On Fatherhood: Having, Becoming, Striving, and Abiding

     One of my first conscious memories is of me waiting for my father.  As a pastor, he had been out of town at a state convention meeting for our denomination.  He was expected home and the weather had turned bad.  I remember waiting with great anticipation for his return and had taken my perch atop the couch to look out the living room window.  The rain pelted the glass as I kept my eyes glued to our street.  Finally, I saw our old green Plymouth Fury III turn down our street and he was finally home.  As he drove toward our driveway, a flash of lightening exploded in the sky and the bolt parted directly over the car as if it were a great flash for the camera that was the memory of a young boy.

     I've always had a great love, respect, and affection for both of my parents.  My mother is a wonderful blessing to me. She has prayed for me, cared for me, ministered to me, and been gracious to me in more ways than I will ever be able to recall, communicate, or thank her for.  However, like many young boys, I was a self-proclaimed "Daddy's boy".  I wanted to be around him, to look like him, to talk like him, to smell like him, and to have a rocking' mustache like him (yep, a rocking' mustache).  He was, and is to this day, my hero and more than anything I wanted to be with him and for him to be proud of me. I did not have this love and admiration as a standard for him to achieve, I just loved my dad and wanted to be like him.

     Now, many years later, I have littles. Littles that aren't so little anymore. Little eyes watching, ears listening, minds processing, mental notes being taken about what it is to be a man, a Godly man, a husband, father, brother, friend, pastor, student, and most importantly a disciple of Jesus. I have a daughter who has spent the last 18 years, knowingly and unknowingly, creating standards and expectations about her future husband based largely on what she has seen in me. I have four boys who are, intentionally and unintentionally, developing a picture of what a Godly man is to be based on what they see, or don't see, in me.

Reality Check: I can't live up to that.

     Alone, I can do nothing. Wait, I can do something. I can, all by myself, give my children a terrible picture of manhood. All by myself I can be selfish, angry, harsh, impossible to please, arrogant, and the list goes on but it gets no better.

     But there is hope. Hope for my children and hope for eternity. In John 15:5, Jesus told his disciples, "I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing."

     Listen carefully to what Jesus said. "...he who abides in Me...". Not "he who works harder than anyone else". Not "he who is most naturally gifted". Not "he who is (fill in the blank)". None of those things, but rather it is in the abiding. It would appear that the way that I am to become the man I am to be, I need to do less striving and more abiding. As I walk tightly to Jesus, HE makes me to be who I need to be.

     I remember as a kid very regularly interrupting my dad during his Bible reading/study time or his prayer time. I remember coming into his office where he would be kneeling at a chair and I would climb on the backs of his legs while he prayed. I'm not sure I ever thought of myself as a distraction but I'm sure it was difficult to fellowship with God while I climbed on him like playground equipment. Seeing my dad (and my mom) with open Bible, diligently engaged in study and prayer were COMMON occurrences. They were living out the model of walking tightly to Jesus to be disciples of His, and my little eyes saw, my little ears heard, my little heart understood, and my little life was shaped.

     I'm not sure where in the last 40 years I got convinced that my effort was more important that His work in me. I'm not sure where I traded abiding for striving. However, I am thankful for the reminder to pay more attention to His work in me than my work FOR Him.


     ...and I learned this first from my dad.

Last place but still winning...

Today I finished my 7th half-marathon (2nd trail half). I finished my 7th half-marathon. I did not run a half-marathon.

For the last several weeks, ok months, my training has been sporadic at best. Some weeks I was diligent and consistent; other weeks, well...let's just say less than consistent. So, that being the reality, my expectations today were to finish. Not to compete, finish. Not to win my age group, finish. Not to stand on the podium, finish. And finish I did, in last place. Not last in my age group. LAST OVERALL. Like "the volunteers were waiting for me so they could clean up" kind of last. All the cars gone in the parking lot kind of last. Like "I told the people at the last water stop that there was no one behind me and I'll be the official sweeper" kind of last.

And I feel great.

I feel great because just a few years ago I could not have finished. I've now finished 7. I feel great because I'm healthier at 46 than I was at 26, or at 36. I feel great because I got to run/walk with a friend who I've not seen much in the last few years. I feel great because, even moving as slowly as I did, I ran/walked/slid/limped faster than all the people who slept in today. I feel great because I'm not competing against other runners. I feel great because I'm competing against not running, and I'm winning. I'm competing against heart disease and diabetes because my genes aren't helping much, and so far I'm winning. I'm competing against pride that makes me want to compete against other runners, and some days I'm winning. I feel great because even though physically today I've felt HORRIBLE, I'm winning because I finished. I was able to persevere. I was able to have the volunteer place a finishers medal around my neck (I'm thankful he hung around to give it to me, and I apologized in case I made him late for something).

I came in last and I feel great. Someone has to finish last in each race and today it was me, and I'm fine with that, because I finished. As I plodded along I prayed, I pondered, I enjoyed the sounds of the woods and the blessing of spending several hours in God's creation. I enjoyed the feeling of rain on my face, the conversation with new friends on the trail, the silence of solitary miles, and the blessing of each breath.

Spiritual life is much like today's race. Some seasons of life we are running smoothly and our feet are sure. Some seasons are painful and seem like the hill never stops. Some season are just plodding along, putting one foot in front of the other in what seems an un-ending repetition of steps exactly like the thousand before it. But friend, keep going. Keep moving. Keep walking/running/limping along. Finish.

"Therefore, since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every hindrance and the sin that so easily ensnares us. Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us, keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith. For the joy that lay before him, he endured the cross, despising the shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:1-2

The day God used a ham sandwich...

Today I was hungry. It was lunchtime so that made sense. I walked to the kitchen and made a simple ham sandwich. Not that I was necessarily craving a ham sandwich, but we had bread. We had ham. We had mustard. Yada, yada, yada, ...a ham sandwich. So, I ate a ham sandwich and a half of a glass of sweet tea.

When I finished lunch I thought, "I want something else."

But then I thought, "Why?"

My hunger had been abated. I had plenty. My body needed food for energy, and sufficient food had been provided. Why did I want more?

I wanted more because I've allowed myself to be conditioned to have more than I need. Not only allowed it, I've run to it. My hunger had been satisfied. I had plenty to drink. I had been able to walk to the kitchen inside a home that is filled with healthy people. I took food out of a refrigerator that was running on electricity inside that house. I turned on a water faucet that brought clean water inside that house. I had just finished running errands in a truck that runs well. I could see to get my food, I could smell it as I prepared it, I could taste it as I ate.

I have so very much. Why did I want more?

I wanted more because I am selfish. I am predisposed to want more than I need. I am conditioned to think that enough isn't enough, but that more is enough. Until it isn't. But I am redeemed to be more than just what I am in myself. I have been made alive in Jesus to be an adopted child of the King, a co-heir with Jesus, and sealed by the Holy Spirit to the praise and glory of God. I am being made more into the likeness of Jesus and I am thankful. Thankful that He is gracious to finish the work in me that He has started. I am thankful that I am loved by God.

I am thankful for how God used the simplicity of a ham sandwich to show me how 'unsimplistic' I am but need to be.

What did you have for lunch?