Filed under: leadership, parenting, relationships | Tags: christian parenting, david herndon, fear, gulf of mexico, kayak, paddle board, parenting, sand dollars, snorkeling
Two weeks ago my family was vacationing on The Gulf of Mexico. There was a sandbar about 400 yards into the ocean, so as we looked out from the beach the water gradually became darker and then lighter again. One of my favorite activities each day was to take my 10 year old son, a kayak, and a paddle board from the beach to the sandbar and then along the edge of the sandbar back and forth. Since the water was so clear we could see EVERYTHING that swam and lived underneath– schools of mullet and redfish, Spanish Mackerel, King Mackerel, Sting rays, Blue crabs, and Sharks.
It was beautiful, and even more so because I was sharing this experience with my son.
It was so rewarding to introduce him to the adventure of paddling and to expose him to the beauty of creation – two things that I did not discover for myself until later in my life. I could also see his self-confidence grow before my eyes as he paddled miles through the week on his own among sharks and sting rays and mackerels.
He’s not a little boy anymore.
One of our last days we drifted over the sandbar and my son exclaimed, “Dad! Look at that sand dollar! It’s as big as a pancake!” I looked down and there were hundreds upon hundreds of sand dollars – some as small as a poker chip and some, yes, as large as a pancake. My son said, “Let’s dive down to them.”
Now if you know anything about me you will know that I have an irrational fear of deep water. I prefer to go no deeper than my knees, my waist at most. I like boats, kayaks, and paddleboards for the pure fact that they provide a barrier between me and things that can eat me. I’m more likely to get struck by lightning than be bitten by a shark, but I still panic when my head can’t stay above water without my feet on the ground. On our honeymoon my wife took me snorkeling in, literally, the most beautiful spot in the world. It was the first and only panic attack I’ve ever had in my life. Like I said – my fear is irrational.
And now here was my son asking me to dive down 15 feet in the open water – mere yards from where we saw a shark as big as me the day before. No air tanks. No spears. No cage. Just open water, the two of us, and hungry, hungry sharks lurking in the deep. I was torn.
On one hand was my personal fear. It has proved limiting to life in my past, but it was something I had grown accustomed to and found ways to manage. It is not my favorite quality for myself, but I have come to accept it and I never try to change it. It doesn’t make me a bad person or even a bad parent. In some situations it could probably be a praiseworthy attribute of safety and self-preservation.
On the other hand, I was so proud of my son who in the past several days had become a young man right in front of my eyes. His sense of adventure and self-confidence had grown exponentially in such a short time. Did I really want to limit that?
I thought about telling him to go for it alone and I’d keep an eye out for sharks. In the end that didn’t seem honorable. So yes – I jumped in. I dove down. I swam along the bottom of the sandbar with my son. I may have peed my pants a little.
Most importantly… I survived. I even kind of enjoyed it.
It’s been almost a month since that trip and my son still talks about that day. He tells random strangers that he swam with sharks and saw sand dollars as big as his head. He is even requesting scuba lessons for his next birthday. Not only that, I see that same self-confidence at work now that he has started a new school year with new peers and a new teacher. It’s almost like he can handle anything because he did that.
I know that for most people diving on a sandbar is probably not that big of a deal – kid stuff. But that one simple dive made a bigger impact on my son than I could ever imagine.
I can’t help but think: What if I said no to him that day?
As parents, we all want good things for our children. We want them to do their best, to be successful, to make wise decisions, be kind, keep the right friends, follow Christ, give back to the community, be involved in church, and the list goes on. But are we willing to go first? How can we desire things for our children that we are not willing to pursue for ourselves? We shouldn’t let our own fears and comfort zones limit our children’s lives.
So, parents, I issue the challenge to you: get out of the boat, dive into the deep stuff. You will have to sacrifice. It will cost you time and money. It will be difficult. I may even be uncomfortable. But your children will follow… and one day they will go deeper than you could ever imagine.
Here are 3 things I think every parent should be involved in for the sake of their children:
2. A Small Group/Bible Study
3. Community Service/Missions
So get out of the boat, Mom and Dad. The water is beautiful.
Filed under: God, life, parenting, relationships | Tags: anxiety, david herndon, Easter, fear, God, illness, jesus, john 16:33, phillipians 4, prayer, sickness, worry
I awoke suddenly to the incessant beeping of the IV machine, letting the entire hall know that it was time to change the bag. Luckily the patient did not wake up since by now I knew how to work the buttons better than the PM nurse. I settled back into the plastic covered recliner that was my bed and tried to go back to sleep, knowing that in 90 minutes I would be up again, helping take vitals with the nurse. I was exhausted, but sleep did not come easy.
I was worried. I was anxious.
This was my life for most of last week. My son woke up one morning with a stomach ache. A doctor’s visit, a hospital stay, and then a transfer to another hospital. It could be appendicitis. I could be colitis. It could be a parasite. “We’ll have to run tests to be sure.” Tests meant drawing blood, among other things. Lots of pricking and prodding tended to weary the patience of the strongest 6 year old I know. Doctors, nurses, needles, oh my. He was scared. So was I. My son was sick and I didn’t know what was wrong or how to fix it.
So in the early hours of the morning I sat in my plastic recliner and prayed. Then God reminded me of this scripture:
“Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God (Philippians 4:6).”
I get it. I’ve heard like a million Christian talks on how “worry is the opposite of faith,” and how “worry is a sign that we are trying to control God,” and blah, blah, blah. I know that I shouldn’t worry about making a good impression on the new neighbors. I know that I shouldn’t worry about that red light when I’m already running late. I shouldn’t worry about affording to pay for one more Disney trip. That’s first world problems. That’s the small stuff. That’s not what I’m talking about.
I’m talking about the big stuff. What if I can’t afford to pay for all three of my children to go to college? What if my daughter gets pregnant as teen? What if one of my sons gets a girl pregnant? What if one of my children becomes a drug addict? What if I get cancer? What if one of my children gets cancer? What if my wife gets cancer? What if its not appendicitis or a stomach bug? What if its something worse?
When you love someone as much as a parent loves a child or a husband loves a wife… how do you not worry?
When tragedy strikes and your whole world turns upside down… how are you supposed to be thankful?
Abraham worried about fulfilling God’s call so he had a child with a woman who wasn’t his wife. Noah worried about finding land after the flood, so he kept sending birds to their deaths as they flew across endless water. Gideon worried about battle so he often tested and challenged God. Paul writes in Philippians 4 the famous “do not worry” passage, but just 2 chapters before he talks about his own anxiety concerning one of his disciples, Epaphroditus. And even Jesus, the night before his death, sweated blood as he prayed, “If there is another way, let this cup pass from me.” The bible doesn’t really give instructions on how not to worry.
I hashed this out with God, the beeping IV machine, and the plastic recliner all night. As I watched my son sleep I couldn’t help but think that my love for him is but a fraction of God’s love for us. “I would give my life for his health,” I said. “So would I,” God replied, “and so I did.”
In John 16:33 Jesus says, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
This next sentence is difficult to write and perhaps more difficult to read.
God is not as concerned about our health and well-being and general comfort in life as we are. I’m not saying that He’s not concerned. Its just that the things we value most are not as valuable to Him. On the cross, Jesus could have died so that we would never experience illness or disease. He could have died so that we would never experience poverty or hunger. He could have died so that we would never experience injustice or hate.
But he didn’t die for those things.
Jesus died so that we would never have to experience separation from God.
God is most concerned with our relationship to Him. The only thing that ever threatened our relationship with God, and thus our eternity, is sin. Through the cross, Jesus took care of that problem. So we don’t have to worry about it anymore. We’re cured… if we want to be.
The truth is that any anxiety I feel is evidence of being more concerned with this life than the life to come.
I may or may not be able to afford three college educations. My children may or may not become drug addicts. My son may or may not have a parasite that makes his stomach hurt. God does not require us to have a college education in order to understand His love. God does not require us to be clean and sober in order to receive His grace. God does not require us to be healthy in order to live in His ways. God does not value us based on our checking account, our car title, or the title on our office door.
In the end none of that really matters because none of these things determine my relationship with God. None of these things determine my eternity.
I still worry, especially about my family. I probably always will. I don’t understand how to prevent anxiety anymore now than I did last week in the hospital. But I take great comfort in the fact that my eternity has nothing to do with my abilities (or lack thereof) or my wealth (or lack thereof) or my success (or lack thereof) or my health (or lack thereof).
My eternity has everything to do with Jesus’ victory over sin in His death and resurrection. I can be thankful for that. No matter what happens (or doesn’t happen) today, my sins are forgiven and my eternity is secure in Jesus Christ. Come illness, come trouble, come injustice, come hardship… nothing can take that away.
I can be thankful for that.
And that is one less thing to worry about.