If you are a regular reader of this blog, you may recall that Pam and I do not have children. In fact, I’ve written in the past about my thoughts about Father’s Day for those who are not fathers. Today, though, I’m excited to write this post about something the Lord continues to teach me—something that lights up my heart each day.
For 27 years now, Pam and I have invested in students on two seminary campuses (and some students in college as well). Some have become quite special to us. In fact, some of their kids know us only as “Papaw Chuck” and “Mamaw Pam.” We’ve been blessed to have sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters around the world – all, as I jokingly tell folks, without our having to change diapers or pay for college!
At the same time, there are some times that completely thrill my soul—times I’m sure those who are biological and adoptive fathers surely already understand:
- When a “son” identifies me as a “dad” to him. The words themselves are powerful, but the emotions behind them are even more potent. I awaken in the night with joy when I have these kinds of memories.
- When a “son” comes to me with a need. I delight because he asks, and I delight even more when I can actually help meet the need. I’m grateful to God that He has blessed us with resources and networks to help my son.
- When a “son” likes just hanging out with me. I know I’m an older man. I realize I don’t always understand the thinking or the words of the next generation. So, I love it when a son wants to spend time with me. I can’t wait to “hang” (a word that, in my opinion, requires “out”–but apparently not to young folks), especially when he can’t wait to hang with me.
- When a “son” who isn’t walking with the Lord still respects me and invites me to have honest faith conversations with him. I agonize over my son, desperately wanting the Lord to draw him back to Him. I grieve, and I pray. And, I thank the Lord for allowing me to have honest, open, thoughtful conversations with my son even when we differ.
- When a son says, “I love you.” I admit that words are one of my love languages, but I’m still amazed by how much the words mean when they come from my son—especially a son I’ve “adopted” by choice. Just a few, simple, meaningful words from my son can help me put up with a lot of junk in the rest of life.
Here’s why all this matters to me. The older I get, and the longer I walk with the Lord, the more I think about the significance of a relationship with my Creator. I’m deeply grateful He’s my “dad.” I can only imagine based on my own experience how much He is pleased when I run to Him with my needs—needs He can always meet according to His will.
I’m sure He delights when I just want to hang out with Him, and that reality makes me want to do that even more. He welcomes my questions and loves me even when I wrestle with faith and struggle trusting Him. And, I want Him to hear me say often not only with my words but also with my actions, “I love you, Dad.”
I want Him to be pleased–to have reason to sing over me with joy today (Zeph 3:17). Amen.
