Chapter Eleven
Being a Dad that Makes Disciples Out of His Kids
Christians
these days talk a lot about what we call “The Great Commission.” The last words of Jesus Christ before he ascended
into heaven amount to a job description for we Christians on earth before he
returns. The core of it involves the
process of going and making disciples of all nations. This is a noble goal. This is a legitimate priority. I’ll step out on a limb here and say that
Jesus was right.
The
problem is that we’re awful at actually doing this. We know this is true. That’s why we talk about it so much. Christians nearly always talk the most about
things we do the least. I suspect the
problem lies not in programming or relevance or even intentions. Our churches today are the best ever. The 20th century may be the most
culturally relevant times for the church in history. The amount of evangelistic books, messages,
and movements has never been more prolific than today. Then why are we still so feeble at this chief
goal of “making disciples?” I suggest it
is because we haven’t even learned to do it with our own kids, whom we know
better than anyone. How then, can we
hope to transfer that process to other people?
The
Beef Station
Only
a quarter-mile down the road from our house in
It
was these breakfasts that taught how to be a Christian man, not
just do the things a Christian does. It was then that I learned the principles of
the New Testament. It was that day of
the week that I collected countless napkin diagrams that simplified life’s
spiritual principles with everyday “real” language. It was there that I first heard the inner
confessions of a father that was beginning to treat me like a man, even a peer. It was those mornings in which I was first discipled. We even called
this time our “discipleship meetings.”
My father knew that being Dad is discipling
your kids is the priority of your week.
Dad discipled me the
entire time I lived under his roof, but those intentional mornings together
were the Boot camp of my journey into spiritual maturity. Let’s examine ten principles of discipling our kids that I learned from my own discipleship
years with my Dad:
Let’s
spend some time praying about this quote:
“Being
Dad is discipling your kids as the priority of your
week.”
When
and where will I begin our discipleship meetings?
Chapter Twelve
Being a Dad that Makes Parables Out of Work
At
times I felt like it was my father’s mission in life to never let me sleep past
The
most memorable “work parable” of all came whenever we were using a handsaw to
cut a piece of wood. I would try to cut
it and the jagged blade would catch and jump and wobble and do everything but
cut the wood. Dad would then gently say,
“Son, let the saw do the work.” I
believe I heard that phrase from him more than 1,000 times in my life. Interestingly, only about half of those times
came while actually using a saw. The
other times were moments where the handsaw
parable on patience applied, and it would help me through. If I just relaxed and slowly pushed and
pulled the saw, the tool would cut the wood, rather than me cutting the wood.
These
simple work parables weren’t original to my Dad. Guess whom he heard them from? You got
it: his Dad. I believe every Dad has these little words of
wisdom to give, and being creative and constant in delivering them makes the
difference in passing on our wisdom to our kids. Creativity in expressing them enables our
kids to remember the words of wisdom.
Constancy in applying them to life enables our kids to live by the words
of wisdom.
Let’s
spend some time thinking of our own words of wisdom:
“Being
Dad is lacing life with words of wisdom for your kids.”
What
are some things I want to teach my kids?
Chapter Thirteen
Being a Dad that Deals with Death
In
just a matter of weeks they both died.
Grandpa had been ill for years… expected to not live long. Amputated legs, lost kidneys, heart ready to
quit: these things don’t make you expect a long life for an old man. But Grandpa was so bright and alive in mind
and spirit. He just didn’t quit -- until
one of his two sons died. My Dad’s only
sibling, my uncle, had a massive heart-attack at just 50 years of age. He died so suddenly and tragically that I
know several non-family members who were permanently shaken by it. Grandpa must have been shaken most because
his heart soon thereafter quit like his demeanor made us think it never would.
A
man in his forties searches for his legacy.
He sees the men that shaped him fade into What Is Next and looks to make
his own mark. Dad turned forty the year
grandpa and my uncle died. His identity
as a man was shaken as he dealt with death firsthand. More importantly, he came to grips with his
own eventual death, and it marked him. A
man must be marked before making a mark in the world—even if that mark extends
no farther than children.
Life
and Death
Dealing
with death is not easy for men. It is
less easy for fathers. As men, we have a
tough enough time with the insecurity the subject generates. As fathers we must also deal with the
position our own death would put our children in. The father factor makes the untenable idea of
death a horrifying subject not brought up on purpose.
Dad
dealt with these deaths by leaving a greater legacy than he would have if they
were alive today. He made his mark not
in spite of death but because of it. You
see, as dads we must discover quickly that we are not invincible. We must employ our mortality as the
motivation for living right in the present.
Dealing with death, as I’ve seen in my own father, is less about grief
than it is about life. The question,
“How will I live without so-and-so?” eventually transposes into “How will I
live my life from now on?” We cannot
simply examine other loved-one’s deaths.
Examination of our lives is the crux of dealing with death as a father. Who will mourn my death? Where will my legacy be left? Why would my children grieve most? What have I entrusted to them thus far in
life? Being Dad means dealing with
death as a fact of life.
Let’s
brood a bit about death and dying:
“Being
Dad means dealing with death as a fact of life.”
How
have I and my kids dealt with the issue of death?
©2004 David Drury
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