Where have all the good dads gone?

As this journal item came to me this morning I thought I can't believe I haven't told this story to you guys before now. After reading it you'll probably wish that I still hadn't. But here goes anyway..... My dad picked up and left our family when I was around four years old. I guess being there for his wife and four kids was a little too overwhelming for him. Okay, maybe that's a bit unfair for me to say since I don't really know why he left. Whatever the reason apparently he decided he couldn't be married to my mom any longer, and we kids got caught in the middle of the mess he left behind.

The earliest thing I remember about him is hearing the news around the age of six that he had shot and killed his second wife and the guy that he found her in bed with. I'm not sure I really had a full understanding as to what that meant, but I knew it wasn't a good thing. Vaguely I remember at some point in my youth overhearing grown ups discussing the fact that he was being held in the Ohio State Penitentiary on two counts of manslaughter. Again, I didn't rightly know what those charges meant from a legal standpoint but I figured he probably wouldn't be coming back home anytime soon.

Somehow my oldest sister got in touch with him after he was released (about the time I turned seventeen or so) and they had a birthday party for him at her apartment. I remember going over to my sister's that day but I can't tell you what we said to each other. It seems to me that it was, if nothing else, cordial. This is the only memory I have of spending any time with my father – about thirty minutes. I remember thinking he looked a lot different that I had envisioned. Every now and then I find myself thinking about how I've grown up to look like him in some ways.

He's still alive and resides just a few states away. I have his phone number and address but I've never written or called. Why? Honestly, I don't think I really know the answer to that question. I don't believe it's out of any amount of hatred, pain, or disgust – which I truly don't feel toward him anyway. I think it's simply because of the distance that has developed between us, if that makes any sense.

Over the years I've wondered if there is somehow deep down inside me a level of jealousy and anger that could cause me to shoot and kill another human being. I worried at one point if I had somehow been born with a sort of weird psychotic gene that could trigger some kind of outrageous behavior if I allowed myself to get out of control. So far I've never been guilty of any "crimes of passion." Nor have I allowed myself to fall into the trap of seeing myself as a helpless victim of a broken family. The truth is, all families are broken in one way or another, some you just have to dig a little deeper to see the break. For me though, I've never dwelt on how my life could've been better if I had had a father around, or how tough it was becuase he wasn't. I try to simply move forward while trying to learn all I can from my past.

I don't share all of this with you in order to strike up some sort of outpouring of pity – not at all. I wrote this because as I was thinking about the meaning of our celebration of Father's Day today I found myself wondering where have all the good dads gone? I know where my dad went, but as sad as it is to say, so many children grow up never knowing the answer to that question. Maybe you're one of those kids all grown up now. On a personal level the reality is that even more sadly is the self-admission maybe my own kids have rightfully asked the same question over the years.

Christian artist, Joel Engle sings a song (that I've loved for several years now) entitled The Father I never had that originated from the following experiences in his life (which I'm borrowing today from http://www.worshipsource.com/ website.

As a young boy growing up in San Francisco, Joel Engle never knew his father. Joel’s mother raised him as best she knew how, managing to provide by working a nine to five job at an oil company. Tragedy struck when Joel found his mother lying on the kitchen floor after suffering a stroke and was the one to call 911. Soon after she passed away leaving an eleven year old Joel in the care of his elderly grandparents. Just three years later there was even more upheaval when Joel’s grandfather passed away and his grandmother went to live in a retirement home. “Life was basically miserable and I was constantly afraid,” reflects Joel. “I was consumed with thoughts of what was going to happen to me. I felt alone, unloved, and unhappy.” At the age of fourteen, there was no other option for a distraught Joel but to check himself into the local Baptist Children’s Home.

While living at the children’s home, one thing that was consistent was Joel’s involvement in a youth choir at church as well as choir at school. “I loved music more than any other activity,” says Joel. “When I sang something inside me came alive and I could express myself in such a powerful way. I also had a burning desire to write songs and began taking piano lessons from a lady at church, but was absolutely horrible and I hated it.”

At the age of 16, Joel met some close friends of his house parents by the name of Dale and Nadine Engle. A bond was formed and soon after, he ended up not only moving in to live with them, but also became part of the family by taking their last name as his. It was a landmark year for Joel, including his realization that Christ was the only one that would never leave him. From then on with his hope firmly planted, there was no looking back.

Joel Engle is an amazing singer, songwriter, and worship leader who lives in Texas nowadays. If you're not familiar with his music you should check him out. He was one of the eight people that I emailed my original journal entry a few years back because of the impact his music and testimony has had on my life. I find that I can somehow relate to the depth of his songs in a very personal way.

You see, it's actually hard for me to be too critical of my father as to how or what he did with his life - for I haven't been much better a dad myself. No, I didn't get locked away in prison for the majority of my kid's youth, but I do feel like I abandoned them to some degree. Even though I got custody of my son somewhere between the time he was 16-18 months old and I had great intentions as to how I would raise him - we began a journey together struggling to deal with the results of my terrible choices in relationships for the next couple of decades. Who knows if he was really better off with me than with a mother who didn't want him around.

I spent a great deal of his youth in a career that required me to travel away from home quite a bit. My son was left to be cared for by someone else week in and week out as I gave him little time or attention. Don't get me wrong, I truly appreciate the way several of the women of my past tried to love him and care for him, but it wasn't the same as if I had been there as I should have. I usually was left to deal with the “issues” when I was around for the weekends. Whether they be school issues, behavioral issues, drug issues, etc.... what he got from me, more than anything else was the less-than-positive side of fatherhood. Unfortunately, my daughter got neither the good or the negative dad – she simply got money but no dad. She and her mom always lived in a town other than where we lived so I had even less time for her in life.

The hard truth is that this wasn't a mere matter of circumstances, yet it was simply a result of the bad choices I made over and over and over. I'm spending Father's Day this year like so many before – wishing that I could go back in time and change the decisions I made in who and what I decided to be in the lives of my children. I figure there was probably a night or two that my dad laid awake in his prison cell wishing he could go back and change some of the decisions he had made also, so in a way I guess I did turn out to be like my old man afterall.

One thing I know now that I wish I knew way back when, is that God the Father has given us every example of what a loving, and caring father should look like. His Word is chocked full of story after story about a father's love, discipline, sacrifice, leadership, toughness, providing, perseverance, and desire for the best for each of His children. What better self-help book for us father's could any man write? He wrote the original Fatherhood for Dummies yet so many of us never bother to crack open the pages to see what it says to us. Shame on us!

As easy as it is for some of us (insert – me) to beat ourselves up over our past mistakes, or more often than not to beat others up for their mistakes God is even more willing to forgive us and show us how much better a mom, dad, brother, sister, son, or daughter we can be with the time and opportunities we have here in the present. The biggest regrets I have for what I did or didn't do in the lives of my kids is completely overshadowed by how much God has done for me in my own life. So many carry ill feelings toward their mom or dad for far too long, when we should appreicate them for the positives they've added toour lives. I am so blessed to say that any hurt or sense of emptiness I may have had because of the absence of my dad has been replaced with the security of knowing my Heavenly father is always with me – even to the ends of the earth.

I was reminded this morning of a very important truth about fatherhood that I admit at times I've failed to see as being the important truth that it is. I've come to realize that my friend Joel Engle obviously found this to be his source of comfort at an early age. It comes from the words of David;

Psalm 27:10:
Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close.

Let me suggest this, if you feel abandoned, if you feel left out or cheated out of having a loving father, if you woke up this morning asking the question, “Where did all the good dads go?” – just know this, you're not alone. Unfortunately there are many of us that have felt the same way at times in our lives as well.

The good news of today is that there is hope for your situation. There is a cure for this much too common form of disease. For some of us, we have found that God the Father can fill any and all voids or missing parts of our lives, if we simply let Him. He stands in the gap of our needs and awaits our love and praise in return for all that He has already given us. Do you need a hug from Dad today? Go ahead, grab onto Him with all your might, rest in the warmth of His loving arms for a while. It'll feel oh so good - this I know!

Hey, who knows maybe today on this most special of all Father's Day it may finally be the right time for me to simply pick up the phone and call my daddy. Pray for me, as I will for you..... Doug

Having a "come-apart"

"They came to Jerusalem, and He went into the temple complex and began to throw out those buying and selling in the temple. He overturned the money changers ' tables and the chairs of those selling doves, and would not permit anyone to carry goods through the temple complex. Then He began to teach them: "Is it not written, My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations ? But you have made it a den of thieves !" Then the chief priests and the scribes heard it and started looking for a way to destroy Him. For they were afraid of Him, because the whole crowd was astonished by His teaching."
Mark 11:15-18

Even last Sunday I heard Pastor Bob mention the phrase “having a come-apart” during a very interesting and thought-provoking sermon. It must be an bama-thang cause I hear it all the time now. It seems that everyone's either on the verge of, or has just finished up having a come-apart around here. Makes me a little nervous. You just never know when or what will cause someone to begin having a come-apart so I try to always be on the lookout for any tell-tale signs. For a bunch of people planted in the mid-section of a laid back south (as most northerners look at us) there sure seems to be a lot of high-strung, ready to have a come-apart folks down here.

John was a 5'2” tall, pot-bellied, quickly balding, German immigrant dude I worked with for about five years way back when. He and his wife Mimi somehow found their way to America during the mass exodus of pre-war Nazi Germany. Somehow they landed in the foothills of east Tennessee which put them dead-square in the center of the path I was traveling. John was one of those high-strung fellers that was always, (and I can't emphasize “always” enough here) on the verge of having a come-apart. Two to three days a week he worked himself into a raging come-apart then pack up the tools he used to repair medical equipment and head toward the front door of our company. Almost every time someone would catch him just before he drove out of the parking lot and they would talk him into coming back to work. I say almost everytime because there were a couple of times where someone would have to go to his home and talk him into coming back to work the next day. Crazy as it sounds - it's the truth. After awhile it became a lot more humorous than serious and everyone would enjoy talking about the latest version of how John quit his job.

John-John (as I called him) chain-smoked cigarettes and cussed like a drunken sailor with every breath. A distinguishing lisp and his thick German accent made him such a “character” when he was in the midst of a full-blown come-apart. Spit would be flying out of his mouth as much as the profuse string of cuss words he would use to let everyone know what he was thinking. It was a sight to see and hear! Some of the guys we worked with enjoyed it so much that they would try and goad John into having a come-apart just so they could get a good laugh going. I hated that they did this, cause I knew, or rather suspected just how close John was to having a physical breakdown because of his inability to handle stress. Sure enough, one day the EMTs carried him out of the office on a stretcher due to a mild stroke which occurred when his soaring blood pressure pushed his body past its limit during one of his classic come-aparts. After that our co-workers quit trying to provoke him, for then they finally understood just how potentially dangerous their sickening actions had been.

I still remember going to pick up Mimi to take her to the hospital when John had his stroke as if it happened just yesterday. She was so sick with concern for her hubby, yet she wasn't one bit surprised at what had happened. She told me that she had been telling him for years that his body was going to have a come-apart if he didn't quit smoking and letting himself get so worked up over every little thing. Her concerns were confirmed – it did happen. Fortunately John was able to share a few more precious years with his wonderful wife after his first of several strokes as he did try to cut down on the smokes, cussin' and the frequency of his come-aparts, but there's only so much a man can do on his own I guess.

As I read the above scripture it reminded me that according to Mark all of this occurred immediately after a hungry Jesus had cursed a fig tree which he saw from a distance when it contained no fruit, yet was simply full of leaves. One might mistakenly get a mental picture of Jesus “having a come-apart” that morning, but most of know that everything He did - he did it for a purpose and with a lesson in mind for his listeners and viewers.

All of His so-called come-aparts were for a reason - He had little free-time left on earth, so He had to take advantage of every opportunity afforded him in order to get the message across that the ways of old were no longer acceptable. A new order was being put in place and it held no regard for the self-centered religious piety of the sacred temple, or even a fruitless creation which was designed to bear fruit. All would be cursed, overturned and stripped away if their focus wasn't placed on God and his message of salvation. Jesus wasn't having a come-apart as much as He was conducting a come to Jesus meeting with anyone or anything He came into contact with that still didn't seem to get it!

John never found the peace he truly needed in his life. He was never able to stop having the come-aparts he was so well known for. John, as far as I know never found salvation before he died, and the thought of that makes me sad even some twenty-five years after his death. You see, I knew that John wasn't a bad person, he was simply a lost person. I knew him as a good friend, a good husband to Mimi, and a lover of two pug-nosed dogs. Most people only knew him for his come-aparts, or his astonishing ability to repair even the most complex medical devices, yet I knew him for the love he had in his heart. You may know someone just like John in your life today. If so, I encourage you to try and share the message of the Good News with them - God's message of hope and mercy and grace, but most of all true peace which so many of the John - John's of today are so desperately seeking for their lives.

The part of the country I live in today sure seems to have a lot of folks ready to have a come-apart and I think today is the first day I recognized this might be the reason God sent me here. Not because I'm above having a come-apart over senseless stuff, (just ask Dale or rather on second thought please don't it would be too embarrassing) but because I know where my peace comes from before and after my come-aparts. It comes from the Spirit of the same feller that on a bright and beautiful morning some two thousand years ago cursed a fig tree and cleared a temple that was over ran with thieves and merchants and He did it within the fullness of His authority.

In the book of James he tells us that if we claim to belong to Christ yet don't control what comes from the tips of our tongues then we're simply fooling ourselves, and our claims to belong to His kingdom are meaningless. I'll be honest here, I have a lot of room for improvement in this area, but I need to be sharing His message of hope all the while I grow and improve. I can't wait until I'm completly "fixed" before I start telling others of His amazing works and neither can you.

True peace comes from rising above the acceptable practices of our day and/or stop giving the appearance of being fruitful, and become fruitful. For so many of us all we do is simply move from one come-apart to the next when we need to start living a life that exemplifies our faith in Christ where we don''t have a meltdown everytime we face minor trials and tribulations. James goes on to tell us that though the tongue is small it can become an enormous danger to us, for it can become like a blazing flame of destruction - especially in the midst of an uncontrollable come-apart . Then he goes on to give us the answer as to how to rise above our come-aparts and how we can begin to grow and mature.

“So let God work his will in you. Yell a loud no to the Devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and he'll be there in no time. Quit dabbling in sin. Purify your inner life. Quit playing the field. Hit bottom, and cry your eyes out. The fun and games are over. Get serious, really serious. So get down on your knees before the Master; it's the only way you'll ever make it on your feet."

A tried and true method to putting an end to the come-aparts which I desperately wish I had shared with my old friend John-John before it was too late..... doug