wise guy said to the wise man, "I've got a little bird in my hand. You're supposed to be so smart; tell us, is it dead or alive?" If the man said it was dead the boy would release the bird, which had regained consciousness. If he said it was alive the boy would squeeze his fist and crush the little bird. "Either way you loose old man," the boy thought to himself.

"Oh my God," Martha said to herself. He's up to his old tricks again. And here I've been thinking he had a change of heart and my prayers were finally being answered. All he wants to do is trick the man. And I'm supposed to not worry. How can I not worry with a son like this," she asked herself?

"You're making yourself look like the jerk you are," Charlie said to himself. "This guy's smart but there's way he can possibly know the answer. That's like asking how high is up, you idiot. And everybody knows I'm your father," he thought to himself as he started to get a little dizzy.

All eyes were now on the man and boy. "What will his answer be? What could he possibly say," they wondered? As the man pondered the question his thoughts momentarily drifted back to a certain unforgettable Halloween night and another young boy twenty years previously. That experience was destined to be a turning point in his life for which he would forever remain grateful. Once again the Lord has brought a young boy into his life in an equally dramatic way.

The man continued thinking. He scratched his head. He looked off into the distance seemingly oblivious to the people around him. Then he closed his eyes tightly and slowly rubbed his chin. Everyone was waiting with eager anticipation for his response. Martha was bent over in her chair with arms folded as though clutching her stomach. Charlie's elbows were resting on his knees while he held his head in his hands. Finally; with his eyes riveted on the boy's he softly replied; "Son, it will be as you want it to be". Then, turning to the group he said: "Stop worrying O you of little faith! Can you think of a better way to demonstrate your love of God than by trusting Him in all circumstances? You can choose to trust God and you can also choose not to trust Him. The choice is yours. It will be as you want it to be."

"My Bible says that Jesus was only talking about worrying about food, clothing and something to drink. But he doesn't say I shouldn't worry about things like will my best friend Rick be able to move his legs again or be paralyzed for the rest of his life; or will the tests show that my favorite teacher's cancer has spread? You don't have to be a rocket scientist to know that if I didn't worry about these things there's something big time wrong with me. Anyone who doesn't worry ain't right. How can I not worry," the boy said?

"Funny you should say that," the man replied. "Lord willing, next week we will be studying just how we can overcome worry. Why don't you join us," he asked? "I might just take you up on that," the boy answered. "You'll need a Bible," the man said. "Do you have one," he continued? "Just this little one I lifted from the hospital last summer," the boy replied as he took a well-worn New Testament out of his hip pocket. "But I want a bigger one like you have so that we'll be evenly matched," he added.

"You got it kid," the boy's father joined in. "I picked up a good study Bible for you about six months ago in case you changed your mind about joining us on Saturday mornings. Do you want it pal," the father asked his son? "Deal," replied his son. "I won't be like you though," he said to his father. "I'll read it during the week and not just on Saturday mornings. "We'll see if this wise man here is a smart as everyone says," he added.

The boy's mother may have appeared to be a silent observer to this scene but her mind was on fast forward. "O my, look how worn his pocket New Testament is. He's been reading it and I never even knew. Did you hear what he said about Jesus and worrying," she thought to herself? "And he brought up poor Rick and that nice teacher. My boy's been looking for answers. Didn't Jesus say that everyone who searches will find," she asked herself?

Next the thought that faith comes from hearing the Word of God (Romans 10:17) flashed through her mind. And from that moment on she knew without a doubt that her boy was being drawn to the Savior and her prayers were being answered. "Thank you Jesus, thank you," she prayed silently while dabbing her eyes with a tissue.