What Mom Said

Dad often took the role of the enforcer in the home in which I grew up. He was the back-up whenever mom had a tough time getting us boys in line. I dreaded the words, “Go wait in your room till your father comes home.” It meant a long wait with a dismal end. I wanted all disciplinary issues to be settled by mom, if possible. So at that point there would be groveling and promises. Perhaps, if we hadn’t pushed things too far, she would accept our questionable penance.

It was always best just to obey mom. She was, of course, wiser than we thought. And she was always on our side – she believed in us (she still does) and enduringly sought the best for us. My mother used to tell me, “You can do anything you want, if you put your mind to it.” She absolutely believed it. I didn’t know she really meant it; I thought it was just one of those things that parents are obligated to tell their children. I didn’t understand the wisdom she was trying to impart, the confidence she felt for us, her hopes for our future. I was just a kid, after all. But I soaked it in through her repetition and eventually it came to have meaning that shapes me.

It means, “I believe in you.” Whatever foolishness I may have gotten into; whatever failure, or even success I may have experienced, that was not going to define her complete vision for my life. There was more ahead: more achievement, more joy, more success, more inside that can be tapped for the future. Children need to hear that their mother believes in them.

It means, “Focus on what is important.” Put yourself to what is worth accomplishing in school, in friendships, in life. Move the distractions to the sidelines and the bleachers and let the important stuff keep your attention.

It means, “You get to choose whether or not the world around you is a better place.” It is optimism, soaked in reality. You make the difference whether good things happen; life doesn’t just happen to you. Sure some things will be beyond your control and sometimes you are just blindsided by circumstances, but even then, you can change things.

That's what mom meant when she said, "You can do anything you want, if you put your mind to it." Her words continue to shape my life. Thank for believing in us, mom. Your blessing makes a difference in the course of our lives.

Father's Day

The following stories were submitted by readers to the Houston Chronicle. (edited for length).

"Daddy saved me!"

A few years ago, my 3-year old daughter taught me how easily I could lose the precious title of father. Vacationing in northern Michigan, Casey and I headed to the boathouse with supplies for a picnic. As I entered the boathouse, right behind my daughter, I saw her fall into the dark water between the boat and the dock. Immediately I dropped the supplies and fell to the dock, reaching into the murk to pull her out. To my horror, she was not there. I rolled into the water, pushing the boat away as I fell. I searched the green water for Casey for what seemed minutes until I finally spotted her under the hull, suspended motionless in the water like a large doll, her eyes staring widely at me.

Grabbing her, I pushed her to the surface, when, to my relief, she let loose a scream of fear and anger. Gently, I then lifted her onto the dock. Unfortunately, the weight of my wet clothes prevented me from climbing onto the dock myself. I instructed my still-crying child to go get Mommy. She took off for the house crying but repeatedly yelling almost triumphantly, "Daddy saved me!"

My deep appreciation for the privilege of being a father was set in place for the rest of my life.
- Dr. Ken Grier, Spring, Texas


My Hero

From taking the training wheels off my bike, to letting me off punishment a couple days early, to putting me through college, my Dad is truly a hero.

He has never once "not had time" for my brother and I. For 21 years he has made sure we were provided for, and not just financially. He insisted that my brother and I attend college, only it was never a fight because all through our lives he has shown us what it takes to succeed so my brother and I always knew that we'd go to college.

I catch myself thinking sometimes that his friends must think my Dad is pretty great to be putting both his kids through college and then I think, many parents never get the chance. My dad has always said that he wants my brother and me to succeed even more than he did. For 21 years he has not once let my brother or I down, so we won't let him down either. Our father is truly a hero.
- Carrie and Richie Vincent


I received a phone call the other day from a wonderful person who reminded me that not everyone has memories of wonderful fathers. My friend had a good point, that on occassions such as Mother's Day and Father's Day, those who lived with ungodly/abusive/negligent/absent parents may relive their pain all over again, especially when at their place of refuge, their church family, they are inundated with words and symbols of fathers and mothers and seemingly everyone around had only good to say.

What do you think...How should we help those who hurt on Father's/Mother's Day?


Don Morrison

more stories can be found at this link http://www.chron.com/content/interactive/special/holidays/97/dad/stories/

Moms Can Do That

Of course she gave me life, yet it is difficult to imagine my mother carrying me. King David imagined himself being knit together in his mother’s womb by the wonder of God’s creative power. My mother had just turned twenty-three a month before giving birth to yours truly, having already given birth to my older brother . When I turned 23, I was looking forward to graduation and marrying Donna – I had not yet found my first ministry. I was only beginning to learn about life and responsibility at the age when mom was already raising 2 children. But it’s not how young she was that makes her special to me, it’s how she loved me and cared for me – and still does.

Mom’s get away with things most of us would never allow anyone else to think about. Mom would take a tissue out of her purse and wet it to wipe some smudge from my childish face. Not many people could do that, but mom could. She could tell her friends some embarrassing story on me while sitting around the kitchen table. Of course I would be self-conscious, but who can stop a mother from telling stories on her children? Mom’s can make you hug them when you’re in front of your teenage friends – and while they have their arms around you, they’ll place a wet kiss on your cheek and give you all sorts of motherly instructions (for which your teenaged friends are certainly grateful) like, don’t drive too fast, or stay out too late, or go to some place not pre-approved by mom.

I truly felt ashamed of those expressions of love. They seemed so juvenile, when I felt so grown-up. But now, when I see some young mother tenderly loving her unhappy and unappreciative child, I often think of how my own mother cherished me when I was the squirming, complaining, unhappy one. I knew I was loved, but I didn’t see it up close in those moments.

Maybe that’s a little like Peter saying to Jesus, You’re not going to wash my feet! To which Jesus replied, “If I don’t wash you, you have no part with me.” Mom would have said, “Get over here; I’m your mother.”

Thank you, Mom. And thank you, God, for moms.

(I realize that not everyone has a mom worthy of honor, but I must honor my own.)

I used to preach for a church in a small town in Texas. We moved there from Florida when my son was 11 years old and my daughters were 6 and 2. Now, I love Texas - I was born and raised here in the Lone Star State - but my son was completely comfortable in his setting back in Florida. He loved swimming, church youth group, our neighborhood and most elements of his life. On the other hand, he knew nothing about cows and ranching, football, or hunting - all of which pretty much defined life in his new "home" in small town Texas. He hated me for that move; for taking him out of his good life and landing him into another.

Every day when my son went to school, he was picked on. The kids from church picked on him just like the community kids. The kids in our neighborhood picked on him. Every day, there was no respite for this 11 year-old boy, because he didn't look and act like everyone else, or understand ranch work, or shoot animals.

When he came home from school each day I asked how things went. He would say everything was okay. He said this because he was mad at me and didn't want to forgive me for bringing him to that place. He wanted to be independent of me - be his own person - handle things on his own. But every day the pain of rejection by his classmates would burn and the weight of emotional independence is too great for those circumstances.

The school administration was aware that my son was being picked on, but did nothing to control it. No correction of the offenders; after all boys will be boys - whatever that might mean.

I won't go into detail about how things ended up other than to say that my son was involved in an ordeal that was blown out of proportion and he bore his punishment in a respectable manner. I am proud of him for the humility he learned and for the way he protected others who were involved in the circumstances. And his bravery in returning to that school setting later.

The school administration decided how to handle my son's circumstances based upon popular response to what had happened, rather than upon common sense. They protected their own tails rather than protecting the child. This was not commonly known, because we (the school administration, the local authorities, my son, and myself) decided not to punish others who, along with my son, were innocently involved in childish expression.

When the superintendant (a good friend) spoke with me about my son's punishment, I asked him what would happen to the other children. He said, he didn't know yet what to do. I told him to do nothing; they didn't deserve it. All the children, including my son, were innocent of wrongdoing and since everyone believed my son acted alone there was no reason to bring embarassment or injustice on others as well. But I also told him that in doing nothing to the others he was acknowledging that my son was being treated unfairly, since the administrations' actions could only be construed as self-protection rather than a just and equitable distribution of blame. He agreed.

Next to my son's wellbeing, my biggest concern through all this was my church. I did not want this to make the church look bad. I am sure that it must have tainted my ministry while I was there, but my church leaders were very supportive through it all. I offered to resign and leave at the time, but they decided to stand with me.

I am happy that my son is doing well in college. We tease him sometimes about what happened and he laughs about it. But it is still real to him, sometimes it makes him more aware of others perceptions, or - in less mature moments - makes him care less.

What is sad is that the children who precipitated the entire event and their parents appear to have learned nothing. They still slander my son. They may never know that he was not the person they think he was, and that he protected others by bearing the whole thing himself.