“The Man I Wanted To Be Like”
A tribute to my dad.
by
Stephen R. Jones
I. My hero!
Isn’t it great how little boys idolize their fathers? When I was growing up there was nothing my dad couldn’t do. He was stronger and faster than anyone I knew. He seemed so big! He was a man’s man, always giving me something to aspire to. He could fix anything. Some of my earliest memories are me sitting on the fender of someone’s car while he tinkered under the hood. What little boy wouldn’t want to be like him - he shaved too! In fact, he had to shave a lot. He had the manliest beard around, achieving his five o’clock shadow shortly after lunch.
When other people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up my answer was always, “A Preacher!” Sometimes my answer might vary, such as when he took me to visit the fire station. Then I wanted to be a fireman, and a preacher on Sundays. Later I developed a fascination with big rigs. Then I wanted to be a truck driving preacher! Somehow, he always remained my idol. To be like him was the ultimate goal.
II. Roots are deep.
My dad was one of fifteen children. It is amazing how large families remain so close. He was raised on a farm, in a much different world than we live in now. Life was mostly about work for him. His father was much different than my father turned out to be. I didn’t know my grandfather well, he passed away when I was only seven years old. After his death, the family began opening up about the hardships they endured as children. Through it all, they remained close and loved each other unconditionally. Due to circumstances beyond his control, he had to quit school in the 8th grade. After a few years more on the family farm, he moved in with his sister in New York. Then bad news came. His youngest sister passed away at the young age of thirteen. Then the family was introduced to an evangelist named Bobby Jackson.
”For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach, except they be sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!” Romans 10:13-15
In the days my father grew up, for a young man to make a good start in life, he joined the military. In the years since, due to budget cuts, our military has been downsized, and it is not such a big deal to go into the military in order to get ahead. My dad joined the US Air Force and I am proud to call him a veteran. His job was working on jet engines. Like I said, he could fix anything. In the years between then and me, he worked as a heavy duty diesel mechanic, met my mom, got married, had my sister, committed his life to God, and answered the call to preach the gospel. He was preaching by the time I was born, so that is all I have ever known. When I was two, he did something that still impresses me to this day. He moved us all to Nashville, TN and enrolled in bible college. Four years later, he graduated with honors!
III. Standards.
Our family was not that much different from any other family. While I began idolizing my dad, eventually we began butting heads. Since my dad was always the preacher, everyone always seemed to expect me to be different, behave better, always be perfect. Those were traits I never really enjoyed people expecting of me. After all, I was no different than anyone else, right? When we clashed and I pointed that out, he would always say to me, “You are my son, not everyone else!” He would always use the word “standards”. “We have ‘standards’ in this family”, he would say. There are many definitions for the word “standards” in the dictionary. They range from military flags, military warships, defining characteristics of an organization, to goals to be achieved, etc. When my dad used the word, it usually referenced to some form of behavior that I had exhibited that he did not approve of. There were places we did not go, music we did not listen to, things we did not do, and things we did not wear. We did not go to the movies, listen to rock music, stay out late at night, or wear any clothing that showed too much skin. As you can imagine, these “standards” made life difficult for two young people he called his children. Through the years I have come to respect him for his firm upbringing. Recently, my wife and I were blessed with a little boy of our own, Timothy Ray. Things look much different in my new role.
“Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6
Standards, to my dad, were put in place to protect another trait that all parents want for their children, innocence. When our children are born, they possess something so precious, that once it is lost, it can never be regained. Movies through the years have gotten riskier and riskier. We all laugh at the comedies, follow the dramas, and love the violence. However, nothing ever shocks us anymore. My grandparents would roll over in their graves if they witnessed the trash we allow ourselves to watch and listen to everyday. During the 70’s and 80’s, it seemed all preachers declared war on rock music, and there were many arguments against it. My dad was no different. Believe me, at the time, I did not get it. Everyone listened to it and it made me feel like an outcast not to be like everyone else. I have to admit I still like some of the old classic rock, but when you think about it, why would I want to identify with what I listen to most of the time. I love my wife, with no desire to cheat. I don’t want to drink till I can’t see, and I am not inclined to violence. However, after listening to that kind of music for half a century, look at the outcome of our nation. Things that used to be unheard of are now common place. Innocence lost can never be regained. My dad loved me enough to try to protect me from what he knew I would regret someday. Regret is the end result of innocence lost.
“Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them.” Ecclesiastes 12:1
IV. Time Marches On.
As it happens with everyone that God blesses to remain here on earth, my dad has gotten older. His health has diminished, and his strength which I always admired so much has slipped. But his desire to serve the Lord has always remained the same. He is retired now, but still desires to do what God has called him to do, preach the gospel. I love watching him play with my little boy. I wonder if little Timmy will ever learn proper english, because my dad can lay on the baby talk thicker than anyone else I know. I pray that God gives him enough time for my children to learn how smart a man I have come to know him to be. Through the years, my dad has always been my best friend. I may have had other friends, but my dad has always been the one I go to when I need someone to just give me a little time. I love to go to Lowes with him, drive him to the doctor, and even just sit in the den with him and watch reruns of “The Rockford Files”. My hope and prayer is that I can endear myself to my children so they can say that when I am old. Looking at my little baby in the crib, I know that one thing I can do to make my dad most proud of me is to teach my boy all the things my dad tried to teach me all these years. Nothing matters in life except what is done for the Lord. Jobs can change, cars break down and get sold, people in our lives come and go, but we can’t take anything with us when we go. It is my goal to teach my children to love God as much as their grandfather mentored me to do. He dedicated his life to the ministry and never looked back. If I can teach them to do that then I will have honored my father.
“Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.” Exodus 20:12
