Being a Father

I spoke to an acquaintance yesterday about the child we are adopting.  This acquaintance is about my age, single, works where I do with a parallel job so he makes a little more than I do.  But while he has himself to support, I support my wife and three kids.  He was appalled that we would think to adopt another.  He couldn't see how I supported my present family, much less go through an adoption with its accompanying costs and future support needs, on my salary.
  We talked about our students, too.  I spoke of a particular student who had been absent a lot, how I had asked about her sickness.  The curious thing my acquaintance said was, "Well, your idea of a father must be very different from mine."  He went on to describe how his father would lay down the law and you did as you were told.  I explained that while my father had some similarities to that concept, I felt that I owed my children and my students something a little different.  No one would even begin to think that I went easy on my kids (by birth or by occupation).  I have earned the reputation for being a demanding and exacting teacher.  But I also hope that my kids see the other side too, where I am there to support and encourage them to be the best God made them to be.  I think they do, most of the time.  Except for those who call me evil.
  And yet, I think I fail most of the time.  Perhaps I take myself too seriously, or think too much of my place in their lives.  Unfourtunately, no one really knows how I am doing, including myself, until we see the result.  I always say I am more interested in where my kids end up (10, 20 years down the road) than how they do tomorrow.  God lays such convoluted paths for us that no one really knows where they will be.  As Jesus said, "Do not worry about tomorrow.  Today has enough trouble of its own."
   So why do I think I fail?  Well, according to short-term results, and some long-term.  My own children are focused in the wrong direction, talking more about Tolkien, Harry Potter, and Greek mythology than the true Lord and Saviour they have pledged to.  They whine and complain and bicker more than any children I know.  And as a leader, I fail my wife.  She has trouble being satisfied with what she has and hungers for better.  This is not the family of a man guided and dedicated to God.
  And yet...David was a man after God's own heart, and his family was in shambles.  He wrote psalms we still sing, solidified a nation, killed a giant, all through his dedication to God.  He also stole sacred bread from the temple, murdered Uriah, and married his mistress Bathsheba.  And yet...a man after God's own heart.
  When my daughter was very young, I would kneel by her bedside and pray.  As a young father, it was very apparent that my daughter would make her own choices, and while I could affect those the choices were hers to make.  To obey or fight.  To love or strike.  To plug her ears or to listen.  To be humble or proud.  As a teacher and older father, nothing has changed.  The choices of good and evil still lie before my children and I can only influence their choices.  I can do no more.
  Maybe that is what made David a man of God.  Not that he did what was right (apparently), but that his heart was in God's hand.  And when he sinned, he expected judgement and accepted it.  He recognized God for who he is and did not fight him.
  Lord, grant me patience and a desire for your heart.  Father, teach me to be hopeful as you are for us, never failing in my love for my children.  Holy Spirit, work in the lives of my dear ones.  Work your miracles that we may meet in the sky and finally be at peace.

The Inquisition

  When Jesus walked the earth, all those many years ago, he spoke with rich and poor, men and women, even little children, calling them all to himself.  He reached tenderly to the hearts and met the needs of so many with grace and piercing insight.  Yet he was a man without a home, with no place to lay his head.  He placed a good deal of emphasis on the good soil of a person's heart, for though he spoke to the hard-hearted many times, it is clear that for most it was "easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."

  Riches and hard hearts go hand in hand in Jesus' teaching, indeed, throughout most of scripture.  There are the exceptions: David, Zacchaeus, Matthew, Solomon, and some others.  But for the most part it appears that riches have a hardening effect; it is like wealth sucks the moisture from the soul leaving it dry and hard.  So what about me?  I am rich, at least, when compared with so many around me.  I live in a nice apartment with plenty of food and toys.  I have air conditioning and my children go to a private school.  I have money saved up for retirement, a fair chunk.  Are these riches hardening me?

  Would I even know?  Does the ant trapped in amber know it will soon be forever encased while it struggles?  I fear that my eyes are not as open as I think.  My lord and master focused on the poor, those who know their need for a saviour, who have so little to hope for.  And yet here I am, focusing my time on the rich.  I have most of my life.  It is my calling, I say, for do they not also need a Saviour?  Surely, but success has been so scarce.

  In this time of enlightenment and free speech, I can speak of my Lord, his death and resurrection, without fear of retribution.  So then why is it such a rare speech on my lips?  Oh sure, I acknowledge his role in every facet of my life, to anyone who lends an ear, but....but....is that enough?

  In Cartagena, my family and friends were taken on a tour of the Governor's Residence, which shared walls with the residence of the Inquisition when it was in town, so many years ago.  This was an extension of the Spanish Inquisition of legend, those who tortured people so cruelly in the supposed attempt to exonerate their soul.  At that time, all it took was an accusation, based in truth or lie, to put them to the tongs.  A simple offense could place you in the rack if you did not amend it in time.

  The cost for speaking of Jesus as Lord as one you know personally, apart from the Church and its traditions, would certainly put you in danger of being purified.  Would I have spoken up then?  Would I have placed my family and myself at risk, simply to pledge myself to an unseen Lord?  I don't think so.  Then as now, I would have followed the prescribed method of speaking carefully and in the right times and places, of applying tact to my own beliefs.  I would have hidden the Light within me within my layers of amber as counseled.

  Am I any different now?  It is no longer the rack or the stocks but the derision and scoffing that threaten me with so many feathery strokes.  Watch me disappear and speak silent words, living in a dead hope of my own traditions and excuses.  See me keep my family healthy and well fed, provided for with so many powerless words.  Look to the future, where I raise children and support a wife that adapts to the world we live in.

My Saviour died for the world.  I hide for it.

What I want to be when I grow up

When I was about 4 years old, my father was in the Air Force Reserves.  Once I was on the field when he jumped from an airplane, and I watched him parachute to the ground.  I turned to my mother and told her that, when I was older, "I'm gonna be a preacher, a teacher, and jump out of airplanes."  Just like my father.  I loved my father with child-like abandon then.

  As I got older, things changed.  I began to resent and fear my father as the harsh disciplinarian who was strict and unfeeling.  At the same time, I wanted to please my father and be worthy of the praise he showered on me constantly.  I felt so unworthy of the praise, as I only did what made sense to me at the time.  I began to see my father as someone who didn't really see me, but just saw who he wanted me to be.  So I grew distant from my father and mistrusting.  Balanced in the same falsehood was the feeling that I had to measure up, somehow, to who he wanted me to be.  But being a teacher or a preacher were purposefully removed from my list, simply because that would be being like my father.

   It's funny the things you realize, when you are older.  How you were so very wrong.  Time has a way of humbling you, if you listen.

  As I got older, I realized that what I was good at was teaching, but I fought it because that would be just like my father.  It wasn't that I didn't want to be like him, but rather I had to ensure that I did not become a teacher TO be like him.  And now here am I today, deciding it is time for me to preach.

  I have wasted so much time listening to this world, and God has had to really twist my arm and show me great suffering to get my attention.  Will I listen this time?

  You see, if I had, just for a little while, given up my own selfish desires and feelings of inadequacy, I would have flourished under my father.  I was so busy fighting and being independent that I lost the chance to be molded.  What I would have been, or whether my father should have dealt differently, is a useless conversation.  This is the road I have walked, and I am grateful that God has had the patience to mold me and break my will down little by little.  And he is not yet done breaking me down...there is still work to be done on my heart.  I am still to focused inward to be of much good.

  I have to let go.  I have to release my desires and wants and be free to follow God.  Sacrifice all that I want for myself and live for the good of the people in this world.  People are dying without knowing Christ, without the chance to hear his calming voice in their lives.  I don't know how God wants to me work, but I know I can start with my precious students.  I ache to speak love and compassion into their lives, yet I must be as aggressive as a badger and as patient as an ant.  My preaching will not be from the pulpit, but the sharing of my heart and soul to people who need hope and love.  And yes, I have to think about you, and not me so much.

  So I am going to purposefully, tentatively, walk in my father's, my Father's, shoes, that I might be more like him.  I realize that a rejection of being like my earthly father made it harder to be like my Heavenly Father.  I am not ready to jump out of an airplane...yet..., but when I do, if I do, I will be proud to do it because I will be following in my father's footsteps  And by so doing, in my Father's footsteps as well.

It is time

The time has come.  I have wasted enough time, though I can feel and see God's hand at work in this time that has passed.  Perhaps it is merely TIME now, as opposed to a mistake.  Does not God fashion us in his Time, honing us to perfection in the right moment?
  My family is not falling apart, and yet it feels misshapen.  My wife is in the doldrums and I am blazing ahead, but...  I have lost the respect of my family, if I ever had it.  When I consider my own mother and father, and my siblings, I see that I do not want the respect of fear from my family, whether it be fear of disappointment or fear of retribution.  I want the respect that God desires of me.  I do not want the same amount or level as God; I am not so full of hubris.  But I want the same flavour.  Respect borne out of love, devotion, and appreciation for the position I have in my family.  But God earned his position through his love for us, by his creation and sacrifice and ever-lasting care.  So how am I to earn my family's respect now?
  The only guide I have, the best one, really, is the Saviour himself.  First, he sacrificed everything: his exalted position, his life, his time. He surrendered his entire being to God first, and through that surrender to his people. Second, by surrendering himself to his Father, he set the example for us, his beloved children, in how one is to live life.  This I must do.  This I will do.

  It is small and petty, and almost unworthy of mention, but I have surrendered my online gaming accounts to everything.  I do not have the time to devote to be any good at them, really, and what worth are they when I am dead and gone?  Who that I truly admire as men and women of God spend their time in such a pursuit?  So if I am to be respected, must I follow in their example.  It is TIME.

  Time to truly devote myself to God.  Time to spend time where the time God created is worth being spent.  Time to write, time to correspond, time to spend with people, time to invest in people.  Time to invest in my children, and in my wife, and in my community.  Time to be who I was made to be, and settle for nothing else.  How much TIME I have wasted... No, not wasted.  Although the slough of clay off a potter's wheel is unused and tossed out, it had to be there to remove in the first place.  It is simply time.

  I will be writing more often, pouring time into useful pursuits.  I hope it will be of use to you.

Walking on water

It takes such courage and confidence to step out and walk on that less-traveled road. Some people seem to have the truth with them, so that when they step out and take a different road it is a blessing. Others seem to always take the wrong way. But in a world where everyone tells you to watch out and not rock the boat, when is it time to dive into the water and yell, "It's alright! I can swim!"

So often I feel like I'm the guy in the boat trying to swim on land because I don't want anyone to worry. So instead of going where I belong, I rock the boat in my fiendishly savage attempts to conquer land-swimming. Maybe I'm not supposed to swim at all! But you see, there it is. If you are in the boat with a bunch of people that teach everyone to jump into the boat, to safety, you have to wonder if you're just crazy or one of the few sane.

Just when I think I understand, doubt rushes in like a cold winter wind: "Maybe you're right, but if you're wrong, you'll drown." I dunno, God: will I sink or swim? Or are you trying to teach me to walk on water?