Parental Examples

Oh, if more of us could realize that we are not in charge. The Christian life begins with a recognition that we are not in charge–God is! Jesus is declaring to the disciples: Go into the world knowing who is in charge and what it will mean to act upon that knowledge!

What a different world we would have if parents were raising their children with=2 0the uncompromising knowledge that God is in control of the world and can be in control of their lives. If their children are willing to submit their lives to His care. Baptism is about who owns whom–God presumably owns us. But we do not always act like it.

Ah, there is the rub–we do not like to be under anyone’s authority–even under the loving authority of God who sent His only begotten Son to die for our sins. But we can. We must.

It must be done. William Willimon warns Christian parents not “to lose nerve.” We need to stand up for what is right–and what is right is what is in the Bible–and to make sure that our children honor that truth. And, in time, hopefully, embrace that truth.

My own father is on my own mind a lot these days–he died on Father’s Day, 1982. My Dad made me go to church. He loved our unpretentious small, Methodist Church. No matter how often we hunted or fished on Sunday morning–and we often did–we always managed to return before Sunday school. On many of my childhood Sunday mornings I had to exorcise huge black bass from my mind and to rub sleep from my eyes. But I came. And I was there. And it was in Sunday school that I learned that God was in control. It was by watching my father that I learned that God was in control. That some things were more important that our agendas.

It did not come easily. I remember one infamous Sunday morning when I mistakenly deposited some crappie=2 0bass fish entrails on Mrs. Higginbotham’s expensive fox fur during the Assurance of Pardon. While her quiet scream was interpreted by most of the congregation as an exuberant expression of gratefulness for God’s forgiveness, my father, at least, knew, that I had improperly washed my hands earlier in the morning. My admiration for my dad’s dedication to church attendance was somewhat compromised when I realized that there were limits to his tolerance of childhood improprieties.

But, between early morning fishing trips and late night frog gigging expeditions, I fell in love with the man’s God. I knew that if God was half as considerate, consistent, fair, and, at times, mischievous as my dad . . . well, then, He was the kind of God I wanted to trust my life to. So, when I was 17 years old I gave my life to my earthly father’s God. And I have never regretted my decision.

How about you, parents? Will your children want to give their lives to the God you serve?

Think about it . . . and come, let us glorify the Lord and magnify His name forever . . .

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