prophet and disciple and companion. Then there were all those scriptures to support his tally. It was neatly outlined. The delivery was impressive, too. The only thing is that when he neared the end, I felt like David strapped down with Saul’s armor—I couldn’t get up from the pew. Whew!

N

I glanced around to see other fathers in a similar mind-set. They, like I, were trying not to show it. Throughout the concluding hymn, we men were wonder- ing how we could pull it off. How could we become perfect fathers?

OT TOO LONG AGO I heard the preacher tell the congregation all that a father is to be. He made us priest and king and

the thick Bible positioned in the center and ask if they ever dropped French fries, catsup and all, on their laps. No, that could never happen to such a family! How could it ever be with such sweetness abounding?

I have seen those same perfect fami- lies walk into church. They slide down the center aisle, Bibles in hand, and take their places. How could that lovely wife ever argue with her handsome, smiling husband?

But enough years have gone by that I know being a good father isn’t a matter of appearances. It doesn’t matter if I could jump into that slick magazine cover with the perfect family. When I stand before my Maker, He won’t ask me to smile or show off my family. Instead, I must be

first time the day’s ending had wound down to this.

Then I caught his big, brown eyes turn a bit more to size up my expression. With that, I wilted. After all, he knew he had done wrong earlier. But there was the look of hope in his face. Could there be mercy in the court?

I closed my eyes and prayed, “Dear Lord, thank You for my boy. You know how much I love him. He means the world to me. Now we thank You for this night’s sleep. Be near us all. And may tomorrow be a good day. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

He swung his body toward me and hugged me tightly around the neck. His eyes were closed tight. There was no more reason to glance and wonder.

“BEING A GOOD FATHER ISN’T A MATTER OF APPEARANCES. WHEN I STAND BEFORE MY MAKER, HE WON’T ASK ME

TO SMILE OR SHOW OFF MY FAMILY. INSTEAD, I

MUST BE ABLE TO FACE HIM HONESTLY AND SAY, ‘WITH YOUR HELP, I DID MY BEST—EVEN IN THE WORST OF TIMES.’”

I know I’m supposed to take my chil- dren to church and teach them the Bible, how to pray, and the salvation path early in life. I know it is even more important for me to live the truth than talk about it. But what formula applies when fam- ily problems increase? I grapple with the priestly, prophetic, and kingly hats, only to find them slipping off my brow. And then I glance to my right and left, hoping the world isn’t watching. After all, as a Christian father, am I not to live out the perfect example?

I must confess that I’m not always up to it, whether the church is glaring at me or not. And the longer I live, the more I reason that few others are always up to it either. It has taken some time, however, to accept that as fact.

I guess the attractive pictures on reli- gious magazines—the ones with a hand- some man and gorgeous wife surrounded by beautiful offspring—really did brain- wash this naive mind. I gazed at those perfect families seated on the sofa with

able to face Him honestly and say, “With Your help, I did my best—even in the worst of times.”

The other evening, I had a tussle with my 7-year-old son. We were not seeing eye-to-eye on a matter. It was time for him to get ready for bed, and I felt as if the evening had been botched up. I didn’t like the feeling at all.

After he climbed into his pajamas and then curled up under the blanket, I sat on the edge of his bed and prepared to pray, as I usually do.

Should I turn the prayer into a mini lec- ture, trying to get in one last punch? Don’t the pros tell us that during sleep the brain keeps on absorbing the last thoughts that are planted on the mind? Well, this would be my chance!

Or should I turn tender and love the little fellow to pieces? Would that be copping out, or would it be wisdom?

His face was turned away from me. He was wondering as well what approach Dad would take! After all, this was not the

“Daddy, do you love me even when I am bad?” he asked in my ear.

“Yes,” I answered. “I always love you.” So, with that he said one of the most encouraging statements known to humanity. It was nothing new, yet it was powerful.

“You’re the best daddy in the world.” It was then that I promised myself something. Yes, there’s still much room for improvement as far as my being a father is concerned. And yes, I’ve goofed from time to time. Yet that night I told my memory to hold on to one thing as the years kept passing by. It was the innocent testimony of a little boy to a father who was sincerely trying. “You’re the best daddy in the world.” Don’t forget it, I said to myself as I turned out the light. Don’t ever forget it.

J. Grant Swank Jr. is a

minister and writer who lives in Windham, Maine.

EVANGEL • JUNE 2010 21 Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33