Here’s To The Future

I’ve written before about how much I love being a dad. I really feel like it’s my calling in life. I love my four kids more than life itself. I have lived my life for them. It is the coolest thing to be able to watch them grow.

I remember when Danae, my oldest was first learning to walk. She would get out of bed in her footie pajamas and you could hear her coming down the hall, pad pad pad pad. Having a child completed me in so many ways. She was a great big sister to Hope who came along a couple of years later. They were both great sisters to Josiah who came along five years later. All three of them dote on John, who Josiah prayed into existence for three years.

Each stage of my children’s lives has been so unique and wonderful. From totally dependent babies to totally independent toddlers to happy kids to awkward preteens to surprisingly human teenagers to responsible adults. I have adored every moment of watching my kids grow.

The best time starts in Middle School. I know, you can’t believe that Middle School would be the best. But think about it. They are grown up enough to have a personality and intelligence to have great conversations and yet don’t have a drivers licence yet, so you have to haul them everywhere. Relationships are built in the hauling.

Danae was such a little adult. She would mother-hen her friends. She would get in the car after school, turn back to her friends and holler, “Bye! Make good choices!” She would proceed to tell me about all the drama that was going on. I had no idea which girl was a best friend and which one was a worst enemy from day to day. Heck, I couldn’t keep up at all. But we were together and that was everything to me. Then one day, it happened. She got her drivers licence. Within two seconds she had graduated and gone to a state college an hour and a half away.

In the meantime, Hope was at that great age. She was in Middle School the first year I had to take Danae to High School. One morning going down a street from the High School to the Middle School, we started saying hello to everything. Good morning real estate sign, good morning church, good morning park…It was a riot. We cracked up and did it every day we took that route. To this day, that street makes me miss Hope. We weren’t just goofy. We memorized the Gettysburg Address, the preamble to the Constitution and prepped for tests. I miss those days.

Soon, Hope was at the High School and Josiah was in Middle School. Josiah was a quiet, thoughtful boy one minute and a rambunctious teenage boy the next. We would talk about sports, music, current events. Those days were great and I didn’t even realize how special they all were.

Time passed and Danae got a job in Oklahoma City and through a few trials, actually did great. She has been promoted and will soon be moving with the company to Dallas. I am so very proud of her. She is an amazing woman.

Hope went off to the same university Danae went to. A funny thing happened. Through a trip her mother took and some prayer, Hope visited a private Christian university in Virginia Beach. She loved it, transferred out there and has flourished. I am thrilled to my soul to see what an incredible woman she is.

In the meantime, Josiah blazed through High School. He took a trip to see Hope in Virginia Beach. He visited a few colleges while he was out there. One campus in Lynchburg, VA caught his eye. He applied, got scholarships and is excited about his future.

Today, Josiah and his mom are driving to Virginia. I could not be more proud of the man he has become. He’s going to do great. I know it.

That brings me back home. I still have John, my sweet boy. His difficulties and handicaps in this life have not made him bitter. He is sweet and kind and wonderful. I love him with all my heart. But he’s growing up fast as well.

It is the way of children to grow up. It’s healthy. It’s right. It’s good. They should leave the nest, spread their wings and fly.

Here are my two biggest problems. First, I identified myself as dad. When they leave, my identity starts collapsing. I don’t know what to do with myself. My pride in my children does not fill the gaping hole in my heart that came with them growing up. Every time one of them left home, part of me died.

My second problem is that by identifying myself primarily as dad, I didn’t primarily identify myself as husband. And my wife of thirty years is done with me. She told me she wanted a divorce eighteen months ago. I asked to be able to stay for Josiah’s senior year. She allowed that, but his senior year is more than over.

I asked if we could live separate and platonic lives under one roof to take care of John. Quite frankly, he is a full time, two person job. He is sweet and wonderful. But his inability to walk makes it very difficult. At this point, she won’t even consider that option.

Everyone that I have ever loved is leaving me one by one.

Except for Jesus. Jesus gives me strength and hope to make it every day. He gives me courage to watch my kids grow and instead of dwelling on the pain, He helps me rejoice in their successes.

If past experience is any indication of future performance, I will grieve for Josiah like I lost a loved one for about a week. Then the Holy Spirit will kick my butt and remind me what an amazing man he is and to get on with life. He’s done that for me twice before with his sisters. I have no reason to believe He won’t again.

For the life of me, I have no idea how people survive without Jesus.

God is good. Just typing this out has helped me get a better perspective. I have the four best children in the world. I love them and take such pleasure in looking at who they are becoming. I even expect John to turn out perfect. I mean, why not? God’s good.

So to my wonderful kids, I say to you…Here’s to the future! Now get out there! Take the world by storm. You can do it. Hold Jesus’ hand! He will never fail you! And your dad will never stop loving and believing in you.

Ramblings of a Proud Papa

When last I blogged, I wrote about how difficult I thought my son’s graduation would be. The private Christian school he attended provided him with many opportunities to be involved. He was a five-sport athlete in high school. He was the lead in two school musicals. He went on a medical mission trip to Africa. Plus he led worship in their chapel. I was wrong about the level of difficulty. Josiah’s graduation wasn’t difficult at all. It was one of the proudest moments I’ve experienced as a dad.  Not only did I have the joy of seeing him walk across the stage, but he also earned the rank of Salutatorian.

I love my kids and think they are wonderful. Most parents do. But my goal as a parent has always been to raise kids that other people enjoy and appreciate. I have been able to experience seeing other people love and appreciate each of my kids. This is such a blessing. But I’m not kidding when I say that I was blown away by how others see my son. Several people commented to me how much they love and appreciate him. That never gets old. But nothing prepared me for this.

Oklahoma Bible Academy, like most schools, recognizes the academic, athletic, and extracurricular accomplishments of its students. But at graduation, they also recognize the spiritual leadership exhibited by a select few of the seniors. They give away four Christian Character Awards, built around the Biblical examples of Solomon, Daniel, Job, and Timothy. These awards are voted on by the faculty and the senior class.

The headmaster stood at the podium and read the following:

The Daniel Award is given each year to a senior who has demonstrated Christian leadership.  It acknowledges a young person who desires to do things God’s way and chooses the right path even when it is not the popular choice. The award is based on the leadership role characterized by a heart’s desire to make God’s choice their own.  The leader is not always vocal, yet is consistently driven to seek first the Kingdom of God.

THE RECIPIENT OF THE DANIEL AWARD is Josiah Frisbie

As he was reading the description, I was thinking, “That sounds like my Josiah.” But then I dismissed it as dad bias. When Josiah’s name was called, I was floored. I was so grateful that my son lives a life that his peers and teachers see as exemplary. Several of his friends’ dads came to me after the ceremony was over and talked about what a great influence my son was on their sons. I can’t put into words what that did to me. My son is a godly man who makes a difference in the lives of others. You can’t teach that as a parent. There is no formula for that. I can honestly tell you that I have just loved him, offered some guidance, discipline, and correction along the way, and then watched him grow into an amazing man.

Josiah is a blessing.

Another thing happened during graduation. He and three friends sang this song.

It is impossible for me to say how proud I am of him. I’m grateful that God has allowed four of the best human beings I’ve ever known to grow up in my home. I love them all so very much. But this was Josiah’s night. I’m so pleased that other people got to see him shine.

 

A New Season Is Coming

I have worked in many capacities over the course of my life. I have been a youth pastor, a pastor, a college professor, a college recruiter, a traveling musician, a medical/pharmaceutical headhunter. I have been a salesman. I sold televisions, appliances, radio ads, home medical equipment. I have worked in restaurants, greenhouses, nursing homes, funeral homes. I have put in chain link fences, stained wood fences, and annoyed people as a telemarketer. Heck, for a few weeks in high school, I dug ditches.

In my years on this earth, I’ve done many things. But there is not one job that I have loved more or wore the title with more pride, joy, and fulfillment that this: I have been blessed to be a dad.

It’s difficult to accept that the window of my direct influence is closing. One week from today, my oldest son, Josiah graduates from high school. I’ve been through this before. I have beamed with pride as my daughters’ names were called, and they walked across the stage and received that diploma. I also remember moving them into their college dorm rooms. I remember the bittersweet feeling of hugging them, going back to my car and trying to no avail not to cry. Heck, my eyes are leaking right now just remembering.

I’m looking ahead and behind right now.* Forgive me, but this is more stream of consciousness than organized writing.* I love that boy. Josiah has done all the things I wanted to do, but he does them so much better than me. He’s an athlete. He’s a tremendous musician. He’s brilliant. For goodness sakes, he’s a full four inches taller than me. But most of all, he’s a good man.

Josiah, in 18 years, has surpassed everything I’ve done in 53. I have said that before. Young guys say that I’m too hard on myself and I shouldn’t put myself down. Old farts get it. They say things like, “That’s what you want.” It is. It really is. I never want any of my kids to peak where I did. I want them to do the great things that God has for them. I want them to be the great people God intends them to be.

I love all of my kids. I have come to grips with my daughters leaving home. It took a while and it wasn’t easy. But they are great girls and I believe in them. I miss them every day. I still have my boys at home and I love every minute of having them home.

But Josiah graduates one week from now and I miss him already.

 

The Code

I went to a small Christian college. When I say small, I mean tiny. There were two dorms, one for the guys and one for the girls. As a guy, it was great because it was like every guy on campus lived in the same frat house. But it wasn’t too wild. It was a very conservative Christian school. We had dorm hours. 10:30 weeknights. Midnight weekends. That was kind of a bummer, but it helped build great community.  I can connect with any of those guys all these years later, and it’s like no time has passed. It was a great season of life.

One of the downsides of that small college was the small number of women to date. Most of them were there to find a husband. That isn’t misogynistic. That’s a fact. There were very few of them that were attractive. They had their choice of dates. Again, I know that this is going to sound mean, but it’s true. Most of the girls were, were, um, how do I say this? They were…well, let’s just say the couches in the girl’s dorm lounge were always broken. Lots of “great personalities.” Tons in fact.

One night, after the doors were locked, it was the typical scene. Some guys were studying. Others were hanging out, watching TV. Guys were goofing off, in various stages of undress, just being guys. Then the pay phone rang (Yes, the pay phone. It was that long ago.). One of the girls from the girl’s dorm called in a panic. There were guys snooping around outside, trying to peek in the windows.

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a testosterone explosion, but it’s something to behold. Within 30 seconds, every guy in the place knew what was happening, grabbed baseball bats, hammers, rocks, ANYTHING and bolted out the door. We scoured the campus. We were ready to bring the pain to those pervs. Our eyes flashed red. Steam poured from our ears. It. Was. On.  After about ten minutes of heart pounding, it became clear. Nobody was there.

Quietly, in our various stages of undress, our cadre of masculinity walked back to the dorm. The silence was deafening. We were both relieved and upset that there was nobody to smack around. In the end, our women were safe. That had all of us thinking along the same line. “What was that all about?” The quandary left us silent.

Out of the silence, spoke the sage of the ages, Mark “Cuss” Watkins. Cuss was exactly what that name would lead you to picture. Large guy, cowboy boots, cowboy hat with a confederate flag bandana tied around it, gym shorts, cut off Texas Tech t shirt, and a bright red beard that would make the Duck Commander jealous. Cuss spoke and he spoke for all of us.

“Okay, they’re cows. But they’re our cows.”

Every last one of us fell to the parking lot in laughter. That sums it up. These aren’t perfect people, but they are our people and I will defend them to my last breath. That’s the unwritten Dad Code. It’s the unwritten Friend Code. And it seems to me to be a great code for living life.