Sons

Every man should be blessed with sons.  I’ve just spent a few days with my two, and I’m the better for it. 

Josh, Jeff, and I have a ton of shared experiences and mutual memories – “Guys Trips” every summer, hundreds of ballgames, teaching them how to throw a baseball, drive a car, catch a fish, read a map, tie a tie, and treat a lady.

My two sons are now grown men, mature, with responsibilities.  You could drop one of them into almost any wilderness and he could survive.  You could drop the other into almost any world city and he could survive.  Together they are a barrel of laughs and a boatload of winsome confidence (a character attribute instilled by their mother).   I never tire of being with them.

The Bible says, “Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.  Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth” (Psalm 127:3-4).  My boys are both straight arrows, and pretty sharp.  I’m proud of them and the men they have become. 

On good days I see me in them - their physical features, gestures, mannerisms.

On better days I see them in me – their authenticity, genuineness, curiosity about life, and genuine concern for others.

Like all sharp arrows, my boys have the capacity to sting you if you grow careless around them.

They can be merciless.  Josh and Jeff have studied me for nearly 30 years and I sometimes fear they know me better than I know myself.  When they humorously imitate me they become mirrors in which my idiosyncrasies are highlighted - usually to my great discomfort.  They confront me with myself and force me to laugh at the caricature.  I hope one day their own sons will return the favor.  I especially look forward to the day they muse under their breath, “I’ve become my dad.”   (An experience I find myself having with increasing frequency.)

I think the days a man feels closest to God are the days he has the opportunity to say, “You are my son.  I’m proud of you.  I love you.”