This week was a milestone in our family. Our two girls, Emily and Kaitlin both
had an interview with the elders to make their profession of faith in Christ to
become communing members of the church, and will be received publicly
soon. In case you’re unfamiliar,
we consider the children of members at NCPC as members of the church by virtue
of God’s covenant, but we designate them as non-communing members (not taking
communion) until they publicly profess faith in Christ for salvation. As a Dad and a pastor I rejoice these days to see many of our kids at NCPC take this huge step to own Christ publicly.
As a Dad it makes me soar to see my children expressing
their faith in Christ, but it reminds me of several things that keep me
properly grounded:
1.
I can’t
save my children. There is a strange line we walk as parents, since God
calls us to faithfulness in shepherding our kids and yet there is no way on
earth that we can save them. God
tells us we are one of the means He uses in their lives: “We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming
generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that
he has done” (Psalm 78:4). Yet I’m
also profoundly thankful that God alone is sovereign and powerful to make dead
hearts beat for Him (Eph. 2:4-5).
For me the knowledge that I can’t change their hearts drives me to
prayer. The fact that he uses me
as a tool encourages me to shepherd them with all my might.
2.
My
children are all unique. One thing I’ve noticed in this messy process of
shepherding my kids is that each child is unique, and yet I see God working in
all of them. He has wired them all
beautifully and part of my role is to celebrate that wiring and help them
channel their unique gifts for His glory.
Emily has great insight into the Word of God and her ability to
comprehend and apply it to her life makes me marvel at what God has in store
for her. Kaitlin’s compassion and
joy stun me daily. She seems built
to hurt with those who are hurting.
Caleb, even at four has the heart of a warrior. He wants to fight evil wherever he
finds it (hopefully in himself
most of all!). What will God do
with these little hearts? How will
they develop and change over the years?
I’m looking forward to it all.
And, lest you think my vision is tainted, one of the great things about
the membership interview process is the question of indwelling sin: The elders ask our kids (and adults!),
“What sins are you struggling with?
What commands of God are you currently struggling to keep?” I was encouraged to hear my kids answer
with honesty and even sadness about their own sin. As another wise Dad said to me once (Dave Witsken): “I’m not
looking for my kids to be perfect.
But I do pray that they will struggle when they sin.” That has helped me immensely, lest I
think that Jesus came to save only those who have it all together.
3.
My time
with them is short. A
shocking, staggering thought entered my mind recently: My
oldest child is about to enter youth group. “Of course, this can’t be true,” I say to myself. Yet it is inescapable; my time with
Emily under our roof is half over (those of you who have adult children at home
are snickering at this point).
Yes, my role as a Dad will never end, but as my kids grow my role will
change, the amount of time I get with them will decrease, and my level of
direct influence will change. So
what must I do? Gandalf urged this
question upon Frodo when he said, “All we have to do is decide what to do with
the time that is given to us.”
Time, as we’ve seen in Ephesians, is a stewardship, and time with our
children is no different. How can
I order my life, my work, my leisure time, my hobbies so I can pour into my
wife and children?
4.
I need
grace as much than they do. Another thing I’ve realized in this up and down
life as a Dad is this: I can’t do
it. No, I’m not giving up. But I’m realizing more and more in
reality what I already know in theory:
I don’t have the ability in myself to carry out my role, and I am in
desperate, daily need of overflowing grace upon grace. It’s not just that they need God’s
mercy; I need it also, and it is in my frequent failure as a Dad that the
Gospel seems to shine. I don’t
mean that I should sin more that grace might increase (may it never be!) but
when I pretend before them that I have it together I’m not helping them at
all! If the only hope for my kids
is grace from God through the perfect work of Jesus on the cross, then my only
hope to parent well is that same grace.
I desperately need a Savior who lived the life I could not. He is the only one who perfectly used
every moment. He is the only one
who faithfully shepherds those in His care. His life, death and resurrection give me forgiveness,
freedom and new power to be a Dad.
In my helplessness and weakness God shows Himself strong.
Again, to quote the Lord
Of The Rings, Samwise Gamgee makes a powerful statement about life’s big
picture. When Frodo is overwhelmed
by the task of being the ring-bearer, he nearly gives up, and Sam gives a
memorable speech:
FRODO: I can’t do this, Sam.
SAM: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But
we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know
the end. Because how could the end
be happy? How could the world go
back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing
thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with
you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand
why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do
understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of
chances of turning back only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something.
FRODO: What are we holding on to,
Sam?
SAM: That there’s some good in this
world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.
Sam is right, even if he doesn’t say enough. There is some good in this world that
is worth fighting for. What is it?
Tolkien’s vision was not that there is good in people and we just have
to find it. Sam doesn’t say
that. Tolkien was holding on to
the supreme Good: the God of our Lord Jesus, the Gospel of grace and the hope
of the New Heavens and the New Earth where sin will be washed away once and for
all. That’s the hope that helps me
not turn back from the task given to me as a Dad. It makes me want to persevere, because we are living in the
greatest story that could ever be told, and I want my children to live in that
story too.
Fighting the good fight with you,
Pastor David
