I think that one of the greatest joys of my life has been the gift of fatherhood that my Heavenly Father graced me with twice during the past three decades of my marriage to Win (another incredible gift of His grace). We began praying specifically for our firstborn, James David (named after one of my best friends of over forty years now), the moment we learned that Win had conceived our first child. Two and a half years later we did the same for our second son, Timothy John – who now prefers that we call him by his initials, TJ. (We intentionally gave him a name with “good initials,” thinking that perhaps that would indeed become the way we would refer to him. We actually considered naming him, “Timothy Paul” (two good, strong biblical names), but decided against it when we realized that we probably would not want to refer to him as “TP” – and thought that he might not appreciate it either. I loved (and still love) being a dad, especially during those early formative years of their lives. I have so many fond memories of their childhood days, most of them connected with the eight years we lived in the California desert (1992-2000), exploring as much of southern California as we could, gazing through the windows of an old, extended-cab Ford F250 pickup, with a 19-ft bunkhouse travel trailer in tow (my idea of really “roughing it”). When we went “camping” I always loved the aroma of coffee perking early in the morning and bacon frying in an old cast iron skillet I “inherited” from my grandparents, soon to be accompanied by fried eggs and potatoes and toast smothered with one of Win’s homemade jams. In some campgrounds we enjoyed everything from biking and hiking, to swimming and (of course) fishing, to tennis and basketball. Many of those days ended with a campfire and s’mores.
When each of the boys turned ten, I began taking them out for lunch once a month. It started with Jim. As I recall, our lunch appointment was scheduled for the second Tuesday of each month, from noon to 1:00 p.m. (I should mention that these luncheons were possible because Win homeschooled both of our sons all the way through high school). I remember looking at the calendar hanging in my son’s room one day, and could not help but notice that he had penciled in his lunch appointment with dad every second Tuesday of the year. Unless there was some type of ministry emergency, I would not permit that appointment to be violated. If that ever happened I would make sure we rescheduled our lunch meeting as soon as possible. From the beginning, I told each of my sons that we would go to whatever restaurant they chose, and we would talk about whatever subject they wanted to discuss. At first, I ate a lot of Big Macs, and we often talked about Power Rangers and GI Joes and Pokemon. As each of the boys grew older, their “tastes” (and appetites) also grew in size and cost. They began to prefer fine dining over fast food. Sometimes the discussions were much more serious as well. I continued this practice pretty much until each of the boys left home.
My sons are gone now. They have “flown the coop” (as the saying goes), and have left mom and dad with an “empty nest.” It is pretty quiet around here. I miss those boys. And I don’t think I have adapted that well to this stage of parenting. Years ago I read everything I could find on child-rearing and the teenage years. I thought I did okay – even might have received a passing grade for my fathering skills up through their teenage years. Then, all of sudden, it seemed, they became adults. It almost took me by surprise, and I’m not so sure I was as well-equipped as I could have been and should have been for this stage in their lives. Up until then I was not only their father, but I was also their pastor – their only pastor. But not any more . . .
Yet, I still want to impact them. I still want to impart whatever little wisdom I may still possess – before my mind goes totally blank. Most importantly, I think I can really relate to the Apostle John when he wrote “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth” (3 John 4). Oh, how I want them to walk in His Truth!
A couple of weeks ago I was writing a brief email to my older son, when the thought struck me: Why not write a series of “open letters” to my boys and post them on my blog – for all the world to see (if they want) – but maybe, just maybe, as an encouragement to other Christian moms and dads as well. I could call it “Letters to My Sons.” Some of them might even contain excerpts of cards, notes, emails and other correspondence I have previously sent to one or both of my boys over the years. Perhaps it would be a blessing to them – as well as to several other young men I have been privileged to “mentor” during the past thirty-eight years of full-time ministry the Lord has graciously given to me.
I don’t know how many letters I will write . . . I’m not even sure there will even be one. But what I am sure about is that I love my sons with all my heart. I know that they both know Jesus Christ. They have believed in Him for everlasting life and their eternal destiny is secure. And I am so proud of both of them. But I don’t think there is anything that could make me more proud than one day, when we all stand before Jesus Christ at the Bema seat, to hear my Savior and Lord say to each boy, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of the Lord.”
Guys, if you happen to read this blog, you need to know that I am your “biggest” and “loudest” fan . . .
Love, DAD
