The great transitions of life, as we get older, stagger us at times. This week we have experienced the death of a friend and the retirement of a faithful worker. It has given pause to reflect on their lives and remember how valuable life, work, and relationships are.
Our friend who died earlier this week is also part of our family, being the dad to our sweet daughter-in-law. His parting was too sudden, the result of cancer that took an aggressive turn just in a matter of weeks. We share grandchildren with him. He is dear to them, and, thusly, dear to us.
We are thankful for the time we have had with him but wanted more. He longed for more time with these little grands, but what he had would have to suffice. He had a generous heart and they knew him that way. They prayed for him every day which moved us to pray better for him.
His passing is still shocking for us, happening so quickly, but we take comfort in this Bible verse: “Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6)
The other transition in life that was halting to us was the retirement of a long-time friend. Over 30 years in international work. He and his amazing wife have been so faithful and focused in the work that God gave them. No “looking back over the plow” (Luke 9:62) for these two. Retirement will definitely advance differently in this friend’s life. His boss even said, on his retirement, “The Energizer bunny only has an on/off switch”. No real slow down for this one until God says (way, way down the road hopefully) “Well done, good and faithful servant”.
[On one of his many adventures some call work]
[Our “retiring friend” and his awesome wife who is his counterpart – strong, kind, and loving – a true partner in the work]
Ullie Kaye Poetry has been a constant read for me this week in grieving and celebrating. She clearly knows the experience of grieving, and of celebrating people we love, and of honoring the God who “carries mountains”.
[This friend and our daughter who has known his influence]
These two men – different and yet similar – loved and appreciated. We will miss the one until Heaven. We will miss the other as they move away to another work. We hold both in our hearts and will never forget what we have learned and gained from each. God is good…all the time.
Processing thoughts on the difficult subject of offending and being offended, a song drifts into my hearing from Dave’s office. He is riding his bike (on a trainer) to a playlist that matches his ride (slow/fast/slow). This particular song pounding into my head is rock band The Eagles‘ Get Over It. [Dave will also pull that song up on the occasion he recognizes he’s having a pity party.]
I’ve had some great friends in my life who have spoken reason to me in times when something said or done to me (or to someone I cared about) offended. “Get over it!” was actually a helpful “slap” into reality for me. Reminds me of that old commercial, “Thanks! I needed that.”
The motivation for this piece is walking alongside people I love who have been deeply offended and don’t see a way to get past it. Offenses are hard, especially if they seem intentional.
We still have a choice. We can choose not to be offended…whether it felt the seeming offense was directed toward us or we are tempted to take up offensefor another.
Author Desirée M. Mondesir writes a “slap to the face” piece on our culture’s move to looking for and taking up offense. It’s especially fascinating to me because she refers to a student revolt at Yale University. Having taught there years ago, I can see this gradual evolution from reason to riot. It’s a stunning change in society and we are none immune to it.
Mondesir refers to this cultural shift as being a sign of end times.
“And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another. Then many false prophets will rise up and deceive many. And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold. But he who endures to the end shall be saved.” – Jesus – Matthew 24:10-13
Sure sounds like today’s culture, in the US anyway.
Writer and counselor John Bevere has written a fascinating book on offense entitled The Bait of Satan: Living Free From the Deadly Trap of Offense. The title put me off at first but in reading it, the whole issue of offense is highlighted as something that turns us inward and keeps us from healthy relationships with one another and with God. When you think about it, Eve, in the first pages of the Torah/Old Testament [Genesis 3:2-7], was the first of humankind to act in offense. In her conversation with the Serpent tempter, she reacted to the Serpent’s suggestion, questioning the instruction (and the goodness) of God. To me, it demonstrates her taking offense that she would be drawn into Satan’s ruse. Even acting in rebellion, presuming God didn’t mean good toward her. She decided for herself to eat from the tree (the one tree God had forbidden), and the consequences of her choosing continue to today.
What could Eve have done differently? She could have trusted God’s heart toward her. If she fell into doubt (through Satan’s cunning argument), she could have sought out the Creator first before she acted on a lie.
When Eve acted in this way, and took the bait, we can see how we, too, can be drawn in – becoming disoriented by someone’s words or deeds, and forgetting what is really the truth of the matter. Our emotions fly away with us, and we bind ourselves in the chains of offense.
“Someone else cannot “offend” you – however, you can choosewhether or not to take offense at something someone says or does.
Someone else cannot make you mad, happy, sad, or offended – you, and you alone can control how you react to the world around you.
Learn and apply that one relatively simple lesson, and you’ll be much happier in life.”
We may not be able to choose our immediate emotion over a word or action perceived as against us, but we can develop a habit or discipline to determine NOT to take offense.
Currently, the news media is having a hey-day with sound-bytes and interviews hand-picked to incite offense.
As for personal situations, people who offend do not always mean to offend. [I don’t say this lightly. Of course, there are those who do. I also am not talking about abuse here. That is a whole other topic, but the principles still apply.] No one knows truly what’s inside us that gives us struggle, not even ourselves. Like the Mcgill quote states, it’s only in our response that we discover that which is still unresolved. Reacting in self-defense or in counter-attack mode brings more hurt. “Hurt people hurt people.” With practice, I can determine not to carry hurt away from a conversation or interaction.
In situations between two people, we can choose not to be offended, but how do we deal with the offense?
The offender communicates disrespect. A social violation occurs. Two people are involved and the resolution of that interaction requires input from both of them. When the one offended determines to engage in good faith, trying to seek understanding and rebuild trust, s/he may actually discover the intent of the offending person. A misunderstanding or an action following a perceived threat on the part of the offender may be the issue rather than an intent to hurt.
On the side of the one offended, this is not a social situation. It is deeply personal. Only the one offended knows the extent of the offending words/actions. For this reason, the offended person can refuse to think ill of the offender…and not take offense. Then take steps toward reconciliation or, if that’s not possible, make a personal decision not to be hurt by that person. This is not easy…especially at first in training one’s responses.
“The answer is a little paradoxical: We should strive not to offend or disrespect others. At the same time, we should also strive to not feel offended, or disrespected, for long. In other words, we should strive to be kind socially, and to feel free psychologically.”
Forgiveness opens the door wide to reconciliation. Forgiveness can defuse the hurt. Boundaries may come into play, but if the boundaries are built out of fear, dread, anger, or hatred, we are still not free from offense.
My biological father abandoned us long before my mom left him (before my sixth birthday). I saw him only twice after that. For years, I wrote him letters with no response, and then I stopped. My love for him grew cold. If he had any sense of needing forgiveness or asking for forgiveness, I don’t know. He died before I told him I forgave him. Every time this comes to mind, forgiving him is revisited. That’s a regret for me. However, I know the beautiful experience of forgiving a long-played offense from my older brother. Robert, who had deep pain of his own, struck out at others. My response for years was being offended at him or taking up an offense for other family members. It wasn’t pretty. Then, thanks to the wisdom and honesty of friends, I came to my senses on his offenses and my reactions. No more taking up an offense when Robert attacked…and the attacks died. He and I became closer than we had ever been over our lives. In fact, he gentled in his relationship with our siblings also. Those brief years (which could have been more if I had understood sooner) were great blessings (hopefully to both of us). When he died suddenly in his 60s, I carried no regrets. #Unoffendable #Forgiveness – I forgave him and he forgave me…without the words but walking out forgiveness with each other. So much grace in that.
Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. – Genesis 1:26-27
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” – Jesus – Matthew 11:28-30
“Everyone the Father gives me will come to me, and the one who comes to me I will never cast out.” – Jesus – John 6:37
So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” – John 8:31-32
We are created in the image of God. Astounding fact! That means we are hard-wired for goodness and beauty, love and creativity, mercy and justice. Our problem then? Sin. From the beginning, sin has seeded our nature with self-serving and the warped sense that we belong to ourselves not to the God who knows and loves us perfectly. Apart from surrendering ourselves to His lordship, we attempt to live fragmented with bits of His DNA at work in us but far from what He had in mind for us…far from the freedom we can have in Christ’s forgiveness.
This brings us to the beautiful story Jesus told of the prodigal son. In this parable, Jesus brings into focus the lives and relationships of three men – a father and his two sons. The younger son rejected the life his father had for him and chose to sever himself from him. He asked for his inheritance and his father let him go to what would become a life of debauchery…living loosely on the means he did not earn, except by his lineage from his father. The older son stayed with his father, serving him (and tending his own future) as before. The father was heart-broken, and, although it isn’t written, maybe the older son went looking for the younger son to bring him back home. Or maybe he did not. We don’t know. Once the money ran out, the younger son found himself alone and hungry, without relationship or worth. Shame and regret were his only companions. He decided to return to his father asking for his mercy. Was he truly contrite and repentant – we can’t know his heart. He for sure wanted relief from the constant distress he endured, consequence of his poor choices. As he came, his father recognized him, from far off, as if he never stopped looking for his return. The father came running to receive him, welcoming him back home. The older brother? Not so much. In his own self-righteousness, the older brother did not rejoice, even when it pained his father’s heart that he had such a response. Being a good father has its own anguish, and we should always remember that in our love for God and in our treatment of those He loves.
Singer, songwriter Brandon Lake just released his latest single “Daddy’s DNA”. It’s a beautiful, honest confession of a prodigal (most likely some of which is Lake’s own story).
I thought the world had something special I was missing My daddy told me not to chase it, I didn’t listen I fell downhill a mile a minute Before I knew it, I was livin’ In a pig sty a long, long way from home
I went runnin’ like a rebel Racked up debts I couldn’t pay I went dancing with the devil With one foot in the grave How the Heaven did I get here? Went and threw it all away All I’ve given You was trouble All You’ve given me was grace
And the freedom I was chasing felt like prison Lord, I’ve done so many things, wish I didn’t And after all the risky business Could I ever be forgiven? I’m afraid to even ask to come back home
‘Cause I went runnin’ like a rebel Racked up debts I couldn’t pay I went dancing with the devil With one foot in the grave How the Heaven did I get here? Went and threw it all away All I’ve given You was trouble All You’ve given me is grace Given me was grace
When I sobered up, and came back to my senses I was too far gone to make up all the distance I gambled all that I’d been given I was broke, alone and wishing That I could turn around and go back home When I heard the sound of footsteps down the road
And You came runnin’ like a rebel Paid off debts I couldn’t pay You went dancing with the devil Sent that liar to his grave How the Heaven did I get here? Where every sin has been erased All I’ve given You was trouble All You’ve given me is grace
There was something in the marrow Always coursing through my veins Buried deeper than the rubble Is My Daddy’s DNA*
I love this song. The bridge (or benediction?) at the end really gave me pause. We do have the Lord’s DNA in us…what we do with that has eternal consequence. Either we think it is really our DNA and we can live our lives for ourselves, our own ambition and pleasure, and our own perceived destinies…or we recognize Whose we are and what we need to do to alter course and take on the life we were meant to have. That is where joy and freedom really lie. To recognize the prodigal nature in all of us and to return Home to a Father who came for us, in Jesus, and continues to come for us through the Holy Spirit at work in our lives.
My prayer is that His DNA is on beautiful display in all who call Him Father.
Yesterday, a young woman very dear to me gave a tribute to her grandfather at his memorial service. What she said was beautiful and honoring as she said goodbye (for now) to a man who loved her deeply, as she also loved him. She shared her short talk with me, and it reminded me of the precious gift of good fathering. [I’ve written several times on fathering. It’s a hard job, maybe even harder than mothering.]
Reading her talk, she spoke of a grandfather who treasured her. As a grandparent, I understand how easy it is to just love our grandchildren. The raising, training up, civilizing of children is long and arduous, but the joy of grandchildren, both little and grown, usually requires little from us. Still to have a good father as a grandparent is a great blessing. I know this young one will miss him terribly.
Being a good father is a daunting task, especially for men whose own fathers were absent or punishing (maybe from their own sense of inadequacy or pain). As women, we are allowed to cry and vent our struggles to other women. With men, the message is too often to ignore the emotions that are hard to control or to strike out in anguish when facing disappointment or failure. I can’t imagine really.
Today, I heard of Jason O. Wilson for the first time. He is a martial arts instructor but much more. For decades, he has mentored young boys (and their fathers). Scrolling through X (formerly Twitter), I came across this quote on some of his teaching:
It’s impossible to overstate how important it is for a child to hear these words from their dad:
I’m here for you.
I love you.
I’m proud of you.
Speak them as often as you can. [v/c to the incredible @mrjasonowilson. I dare you watch his videos without tearing up.]
Having grown up himself with no father in the home, he founded Cave of Adullam. That’s the name of Jason Wilson’s transformational training academy.
Cave of Adullam is identified in the Bible as a place of refuge for David. In that period of Israel’s history, King Saul was trying to kill David, but David refused to kill the King even when he had several opportunities.
Wilson’s teaching and mentoring is like nothing I’ve seen before. He teaches discipline, but his main focus is for the boys to know they are loved. Their fathers are as much a part of their training as they are.
If you’re a dad or grandfather and you’re reading this, you obviously are invested in fathering. It is never too late to connect with your children and grandchildren. It may be uncomfortable and even unwelcome. We live in an era of family estrangement. However, you will never regret trying or starting over, if given the opportunity. As we reach out to our children, sometimes we find our own healing in the process.
Dig into Jason Wilson’s practices. His website, books, X tweets, YouTube videos, and guest spots on podcasts are extremely helpful. He’s even been a guest on the Joe Rogan Experience where they talk together for 2 hours! Wilson’s own lack of good fathering has not stopped him from fathering and mentoring well. In fact, he was propelled into that better life because of his loss. He was not defeated by the lack of a good father. His faith in a good Heavenly Father has set a solid foundation for him, and now he comforts and empowers others.
Coming back around to the impetus for this post – the grieving granddaughter of a good grandfather – she will be comforted by the love she knew in their relationship. Her children will benefit from that as well. We take note of good fathers and have hope for ourselves to be that kind of parent.
And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them. – Colossians 3:15-20
On August 4, we will be 40 years married! Whew! Thanks be to God!
The flight of years shows in our bodies and minds, but for us, it is most apparent in the launch of adult children into their own lives, work, and marriages. Then…it comes back to just the two of us…and I am grateful for his company.
Our marriage has always been of a quiet steady sort . My husband and I married best friends. We were polar opposites in most ways, except our faith and being raised in Southern families, with Godly, praying mamas. He was “read and follow directions” marrying “fly by the seat of her pants.” It was definitely a match made in Heaven because we would need the God of Heaven to keep us on course as we figured marriage out…both without and, later, with children.
In fact, those of you who know us well know the struggles we have had figuring out parenting (both young children and then adult children). Also the challenges of having very different ideas and giftings on doing life. I’ve written so much about this in my journals over the years, wrestling with God and my own heart in these areas. Should our kids read those journals one day, I trust them to handle the pages of angst about our marriage with gentleness and understanding. Hopefully they have always seen us pull together more than pull apart.
I’ve often quoted Elisabeth Elliot on love and marriage. Two thoughts come to mind. She speaks of love as being “a laid-down life.” She also talks of marriage as being good for Christians to mature in their walk with God, because [in marriage] “there’s so much scope for sinning.” My husband has taught me a lot in both of these areas, and I, him – hopefully more on the lines of laying down our lives for each other, rather than the scope for sinning part…sigh.
Whatever these nearing forty years have produced with us together, the best of it has been 3 great young people (and the 2 beautiful extra children who’ve joined our family through them, so far)…and GRANDCHILDREN! Alongside those treasures is the unalterable way the Lord has knit us together, my husband and me, with each other and with Him.
I have some idea what is ahead, given our ages and the world around us (we’ve already been through a cancer diagnosis, big job changes, losses of dear parents, and sickness in our children and grandchildren). The hard is softened by what is promised (and proven) through God’s Word. Whatever is ahead, I am so grateful for what I’ve learned through this man who married me 40 years ago.
He has given me the face of a man who does not give up, of one who never leaves the room, of one who fights for what is right, of one who is tender toward the weak, of one who loves no matter what. I have been both the recipient of this and the one by his side as he extends himself to others.
Now, we are two again…as in the beginning of our relationship. Yet we are at a very different place. God has shown Himself to be ever-present in all these years of our lives. For many years I didn’t think marriage was to be mine…then Dave came into my life quite providentially. God gave me exactly what I needed in this husband of mine – a man as true as steel in his walk with God and with his family. We count on him; he counts on God. Whatever happens out there in front of us…I have peace, on this 40th anniversary, that God will be there for each of us, to show us how to live…as He has in all these years thus far.
We all have fathers – whether very present, present but distant, or long-time absent. Some of you may be fathers. Some of you may have wanted to be fathers but are not able to be…for whatever reasons.
This day of commemoration usually means a good meal and some sort of gifting or pampering for you dads. For all of you, with or without children, you can be influencers…and we need you. My biological father was absent long before my parents divorced.
Thankfully I have had a rich heritage of good fathers through the rest of my life – my step-dad, brothers, uncles, husband, father-in-law, son/son-in-law, brother-in-law, nephews, and loving, empowering male friends and colleagues. Most of these good fathers in my life were spiritual fathers…but fathers nonetheless.
The father of my own children used to travel with his work. He and I had a parting ritual. He runs through the “in case something happens” list [let me know if you want particulars of that – it is helpful to know]. Then, we did sort of a “Thanks for marrying me” farewell…and finally that wonderful, “If I don’t see you here, I’ll see you THERE.” When this man wasn’t present with us, he still was.
Fathering, like mothering, is not an easy job. So much dying to self. So much responsibility. What a delight for us when the men in our lives take fathering on their shoulders as they might a sleeping child. Surrendering themselves to the serving of those younger than them. I thank God for men who humble themselves in prayer for their children and who go to work every day to support their families. Working, studying, and life-long learning passed on to their children and others.
Photo Credit: Calvin & Hobbs from the blog of Kenneth Reeds
These dads are too-often taken for granted in the shadow of fathering that falls short. The absent, neglectful and downright abusive fathers cut wounds so deep that decent fathers are sometimes judged by the same measure. We watch for “the sins of the fathers to be revisited on their children” (Numbers 14:18).
Today, let’s reflect on the good fathers. Those who were present at our births, or those who came later in life to us, or those who father us out of their own great hearts. Imperfect, sure. All of us are. Yet, there are those men who go many more than second miles for us, and we are grateful. – Deb Mills
…and finally let’s live in hope that those fathers who struggle to be present or loving may one day gather themselves together, awaken to what was left behind, and reach out to the treasures they missed along the way…and may they find us within reach.
“As to my children, you are now to be left fatherless, which I hope will be an inducement to you all to seek a Father who will never fail you.” – Jonathan Edwards, his last words to his children, as he lay dying
And Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons; and the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property that falls to me.’ And he divided his living between them. Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took his journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in loose living. And when he had spent everything, a great famine arose in that country, and he began to be in want. So he went and joined himself to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would gladly have fed on the pods that the swine ate; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have bread enough and to spare, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you;I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ And he arose and came to his father. But while he was yet at a distance, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet; and bring the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and make merry; for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to make merry.
“Now his elder son was in the field; and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what this meant. And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has received him safe and sound.’ But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, ‘Lo, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command; yet you never gave me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your living with harlots, you killed for him the fatted calf!’ And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to make merry and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.’” – Luke 15:11-32
The following is a treasure by writer and researcher Trevin Wax, used with permission. We met only once, but I’ve been learning from him for several years. You are in for a treat – a life-giving infusion of truth, wisdom, and grace.
“Every now and then, a song brings me to tears.
Sometimes it’s an older song that stirs the heart in a new way. I’ve never been able to sing the last verse of Isaac Watts’s hymn, “There Is a Fountain,” because I’m too moved by that image of my “poor lisping, stammering tongue” lying “silent in the grave” before rising again to sing a “nobler, sweeter song” of Christ and his “power to save.”
Songs about the cross and resurrection strike that chord, such as the vision at the end of “O Praise the Name (Anástasis)” of resurrection hope when our gaze will be fixated on the Savior. Andrew Peterson’s “Well Done, Good and Faithful” builds on a Watts hymn and imagines the Father affirming the Son’s sacrificial work; I blubber every Easter season when I hear it. Other songs do the trick too, even simple ones like Steven Curtis Chapman’s “My Redeemer is Faithful and True” or Fernando Ortega’s “Give Me Jesus.”
But for all the times when glorious gospel truth has me fumbling for a Kleenex, there many times when I sing about amazing grace with dry eyes and a lukewarm heart. This has me wondering, What dries up the heart and keeps us from feeling and experiencing the marvelous, matchless grace of God? What keeps the tear ducts blocked?
For starters, there’s the posture of the older brother in the parable of the prodigal son: the self-righteous, self-sufficient one who remains “close” to the father, at least in terms of proximity, while his heart is far from home. The consummate rule-follower believes deep down that the only possible reason God would love us is because we’ve done something to deserve salvation.
This assumption can manifest itself in many ways, even among those who talk about grace all the time. The self-justifying tendencies of the human heart can lead us to stand on a pedestal of Christian teaching about grace and then look down on others who’ve not arrived at our level of doctrinal understanding or theological precision.
But we cannot weep before the majestic grace of God if we’re still searching for scraps of self-sufficiency. Tears of gratitude will never fall from eyes looking down on others, only from eyes looking up to God’s grace.
But there’s a second posture that keeps us from marveling at the grace of God: the desire to validate ourselves by doing away with sin.
The New Testament’s insistence on our need for redemption humbles us. But redefining sin removes the need for humility, leaving us affirmed in our natural state.
For many today, the problem isn’t the disease of sin, but those who’d diagnose the disease. So, instead of a father running to us with a heart overflowing with forgiveness and healing mercy, we want a father who runs to affirm us and tell us all is well, that what we’ve done either wasn’t that bad or wasn’t bad at all. We want a God to provide a spiritual presence, a transcendent dimension for the life we’ve chosen to live. God becomes the approver of our own self-validation.
This second posture is also rooted in self-righteousness, but it masks itself in false mercy. For some, sin is not that big a deal because God is merciful and it’s his job to forgive. For others, our focus on brokenness and suffering outstrips any notion of sin as transgression or treason against God. God’s mercy and help are there to make us whole, but this “wholeness” must ultimately be defined by every individual.
The first and greatest commandment is “Be true to yourself.” The second is like it: “Affirm whatever self your neighbor decides to be true to.” In this way, we rid ourselves of vice, not through forgiveness, but through redefining vices as virtues, as part of our authentic selves.
And so, the father runs to the repentant son, not to shower him with undeserved grace, but to follow him to the pigsty, where he insists the son’s rebellion was a bold and courageous act of independence, and the diet of pig food is really a feast for the self-actualized.
This posture strips us of the power to weep at grace. Sin is waved, not washed, away. To deny or minimize your sinfulness is to sever the root of gratitude for undeserved favor. Make favor deserved, a reward that showcases your innate worth and value and goodness, and you’ve gutted grace of everything that makes it amazing.
In both cases, whether it’s the elder brother who won’t lower himself to join the feast, or the younger brother who won’t come to his senses because he wants to be “free” to choose the pigsty, self-righteousness blocks tears of gratitude.
Only Jesus gives us grace that meets us in our darkest hour, grace that plumbs the depths of our cavernous hearts, grace that transforms the heart of stone into a heart of flesh.
Undeserved favor strips us of self-righteousness and shows up our paltry attempts at self-validation. Submit to that humble stripping away of all our pride, and then we can bask in the grace that makes us sing louder, shout for joy, and weep with gratitude. That’s the grace we see in the running feet of the father.” – Trevin Wax, Facebook, May 5, 2024
[If you have time, and want to sing praise to God for His great grace, click on any of the song links – old or new.]
Early riser here. In fact, I rarely need an alarm.
In other seasons of life, the morning came with joy. For some time now, I have struggled with negative thoughts…not so much anxiety or depression as much as a certain sense of feeling undone.
Since reading Tyler Staton’s Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools, my morning routine has changed some. No more mindless scrolling through various social media on my phone. It is no longer within reach. Once up, I make my bed. That lifelong routine continues. However, while still in bed, just barely awake, I now do two things to clear my head and set my heart for the day.
1)I recite the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13). This is actually the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples when they asked him to teach them how to pray. Whether you have a relationship with Jesus or not, if you believe in God, this prayer is one you can embrace. A friend, younger than me, said to a small group of women recently in a study on prayer, “We should memorize the Lord’s Prayer”. It struck me as odd because, in my generation, we learned the Lord’s Prayer in school. Led by our teacher, we recited it as a whole class every day along with the Pledge of Allegiance. Whatever our religion or lack thereof. Until 1962, when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled school prayer (led by teachers) unconstitutional.
This prayer helps me to turn my thoughts to God and the creeping uneasiness changes more to hopefulness.
2) I recite Psalm 23. This psalm, often referred to by its first line “The Lord is my Shepherd”, was written by David, a shepherd himself before he became king. In meditating on this psalm, I’m reminded of God’s care of his sheep. No matter what happens, he keeps his eye on us. He provides for us, anticipating our every need, and welcomes us Home to be with Him at the end of our lives.
These two passages are easy to memorize and even easier to make part of a morning routine They have done wonders for my waking to a new day.
So what does this have to do with generational trauma? I’ve written often about this previously (and strongly recommend reading these pieces if you haven’t already).
We have all experienced some sort of trauma through our families, across generations. Some (including in my own family) would rather not “go there”, and I understand. However, it is in recognizing our trauma and taking steps toward healing that helps us to avoid continuing the trauma in our children and grandchildren.
“As adults, we want the same things our children need – to be safe (no “bracing for impact” in relationships), to be seen (truly known by those most significant in our lives), to be soothed (our emotions understood and acknowledged, without judgment, even when they are big and out of proportion), and secure (that no matter what, we are loved. Our persons are NOT leaving the room).
Whatever we may have experienced as children, we can alter our present. Whatever we did as young and overwhelmed parents, we can move, with love and insight, to a better situation with our kids. The past is just that…the past. We can be truly with each other, in the here and now…if we are brave and willing to be humble.” – Deb Mills
The major component of trauma in my own life was abandonment. I don’t know about my grandparents’ childhood, but from my grandparents’ adulthood through the present, my family has felt the sting of abandonment. It is generational and can not only affect us but our children as well. Abandonment is a very real source of trauma and can actually find its way back up the family tree, if we don’t do the work of rooting it out. [The longer stories are in my blogs above.]
What better way to start each day praying to and meditating on a Father who will NEVER abandon his children!
[Below you will find further resources on generational trauma and a helpful graphic on the power of showing up.]
Fathering…it’s an intriguing topic for me, and I’ve written a lot on it [see here].
My biological father was fairly absent from my life. Even before he and my mom divorced. Our father’s own abandonment of us had an impact on us kids developmentally (even possibly affecting how we parent today).
[My brothers and me when we were younger]
Fortunately I had a kind and loving step-father. Sadly missed by his first family as he poured himself into my siblings and me. He tried to love them well, too…but…
My mom’s dad was an alcoholic who dealt poorly with the Great Depression and his inability to provide well for his family… isolating himself from his children. I remember as a child following him around the woods when we visited. Wish I could have known him better.
The father of my own children was and is a present, loving dad to our bunch. I hope they feel how much he loves them…still and always.
[These four, Morocco]
You have your own fathering stories.
Fathering matters.
“Fathering, like mothering, is not an easy job. So much dying to self. So much responsibility. What a delight for us when the men in our lives take fathering on their shoulders as they might a sleeping child. Surrendering themselves to the serving of those younger than them. I thank God for men who humble themselves in prayer for their children and who go to work every day to support their families. Working, studying, and life-long learning passed on to their children and others.
These dads are too-often taken for granted in the shadow of fathering that falls short. The absent, neglectful and downright abusive fathers cut wounds so deep that decent fathers are sometimes judged by the same measure. We watch for “the sins of the fathers to be revisited on their children” (Numbers 14:18).
Today, let’s reflect on the good fathers. Those who were present at our births, or those who came later in life to us, or those who father us out of their own great hearts. Imperfect, sure. All of us are. Yet, there are those men who go many more than second miles for us, and we are grateful.” – Deb Mills
In thinking about fathers, with the approach of Father’s Day here in the US, I pulled all the books on fathering from my bookshelves. There weren’t many (more on parenting, but just these few on fathering itself). Maybe we miss the crucial nature of this role in children’s lives, such that we don’t feel training is needed. I don’t know.
Adaptability means you handle stress and what is coming at you as a dad in healthy and effective ways. It also means you have the mental flexibility to help your child feel understood and noticed by you.
Respect brings you fully present to your family. Through respect, you model looking inward and managing yourself well so you can listen, see, effectively respond to, and love all image bearers of Christ that surround you each day.
Intentionality helps you create goals and focus on what you’re building in your children’s lives. Intentional affection, instruction, conversations, mealtimes, playtimes, and encouraging words can all have life-giving impacts on your family.
Steadfast love allows you to love deeply and give your family the strength that stems from a father’s unconditional love.
Boundaries allow you to model and teach healthy ways to engage with opportunities, relationships, and interests.
Grace and forgiveness present the ministry of reconciliation that Jesus began through his death and resurrection. A dad can truly make his home debt-free and spiritually strengthened by modeling grace and forgiveness.
Gratitude provides a father with a loving and humble perspective that helps him lead his family well.
Photo Credit: Calvin & Hobbs from the blog of Kenneth Reeds
Parenting is challenging for sure. Through all the seasons and stages of life. From the birth of our children through when they are grown…really until we are gone. Challenging, but also a beautiful work of the heart and mind, as we seek to win the challenge. For our children’s sake, and for our own. If we weren’t fathered well, we can determine to take the steps for it not to continue in our own parenting. The resources we have available to parent well today are plentiful.
We can be grateful for good fathers and hopeful for those overwhelmed by (or unfortunately unaware of) the challenge of parenting well.
“…Let’s live in hope that those fathers who struggle to be present or loving may one day gather themselves together, awaken to what was left behind, and reach out to the treasures they missed along the way…and may they find us within reach.” – Deb Mills
“As to my children, you are now to be left fatherless, which I hope will be an inducement to you all to seek a Father who will never fail you.” – Rev. Jonathan Edwards, his last words to his children, as he lay dying.
The Audacity of Calling God “Father” If I call God “God” I speak truthfully. If I call God “Lord” I speak submissively. If I call God “King” I speak servilely.
But if I dare to call God “my Father,” I speak with a brassy audacity, chutzpah, that is shockingly familiar and intimate. So it seems anyway.
You dare to call the Master of the Universe “Father”? You dare to call the One who controls heaven and hell “Father”? You call the Omnipotent one “Father”?
Who do you think you are? It is difficult to imagine a more audacious act than to stand before the Creator of the world and to name him “Father.” And mean it. And not only to mean it, but to act and speak as a child acts and speaks before a loving and doting Dad.
It’s shocking. It’s exhilarating. And it’s beautiful beyond words.
But here’s a secret: it’s not really chutzpah. It’s not some brassy boldness that we work ourselves into, nor it is gained by swallowing a bottle of liquid spiritual courage, as it were.
To call God “Father” is simply to live in the space which Jesus created. To move from residing far from God as his enemy; or on the other side of town from him as a stranger; or down the street as an acquaintance; or in an adjoining house as a servant; and to move into our own bedroom as a child in his family. To wake up in the morning and see our Father sipping a cup of coffee and saying, “Good morning, my child,” as we respond, “Good morning, Father.”
You see, when we live in this house, when we move into the room built by Jesus, we inhabit the home not merely of a Master or Lord or King, but the one who’s given us his name and made us his own, now and forever.
“Our Father”: two of the most amazing words ever uttered. – Chad Bird
The Audacity of Calling God “Father”
If I call God “God” I speak truthfully. If I call God “Lord” I speak submissively. If I call God “King” I speak servilely.
But if I dare to call God “my Father,” I speak with a brassy audacity, chutzpah, that is shockingly familiar and…
When a father dies he leaves a legacy. Yesterday, the three sons of our friend Mike Pineda, stood on the platform, at his funeral, and spoke beautifully about their hero of a dad.
[Their tributes for their dad can be found here. Worth your time.]
Mike Pineda had faithfully walked alongside his sons all their lives. Teaching, mentoring, and modeling. One of the lessons their dad had taught them (by word and action) was to reject passivity.
That stuck with me. What is it to resist, in fact, reject passivity? Where does the temptation to be passive come from?
We can go all the way back to the first man who lived – Adam. When the Evil One tempted him and Eve to question the goodness of God, and even though Eve seemed to take lead in sinning against God (Genesis 3:6), Adam was physically present, right there with her. [This isn’t to cast greater judgment on Adam, or Eve, for that matter. It is a declarative statement of what can result from passivity.]
Men have been living in Adam’s shadow ever since. Rather than being strong dads, men often just stand there. Rather than being loving husbands, men often just stand there. Why is it that so many men are so decisive, focused, and effective in areas of life that don’t really matter, but tentative, uninspiring, and passive in some of the areas that matter most? It’s as if passivity is in our DNA. And that if we don’t actively fight it, we’ll default to being passive.
Where does passivity reign in your life? Is it at home? Or with your finances? Or in your career? Or with your wife or girlfriend? Where are you doing nothing when you should be doing something? Where are you being silent when you should be speaking up? Authentic men reject passivity. They refuse to live in the shadow of Adam and instead choose to fight for what truly matters most. They find their strength in the grace of Jesus and follow His example of rejecting passivity—ultimately by coming to earth to rescue us. – Authentic Manhood
Now, please don’t get me wrong here. I’m not trying to bash men for being passive. No way! Maybe like Eve, we as women, hold some measure of complicity in this whole issue of passivity. Do we make it difficult for the men in our lives to act decisively? Do we act in ways that prove to be passive-aggressive and pose for men a lose-lose outcome…that either way, they will pay for “manning up”?
Even as I write, it’s a little uncomfortable having grown up in the era of women’s liberation, ERA, and feminism. Hard battles have been fought for and by women to fare well in the workplace. In the home as well. Yet, is it possible that one of the fruits of this movement has been men just stepping aside and letting us have our way? Even when that’s not the case, what could it have been with both men and women working better together?
Of course, we know this whole issue of passivity didn’t start a few decades ago (go back to Adam and Eve). So what do we do about it?
I’m going to talk to my sons right now…all the way to the end of this piece [You’re welcome to read along].
“It’s so easy…too easy…to let others make the decisions. When others make the decision, you may think you don’t have to accept the consequences of those decisions. You can, in many cases, let those others live with the outcomes. You can elect to go along with the decisions, or (if not required) you can step back, and let the chips fall where they may. Now if it’s work, and you’re held to a standard requiring you to go along with the decision once made, you have little recourse. You didn’t speak into it, therefore you must to some extent abide by the decision. How much better if you had entered into the decision-making yourself?
What about the larger community? Your circles of potential influence outside your work. Are you willing to sit silently…to offer nothing of your giftings, your intellect, your experience to those conversations?
What about your family? Your wife, your children? Are you willing to let others speak into their lives and you take a quieter, more disengaged space? You will find the years will go by…and the voice in their ears and hearts…is not yours. Is that really what you want?
Passivity is like a weak link in a chain…compromising the strength of that chain. In relationships, passivity is something we can correct, if we’re willing to take the perceived risk to do so.
What we expect shapes how we respond. If we expect peace, we will resent having to fight. If we expect rest, we will resent having to endure. If we expect leisure, we will resent having to work hard.
This is why it’s so important for us to prepare our minds for action.
We lose perspective and forget that in this age war, not peace, is the norm; vigilant self-control, not indulgent rest, is the norm; difficult cultivation, not easy picking, is the norm.
Our emotions typically tell us what our mind-sets are; our responses reveal our expectations. So, when weariness, disappointment, disillusionment, and resentment set in, we need to examine what’s fueling those feelings.
Our emotions springing from misplaced expectations of peace, rest, and leisure ask to be coddled. – Jon Bloom
Passivity is sometimes born out of exhaustion from battling for too long a season. Or a lack of hope when looking at the opposition. As Bloom states in his article: as we choose to stay in the battle, with a mindset to act, we resist passivity and the false sense of safety it projects.
In thinking back to our friend Mike’s funeral, his sons talked about both his rejection of passivity and his pursuit of a quiet life. He aspired “to live quietly, and to mind [his] own affairs, and to work with [his] hands (1 Thess. 4:11). This is not passive living. It takes focus, prioritizing, and hard work…out of which is the great harvest of those in your sphere of influence learning the tools of fruitful and faithful lives. By your example.
So my loves, I’ll let you get back to your lives. I see you resisting passivity. Keep nurturing that habit of life.
Stand with or stand against, but don’t allow yourselves to stand aside.“
YouTube Video – Purging Passivity– an interesting video on a martial arts training approach with children (Christian perspective – fascinating – whether you agree or not)
