At age 16, my best friend, David, died. Only a few days before his death we had been teammates in a mud volleyball tournament. I was also 16 and I was hurt, confused, and angry. I was not interested in allowing anyone to console me or speak wisdom into my life. Rather, in my exasperation of life circumstances, I decided to restlessly engage the vices of life. Why not? Up until that point, my relationship with God was a quid pro quo one. I thought that if I attempted to live a good life, then God should give that to me in return.
So, over the next number of years of my life drugs, alcohol, and the disrespect of woman became daily ills, sabotaging future opportunities and current relationships, not to mention forming addictive behaviors. From a college basketball scholarship to personal relationships, I was experiencing loss from every approach, driving me to greater anger.
At the end of my Freshman year at Baylor, my life progressed to the point where the decisions I’d been making had irreparable consequences. The law was involved. Getting booted from college was on the table. So, like most any boneheaded college boys would do, I thought I better call my father and frame the story before he got a call from Waco PD or a dean from the university. That call changed my life.
Inward perspective gripped me. I had a lot to be thankful for. My parents were consistent followers of Jesus and churchgoers. I knew my mom was a woman of prayer and my dad was a man of integrity. But I was stubbornly going to blaze a different path and find my own way. They had taught me the ways of Jesus, but I was more interested in the ways of AC/DC, Magic Johnson, and what my peers thought of me day in and day out.
As I dialed a rotary phone from my dorm room, the call didn’t go anything like I expected. By the way, my dad isn’t the type of guy who says a lot, but when he does, everyone leans in to listen. For the first few minutes I began talking, it felt like I was speaking to an empty line, except for the occasional static which assured me someone was there listening. And, then as I attempted to put a bow around “my” narrative of the circumstances, I simply said, “Dad, the truth is, I’m in big trouble.”
Up until that moment, even with hundreds of Sunday School lessons under my belt, my understanding of God the Father was simply a Judge who makes decrees on my life based on my own goodness. I hadn’t comprehended a Father who could both be just and yet extravagant with his grace. And listen, it’s not like I hadn’t heard about this Father. My parents faithfully expressed Proverbs 22.6, “Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.” But remember, at that point, I was blazing my own path.
And then on the other end of the phone, my earthly father framed the narrative I needed to hear and see. He said, “Son, your mom and I are sad with the decisions you’ve been making, but you are as much my son today as you ever have been.” What? You’re not going to cast me off or express your embarrassment? In my mind, I was living with so much shame, I thought and even expected my father to distance himself from me. In fact, in a weird, contorted, agonizing way which matched my life choices, I thought it would have been significantly easier for me if my father had hung up the phone, discarding me and my wrecked existence rather than offering grace, unconditional love, and forgiveness. If ever Ephesians 6.4 was being applied, it was now.
He continued by saying, “If you need me to drive to Waco to help, I’ll get in the car. If you need to come home, you’re always welcome.” And like the picture of the good father in Luke 15, I was seeing the attributes of my heavenly Father being expressed in my earthly father. For me, everything changed that day. My father’s response pointed me to the overwhelming, all-consuming love of God. In my mind, He stopped being only a Judge and became Savior.
Genesis 18.19 says, “For I have chosen him, so that he will direct his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just.” If you are a father, you are the intentional choice of the heavenly Father to express his attributes to your children. Walk in that way and delight in the pleasure of seeing your children transformed before your eyes.
Eric Herrstrom: Disciple of Jesus. Passionate husband and dad to two girls. Lover of the local church and planting among the least reached. Connoisseur of craft coffee, college sports, and Mexican food. Author of Integrity is a Lost Art and fervent advocate of adoption!
