“Don't you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry,
So just look at them and sigh and know they love you”
Crosby, Stills, Nash &Young
Today is July 13, 2008 and my Dad turns 60 today. Some people might be embarrassed and upset if their age was revealed in a public forum like an Internet blog. However, I don’t think my Dad has anything to hide. Whenever our Mongolian friends see pictures of either set of our parents, they are amazed at how young they look. So let that be of some comfort.
I want to dedicate this post to my Dad. I’ve been recently reflecting about the impact that my Dad has had on my character and on my life in general, and I find myself amazed and grateful. Here are just a few reflections, that I hope will honor him during the celebration of his 60th year of life on earth.
We weren’t necessarily a Christian family in the early days. It’s not that we were satan-worshiping, dance-in-a-loin-cloth-under-the-full-moon pagans. It was just a little later in our familial life that God had mercy on all of us. We did go to a couple of little churches on occasion. Both were of the hyper-fundamentalist sort that made guys with a bit of hair over the ear a little uncomfortable (sing: If your hair is too long, there is sin in yer heart...). Nevertheless, I learned a personal spirituality from my father that carries with me to this day. My Dad understood the importance of solitude and prayer, even before he knew the Jesus that he prays to today. Before and after he became a Jesus-follower, I still remember him spending hours in the front yard watering the trees. He wasn’t fooling us though. Sure he likes trees (to this day he likes trees). But all of us knew he wasn’t just watering trees. He was spending time with God. That value is one I still carry with me today.
I can remember being asked to pull the weeds out of the shrubbery that surrounded our house. It wasn’t a fun job. I remember having better things to do (but as I write this, I can’t for the life of me figure out what that was). So I did the job (more or less) and I went to Dad to see if I was finished. I asked the fatal question.
“Is it good enough?”
I learned an important lesson that day. I learned that if a job is worth doing, it’s worth doing well. Don’t do anything “good enough”. Do it well. That summer day pulling weeds out of the bushes was actually an important one for me. I am sure I did plenty of jobs only just “good enough” after that, but my conscience was forever formed that day. “Good enough” is never good enough. Today I put in Biblical terms. “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all of your might” Ecclesiastes 9:10. “Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men” Colossians 3:23. This has been invaluable to me. I know it’s probably a little mundane to talk about the fact that I learned my work ethic from my father. But the fact is that I did - and for that i am grateful.
I recently purchased a copy of Alex and Brett Harris’s book “Do Hard Things” for each of my kids. I am requiring them to read it over the summer while they are in the US. I actually learned the truth of how to ‘do hard things’ from my Dad. He allowed my brother and I the freedom to walk in that which was difficult. We watched him not shy away from that which is difficult. In a day and age when the movies and television caricaturizes so many men as gutless conflict avoiders and emotional/relational goons, my Dad stands far above all of those poor impressions of masculinity and has taught me what I know to be real courage, along with the ability do the hard thing - even when I don’t feel like it.
When I was young, I always knew that my Dad loved my Mom. I am not so naive as to think that they didn’t go through choppy waters that it seems every marriage must navigate through. But for me, as a kid, I never doubted their love for each other. I also always knew my place. Mom was first. Not my brother or me. While that goes against every politically correct formula for raising kids - it was right. We knew that if we hurt or offended Mom - then we hurt and offended Dad twice as much. He still loves our Mom today - coming up on 40 years later. I learned a lot from that more or less silent witness. I feel the same about my wife today.
I could go on. He showed courageous faith in Christ when he cashed in the life's savings to follow what he knew to be God’s leading in opening a Christian Bookstore. My standards of customer service and management are fruits of a couple of good (and sometimes tumultueus) years working for him there. I’m still not a perfectionist (he is). But I sure have upped my standards for what I consider satisfactory work and planning. I am not a natural “planner” - but I learned to go against my natural grain of “let it happen when it happens” and to instead think through projects and plans in critical way. In my work as a pastor, planner, leader and now overseas Christian worker - this has been invaluable. He taught me how to play the guitar, how to appreciate music - and the value of listening to the Beatles, the Kinks, the Hollies and several other bands from the British Invasion.
As I sit here and think about it - in almost every area of my life - I am indebted to my father. I know that he would say, “it wasn’t me”. But I also know that I didn’t learn those things on my own. I hope that I leave half the legacy to my children that he’s left to me.
Dad just celebrated his 60th by successfully hiking to the bottom of the Grand Canyon (and more importantly back up again) with some Old High School friends, once again proving that he’s not afraid of the doing the hard thing.
So, Happy Birthday Dad. I hope your ‘season’ is peaceful.
Know that you’ve taught your children well.
Bernie Anderson
