Last weekend our family took a much needed camping/fishing trip on the Little Niangua River in the Ozarks. Beautiful, brisk (sorry Darla/wimp) weather and just a hint of the fall colors. Easy there, I almost painted a mental image.

Anyway, we had been at the campsite for about 45 minutes with the tent set up and not much else, when Tabor, my oldest son, grabbed some sticks for marshmallow roasting. He started whittling off the twig ends and then suddenly looked over at Darla and I, holding his hand.

Several weeks ago, I spoke to a youth group about the practice of altruism. Defined as “the practice of placing others before oneself”, I had explained to my class that while it is a learned behavior, it needs to become instinctive in the life of a Christian. We are called to do this everyday. I struggle with it. I am not very altruistic and have to “practice” it still.

As Tabor turned to us with a hand full of blood from a seriously nasty knife cut that I have been kind enough to include a picture of on this very site, he said these words, only. “I just cut my hand bad. I am sorry, family, for ruining the camping trip. I’m really sorry.” As I recall these words, I tear up, again.

Tabor instinctively responded altruistically. Personally, I would have screamed, “Get me to a hospital, I’M GOING TO DIE!” He didn’t think of the right answer. No one, in crisis, THINKS about the right response. They respond from their heart. Now, even though I have always suspected it, I know Tabor’s heart.

Christ lived his life continuously, instinctively, altruistically. In this brief moment of Zimmerman family crisis, Tabor’s 15 words, gave me a glimpse deep into his heart. Thank God, I saw Christ.