Category Archives: Fathers and Sons

Key, Pa!

In the dialect of Ari, my three-year old grandson, “Key” is “Thank you.” I have no idea why, but Ari’s gratitude is often expressed with a sweet, “Key, Pa!” How much quiet joy his “Key, Pa!” gives me has been … Continue reading

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Still a Long Way Off

This phrase from Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son pierced my heart with hope. We are told in Luke 15:20, “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him, and felt compassion for him, and ran … Continue reading

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Chastch Me!

With eyes lit up and curly hair flying wild, my grandson, Ari, will often say, “Papa, chase me!” He is three, so it actual sounds more like “chastch me”—a combination of chase and catch. So around the kitchen table and … Continue reading

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Dear Sons, In Case You Missed It

We are saved by grace. Yes, I know, you have all heard this. One of you even sang, “Amazing Grace” at Grandma’s funeral. Nonetheless, we all need to hear this again and again—sometimes in new ways. Sadly, much of church … Continue reading

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He Came to Himself

In a hot mess of inarticulate father-love, I sputtered, “But you love Jesus!” My son had been explaining how he wasn’t sure he was still a Christian. I had been challenging him to return to Jesus. My declaration felt pathetic. … Continue reading

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When the Light Goes Out

Few things are sadder than seeing the light of God’s Spirit go out in the eyes of your child. The moment it happens is easy to miss. There are natural rhythms of wandering and return in the lives of most … Continue reading

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Peter, Jesus, and Church Kids

The story of Peter and Jesus breaks my heart and gives me hope. Peter, like a lot of church kids, was full of promise. Jesus spoke a prophetic word over him, proclaiming that he would become a fisher of men. … Continue reading

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Forever Swallows Every Never

Maybe no word has more power to crush us than “never”.  It can slide into our lives at almost any age. The hearts of parents break when they watch kids realize they will never be a great athlete—never play for … Continue reading

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Common Grace: My Dad, Harry James, and All That Jazz

My dad loved jazz. Growing up, I never thought this strange even though in those righteous days Nazarenes didn’t smoke, drink, attend dances, or go to movies. It seemed there were more things we didn’t than did. Jazz, of course, … Continue reading

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Moths and a Curious Gift

A full bladder when one is camping in a tent a long walk from the bathroom is never welcome. It meant a roll and wallow to get out of the sleeping bag and slip on sandals and then a hunt … Continue reading

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