I have two grandsons that have both grown several inches over the past year. One of their goals was to be taller than Gramma. This was not a difficult task since she is only 4’11”. Next, they have set their sights on bypassing their dad in height. Each time I see them, they are getting closer and closer.
I remember a similar goal when I was a young boy. Mine was a bit different. My goal was established one day when Dad and I were walking together in some deep snow. I was struggling to keep up and Dad called back to me, “Walk in my footprints, it will be easier.” I believe this was one of the many times dad was demonstrating his orneriness. He was not a tall man, but he had massive strides when he walked. I believe on this occasion; he stretched each one a bit further just to mess with me and make my attempt at matching him more difficult. However, no matter his motivation, I determined at that moment that I would one day be able to match my father’s strides and we could walk together. In other words, I wanted to walk in my father’s footsteps. As a young boy, this meant having legs long enough to keep up. But as I grew, I discovered that my true goal was a bit more profound. I still wanted to keep up with him physically. But I grew to understand that there was a deep desire in my life to walk as my father walked on his spiritual journey as well.
One of the lifestyle issues I most admired was when Dad prayed. He dropped out of school in the eighth grade to help on the family farm. This resulted in a limited amount of career opportunities as an adult. My dad was a welder in a factory. But to make ends meet, he worked at least 2 other jobs in the evenings. This resulted in his being away quite late some nights. However, if Dad was home, we always practiced what he called “Family Altar”. This was a time when my sisters, Mom, Dad, and I would read Scripture together and then we would all kneel in our living room and each pray. Dad was always last. Because of the era, he used a lot of thee’s and thou’s, and I did not always understand all he said. But what I could discern was that there was power in what Dad was doing.
One time my oldest sister was running with a sharpened pencil and fell, driving the point through the roof of her mouth. Dad gathered her in his arms and prayed and the bleeding stopped, and the wound healed. My younger sister contracted polio. Dad called together some men from the church and they laid her on the altar and prayed and my sister’s legs regained their strength and she walked normally. Dad did not have a special knowledge or gift from God. There were no magic formulas or incantations, he just came boldly into God’s presence and made his requests known. Not every prayer resulted in a miracle, nor were all of them answered as Dad would have liked, but he never wavered in his confidence that God heard him and would act for the good of the Kingdom.
I eventually bypassed my Dad in height by a good three inches. I could easily match his strides when we walked together. But I am not sure if I have ever been as tall as my dad when he was on his knees.
Men, in just a few days, we celebrate what it means to be a Father. This year give the gift of prayer to your children and/or grandchildren. Give them an example of faith and pursuit of God. Stand tall on your knees as a testimony to your family, your friends, and acquaintances that your confidence is in God alone.