Introduction

Riches won’t help on the Day of Judgment, but right living can save you from death. Proverbs 11:4

We are enamored with heroes. It seems that we vault anyone to hero status if there is any act or position that warrants such delineation. We make sports figures, actors, or other icons of entertainment into heroes even if their actions or core beliefs prove otherwise. We rightfully declare soldiers, policemen, firefighters, and other emergency service providers as heroes. To most of us our first heroes are our teachers. I can still remember the “Boston” accent of my first- grade teacher. We are a people who long for a model of self-sacrifice, devotion, supernatural performance, or anything out of the ordinary. We are a culture of faster, more powerful, and able to leap tall buildings kind of stuff. We are looking for heroes. I am one of you. I too look for heroes. Unlike most, I have found one. He was not a typical hero but one of humble and quiet character. While he was alive, if you were to spot him in the grocery store, in a mall, or in a physician’s waiting room you would not see the hero inside. You would not find him flying through the skies, stopping a speeding train, or changing into his cape in a phone booth (like there are still phone booths!). But make no mistake, he was a hero. His life left a positive mark on me and countless others. He was my father, and he was a hero. This book is not only about him, but it is also about you. I believe that we can learn lessons from a hero’s life and apply them to our own. Over the next few pages you will discover simple truths that shape a hero’s life and, hopefully, discover the hero within you. As you read, take a look at your life. Looking at your life might be scary, but an unexamined life is really scary! What adjustments do you need to make? What hurts, habits, or hang-ups need to be healed, stopped, or overcome? Remember it is not how you start that matters, it’s how you finish. No matter where you are in your life journey, you can make decisions about your life today that will change your destination. Every decision becomes a destination because each one sets into motion actions that propel your future. I don’t think my father said to himself one day, “I’ll be a hero.” I think the decisions he made, one at a time, and the actions he chose based on those decisions shaped his life. Because my father belonged to Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit guided him. The same God who guided my father will guide you. My dad would tell you the greatest decision you can make is to follow the Lord. I believe that God has placed a hero in you, and that hero is longing to come out. Most of us go through life without ever knowing why we exist or our purpose for living. We long to be happy, but we are not sure what happiness is or how to achieve it. If we look for happiness in prestige, possessions, or pleasure we are disappointed. A task or vocation will never bring happiness nor will a collection of things. What brings happiness is finding God’s purpose for our lives. You have been placed on earth in a specific time and place to make a difference. That difference is always in relation to people. Relationships make life rich. God has placed you here to invest your life in others. Jesus said, “Love God, love people.” Love for God is always expressed in actions of love toward people. I am blessed to have lived in the presence of a hero. Mark Twain said that when he was fifteen he saw his father as the most ignorant man alive. Then, at twenty-one, he saw that his dad was actually the most brilliant man alive. He claimed that it was amazing what his father had learned in those six years. But it can be difficult for children to see the value in their parents in youth. I am far older than twenty-one, and I am still discovering what my father learned in all his years. As I write this, I am looking back over the eighty-eight years, eleven months, and twenty-two days my dad lived. His life was full of adventure and hardship, excitement of youth and the challenges of aging, great joy and great sorrow, leadership and learning. He was and is my hero, and I am honored to share the lessons I have learned from his life.

Chapter One

Heroes Tell Their Story

I will not die; instead, I will live to tell what the LORD has done. Psalm 118:17

One of the great traditions of the South is storytelling. As a southerner, part of my father’s culture was storytelling. As a child, I would sit and listen while my father and his brothers retold stories from their youth. These stories got bigger and better every time they were told. They were often epic tales of youthful adventures or mischief that would entertain and inspire me. At times, these stories were about tragedy and heartache. In all of them, there were truths and lessons. If my father’s stories were never told, I would have never discovered how a hero is made. I am sure my dad never thought that his stories would leave such an impression on my life. I believe that he shared his tales out of sheer joy. When he and my uncles were together there was much laughter and fun. Mostly they told stories. My dad and his family grew up in terrible poverty but they never knew it. My Uncle Louie says, “We were raised in the bliss of utter ignorance.” Looking at their childhood, he was right. Lenton Velpoe Weatherford, my dad, grew up in the great depression. This was a very difficult time to be a child, especially a child raised on a farm in Mississippi. Mississippi was historically a poor state, but no one knew they were poor because everyone around them lived the same way. It’s hard to know that you’re poor without a comparison. They wore hand-me-down clothes and had one pair of shoes each. They ate what they grew and raised. They ground their own cornmeal, milked their own cows, and slaughtered their own chickens and pigs. They only bought flour, sugar, and coffee. My grandfather, Henry Hoyt Weatherford, was a sharecropper. That meant he farmed land he didn’t own and gave a portion of his profits to the owner. He married Maudie Belle Johnson and they started a family. She had a way of turning the little food that they had into gourmet meals. She had great ingenuity to make the best of what they had. They never owned much and struggled most of their lives. I remember going to their house and it really being a shack. It was clean but had no bathroom, running water, or electricity. We had to use the outhouse, and we took baths in the kitchen. The house had one level and four rooms: a living and kitchen area, a main bedroom, and two little, closet-sized bedrooms. As the family grew, the kids slept on floors or all together in little beds. No one had their own room or a closet, not that anyone had enough clothes to put in one. They lived and farmed on two hundred acres. There was a 2,000 square- foot house in the middle of the yard that they could have lived in, but my grandmother wanted to live by the road so she could see people coming and going. They lived in the small house by the road for close to thirty years. In the late sixties they finally put in a bathroom, which they installed without a septic system. They simply ran a pipe from the bathroom to the ditch. When we were kids we would entertain ourselves by chasing the sewage through the pipe to watch it expel into the ditch. Now that’s entertainment! I loved my grandparents even though I was a little afraid of my grandpa. He had one eye. I don’t think it was the eye thing that bothered me. It was just that I didn’t know him very well. Every time I went to visit he would sleep in his chair and not say much. After his death we discovered that he had only one functioning kidney. That explained his sleeping. I know from stories told that he was a good man who loved the Lord and his family, but he worked really hard. Grandpa lost his eye at seven. In the south, people either grew cotton or tobacco for a cash crop. My grandfather grew cotton, and when it came time to harvest, it didn’t matter how old you were, you were picking cotton. They would walk through the fields with a pouch around their shoulders and once it was full they would dump it into a bigger wooden box, called a cotton box. Originally I was told that he lost his eye because he was doing flips in the cotton field and hit his eye on the corner of a cotton box. As an adult I learned the truth. He and his brother were picking cotton together and goofing off. His brother chunked a rock and hit him in the eye. He was never taken to the doctor and it was left to heal on its own. As he got older he never wore a patch leaving an empty eye socket for all to see. My sister loved him, but he always scared me a little. I don’t know why the truth was not revealed earlier. I think that is part of southern culture. It seems we southerners are really good at covering family secrets. When you don’t have anything, all you have is your name, so it was really important to keep up appearances. Ironically all the secrecy did was create insecurity and further dysfunction. My grandfather’s funeral was the first I had ever attended, and it was the first time I ever wore a tie. I was a pallbearer and at thirteen that experience left a great impression on my life. He died suddenly and no one was prepared. We didn’t have enough money to cover the costs of a funeral and it caused a lot of tension and strain in my family. I had also never seen a dead body before so having to participate in carrying it left an eerie feeling in my stomach. I had also never seen my dad grieve so intensely. It was the first time I saw my dad cry and that really bothered me. I didn’t know how to handle seeing this man, who was supposed to be my rock, breaking. I felt sorry for him and it was unsettling. But it showed me how much my dad loved him and that I needed to love him as well. Because we lived in Florida and my grandparents lived in Mississippi, I didn’t have much time with them. But it was from the stories of my relatives that I have discovered much about my grandfather. My grandfather was a great man who loved his family deeply. He was outgoing and a man of integrity. He taught bible study at the local Baptist church and took that assignment very seriously. My father said that paw paw was a scholar and because of the sheer brilliance of my dad his opinion about my grandfather carried a lot of weight. My dad had a photographic memory, was well read, was an educator, held advanced degrees, and studied art and literature, not to mention had plain out common sense and a gut-felt ability for leadership. My dad was wise, so when he said something, I believed it. What I couldn’t see from experiences with grandfather, I believed because my dad said it. My grandmother was outgoing and fun. She was a great cook and loved having people in her home. She never met a stranger and had a deep devotion to the Lord. My dad loved to tell stories about going to church with his mother. She was a part of the Pentecostal Movement; in those days you got your entertainment any way you could. On any given Sunday there would be testifying, speaking in tongues, rolling on the floors, and dancing in the aisles. One Sunday my dad caught a possum and stuck it in the rafters. When the preacher noticed he yelled out in his sermon “Oh, what a rat!” as if God had placed it there himself. My grandpa didn’t like grandma’s church. He thought it was ridiculous. In her spiritual tradition the stories of God’s movement were as powerful as a sermon, and from time to time she would share her stories. My grandpa didn’t like it when she would feel compelled to testify, especially when it was about him. She shared once about how wonderful a husband she had because he put a spring in her seat in the car so she wouldn’t get too jostled on the ride. My grandpa didn’t like that because he didn’t want people knowing his business and because anything could create gossip. My dad said he loved to tell grandpa when grandma had shared. It would always benefit my dad to tell him when they were working because my grandpa would get mad and storm off to the house to confront my grandma. With grandpa gone dad could take a break from work and go fishing. Dad had it hard growing up, but he didn’t let his circumstances define him. He has told so many stories of the hardships of his childhood. He plowed cotton from the age of six until he went away to college. He plowed two mules, Ike and Mike. He said there is nothing like looking at the backside of a mule all day to make a man want to better his life. He wasn’t very big when he was six, but necessity conquered the barriers of stature and strength. It was just something he had to do. Dad was the oldest of eight children and was often responsible for caring for the younger ones. He had three brothers: Murray, Louie, and Billy. Murray was the most like my dad. He was always full of fun and laughter. He was a fighter; he fought everybody and loved to talk about it, but he had the strength to back it up. When he was seven he was hanging out in a medal framed ticket booth outside of the high school during a thunderstorm. My dad, who was about sixteen at the time, was playing basketball in the school gym when someone ran in and told him that his brother had been struck by lightening. He rushed out and saw him lying on the ground. He performed CPR and revived him. He carried him home where Murray lay in bed for three days before waking up and as Murray claimed, before anyone noticed. “You had to be tough growing up in Neshoba County Mississippi,” Uncle Murray always said. This experience made him and my dad very close. Uncle Murray was a self-made man. He was an entrepreneur, always looking for ways to make money. He sold anything from custom upholstery to pecans. He was married to Francis who was an executive at the bank. They didn’t have a lot but ingenuity and hard work. I always loved going to their house. Aunt Francis had the gift of hospitality. They were gracious and their home felt like an extension of mine. Uncle Murray was always a joker. I remember him telling us children that his pecan trees grew better and produced more fruit if children played under them. I realize now he just wanted us out of the house. Uncle Louie was eleven or twleve years younger than my dad and dad was gone from home while Louie was growing up, so they didn’t have much childhood bonding. They did become very close in adulthood, though. Him and his wife, Nadine, lived close to us while I was growing up. I loved Uncle Louie and Aunt Nadine. Having them close was comforting to me as a child; it was just good to have family nearby. Uncle Louie was very smart and worked several years for the government as a math specialist. Because he was so smart I never knew when he was joking or serious. Every time I saw him he would ask me, “How much do you weigh?” I never knew how to answer him. Later, as a young adult, he would ask me, “How much do you weigh, and how much money do you make?” Once again, I never knew how to answer him. If he failed to ask those questions, though, then I knew he wasn’t up to speed. My children joke that Uncle Louie asks them the same questions! Then there was Billy. He was the youngest and the most outgoing. Billy was a natural-born salesman and made a good living in various sales jobs. He and his wife, Lee, had seven children. When they came for a visit it was full of excitement! Their family always brought joy and when Uncle Billy came the storytelling was rich and elaborate. I think I learned the art of storytelling listening to my dad and his brothers. One of Uncle Billy and Aunt Lee’s visits stands out in my mind. They came to see us one summer and brought their pop-up travel trailer. My dad suggested that the boys, my two brothers, Uncle Billy’s two boys, and me sleep in the pop-up trailer. I grew up in Northwest Florida so summer was hot and humid; therefore, sleeping in a non-air-conditioned pop-up travel trailer was a version of inhumane treatment. Throw in their dog, T. J., and well, you get the picture. My dad had four sisters: Mildred, Bonnie, Dwanda, and Patsy. He loved his sisters deeply and tried to stay close to them throughout the years. Mildred was born after my dad. She was a tenderhearted person and moved from Mississippi to Texas after she married. I didn’t know her well nor did I know her family. I have first cousins that I have never met from Mildred and her husband, George. One of the stories that my dad would tell about Mildred is something that I like to call “Mildred and the Watermelon Patch.” My dad’s family had a big watermelon patch in their yard that grew watermelons mostly for consumption. In the south, Watermelon was the central dessert in their season and a great treat. Some would grow to twenty or thirty pounds. When Mildred was around seven years old she was somewhat nutritionally enhanced. She really liked watermelons. One day my grandpa went to the watermelon patch only to discover that the whole patch had rotted. He couldn’t figure out why this could be. Whether she confessed or more likely that my dad ratted her, I can’t say, but when my grandpa turned the watermelons over he saw that each one had a hole cut out of it. Mildred thought that to find the ripest one, she should look inside of each one and to do so had a cut a hole in every watermelon. Mildred got in big trouble. Dad loved that story! Next was Bonnie. She was two years younger than Mildred and a beautiful redhead. But her life was cut short. When my Uncle Louie was twelve he discovered her after she had drank boric acid. Her pain lasted a week as it slowly killed her. She died a slow and painful death. It was a great tragedy, but the family covered it up for many years, and the truth wasn’t revealed until after the passing of my grandparents and even then only in hushed tones. It happened during World War II. She was eighteen, and it was speculated that it was because she was in love with a man in the military who she was either engaged or married to. My grandfather didn’t approve, and when she wanted to go to war and be with the man she loved, he wouldn’t allow it. It has also been speculated that it was because the man wrote to her and broke up with her. Her death had an especially traumatizing effect on Uncle Louie, but as a result he gave his life to Christ. My dad had been overseas fighting in the war when it happened. He did not learn of her passing until a month later through v- mail, and it was very hard on him. He recalled receiving the news and grieving in solitude on a London air base. He grieved for her his whole life. My paw paw was broken-hearted by all of this. It was a very difficult season with two boys overseas fighting and the death of a child. From the stories told, he felt responsible as most parents do in this type of tragedy. But because he was a man of great faith he leveraged his pain to lead the other children to the Lord. I admire him for this. My paw paw was a hero. Dwanda is smart, driven, and compassionate. She married Lamar who was a professor. He had a PhD in agriculture. I was always amazed by these two and loved being with them and their family. Dwanda admired my dad and was so very expressive with her devotion; she was always quick to give him praise. She looked up to him because of his intellect and his abilities. My dad had the ability to make everyone feel like they were special or important. They were both very educated, bright, and sophisticated people, so much unlike what they had grown up in. They had the bond that they had both broken free. Dwanda and Lamar had three kids and their family was the most like my family; we had the most in common. It was comfortable being around them. Eventually, however, we lost all contact with them. Last there is Patsy. Patsy was filled with hope, joy, and love. Growing up we were close to her and her family. She died in a car accident several years ago when she was in her late fifties leaving two daughters and a hole in our hearts. Growing up with eight children was very difficult. As the oldest, my dad had to do without or make his own way. As stated earlier, he never let his circumstances define him. His character was defined through the fires of adversity. Among those adversities was his favorite Christmas story. He recounted that when he was six he received a toy train. This gift was very unusual, not as gifts go, but as to extravagance. It was a simple train given by his Aunt Maude out of her love and pity for her nephew. The typical Christmas gift in my father’s house was an orange and a stick of peppermint, so getting a toy train was a big deal. This train filled my dad with joy and excitement. “I never felt so proud,” he recalled. Later he left his train on a chair only to have his father sit on it leaving a broken train and a broken heart. As dad retold that story I felt sad and mad, but dad just laughed. He said, “You have stuff, it should never have you.” When you grow up with nothing, you learn that it’s people that matter. My Uncle Murray said that one year he got a horse but it got away. I didn’t realize that he was referring to someone leaving horse manure in his stocking until I was grown. My dad went to college on a basketball scholarship and was the first in his family to receive a postsecondary education. College was a challenge for my dad. He had a bright mind and was a gifted athlete, but the poverty of his family became a barrier. Because of limited resources, he was forced to return to his parent’s farm every weekend. If he stayed on campus, he would have nothing to eat due to the lack of food services and no money. So, my dad would hitchhike back to school every Sunday afternoon. His grandfather would give him twenty- five cents for the return trip, and with that money, my dad would buy a hamburger. He was always grateful for the money but more so for the love extended to him by his grandfather. Because of the generosity shared by his grandfather, dad learned to be a giver. His family never had much, but what they did have, they shared. Mostly, they just loved each other. Dad learned that it was relationships that made life rich!

My dad’s stories inspire me. I know that the same “stuff” that made him survive is also in me. It is not what happens TO us that shape us, it is what happens IN us. In the retelling of my dad’s stories about his childhood, there was never a sense of bitterness or entitlement. Often people will use the excuse of their childhood to lock them into an addiction or dysfunction. We are not responsible for the families we are born into, but we are responsible for our actions and reactions to the culture of our families. Childhood experiences shape our adult understanding, but as adults, we must break the cycles of dysfunction or extend the culture of goodness found in our families. Even when his father sat on his train, expected too much, or displayed other negative behaviors, my dad never allowed his adult reaction to be one of slander or complaint. He chose to understand his childhood from an adult perspective, therefore adjusting his character toward being functional. As an adult my father leveraged his childhood experiences and allowed them to serve as a motivation to provide for his children. I can recall many times my parents sacrificed to make our lives richer and better. Numerous occasions my parents did without in order to provide for their children. As an adult I have learned of the financial sacrifice for Christmas gifts for everyone but each other. My mother even convinced the whole family that she preferred chicken backs and necks knowing that her children would enjoy the fuller parts of the chicken. Their attitude of breaking family dysfunction and extending family goodness was intentional and rooted in a deep spiritual commitment. One trait my dad inherited from his dad was that if you left anything in a chair, he would sit on it. I never lost a train but many times I couldn’t find my jacket or my books. Dad was sitting on them! One of my favorite stories is from my dad’s time serving our country during World War II. He enlisted in the National Guard thinking that would keep him from active duty. It didn’t. His platoon was one of the first groups called into active duty. He was assigned to boot camp in Fort Polk, Louisiana. While in boot camp, he met Charlie Cook. They developed a friendship, which would change not only their lives but also my father’s destiny. My dad was a young man living the life of a young man, enjoying the rebellion of youth. Although he was raised going to church, he really hadn’t made any commitments to God or to living his life for God’s purposes. We can often become confused about what we attend as opposed to what we believe and live. So many people show up to church but they never allow Christ to show up in them. It is not what you show up to that matters it is what shows up in you! When a man goes to war, he begins to think of eternal things. God had a plan for my dad and His plan involved a man named Charlie Cook. Boot camp was about preparation for war. It was physically and mentally challenging. Deep friendships are often forged in a common hardship and such was Charlie’s and my father’s. Charlie was a strong Christian. He wasn’t just the church-going, legalistic kind of Christian, but the real deal, full of the love and compassion of God. He was also a great athlete and outdoorsman. God used these traits to forge their friendship. Charlie began to talk to my father about his eternal destiny. He did so in a casual, but intentional, way. He never let the differences of their commitments or lifestyle choices interfere with their relationship. Charlie knew that life without God doesn’t work, and he didn’t want his friend to miss out. Although my father never responded to Charlie’s invitation to accept Jesus, Charlie never gave up. He understood that people come to Jesus best on the arm of a trusted friend. Following boot camp, they both were transferred to England where my father was assigned as an aerial photographer and Charlie as a tail gunner in a bomber. One night Charlie came to my father and asked him a favor. Charlie explained that he had a mission in the morning and that he knew that he would not return. Charlie told my dad that the Lord had revealed to him that he would be killed, but not to worry, he was headed for Heaven and everything would be fine. He asked my dad to make sure his family got his things and to express his love and devotion to them. Then Charlie asked once more for my dad to give his life to Jesus. My dad told Charlie that he was just scared and that he would come home just fine. Charlie left and was killed the next morning. Charlie’s death shook my dad to the core. He kept thinking about Charlie and his persistent desire for my dad to commit to Christ. My dad began to recall lessons from his childhood and his parents’ love for God. One night a few months later, he knelt in the snow in a Belgian village and committed his life to Jesus Christ. My dad said that God became so real to him that night. The Lord promised to bring him home safely and use his life greatly. God kept his promise. My dad returned home and enrolled in Mississippi College where he received his degree in History. He played basketball and was the oldest on his team because of his years overseas. Before he left for the war he had a scholarship to play for Mississippi State University but the time away forfeited his opportunity. However, he soon made the starting rotation at Mississippi College and became captain of the team. Playing basketball was his passion. After college he began coaching, using that platform to build the lives of young men. He continued his education, receiving a Master’s degree from the University of Southern Mississippi in education and became a school principal. He devoted his life to educating children and was the forerunner in developing educational opportunities for the learning impaired. In the meantime, he married my mother and they had four children. But most importantly, he was a godly man. My father never made a commitment lightly. When he came to Christ, he came all the way. Every part of his life was about bringing honor and glory to the Lord. Many times you hear of men making a spiritual decision while at war and that decision is forgotten. My dad didn’t forget it; he devoted his life to it. My dad became a great man because a man named Charlie Cook never stopped telling him about Jesus. Charlie was not aware of all that God had planned for my dad. He was only being obedient. Through Charlie’s obedience God began a process of redemption that changed not only my dad’s life but also the lives of all my dad would touch. Charlie simply said, “Jesus, I am yours.” Jesus took him seriously.

As I look back on my life, I realize that because my dad became a Christian, my life is far different. I had a dad who loved me and was always involved in my life. When I was seven, I too made that same commitment to Christ. I remember praying and asking Jesus to come into my heart while I was sitting on my father’s knee. I remember the rebellion of my teenage years and my father’s reluctance to give up on me because he knew I belonged to Jesus. I went through a period of time when I could not stand to be around my dad. It hurts me now to even write these things. I believe that the guilt of my rebellion made me desire distance from my dad’s godly influence. But my dad never let up. He kept reaching out to me, loving me, and staying involved with me when lesser men would have walked away. I can still see his old blue Dodge pull up at baseball practice just to see how I was hitting. I started surfing when I was fourteen. My dad didn’t like that choice. In the seventies surfers were considered to be bums and potheads. I was neither. My dad just could not stand to have that image placed on me. He wanted me to be known as a godly man and surfing just didn’t fit the profile. A part of his concern was his generation’s overemphasis on keeping up appearances, but his real concern was that I was being influenced by the wrong folks. He didn’t realize that his influence was stronger on me than any others. There were times that I could have gone the wrong way but his pull always kept me safe. I still surf and my son with me. My dad never liked it but grew to tolerate it. He just didn’t understand why someone would want to go into a stormy ocean and ride waves. He was no longer worried about my image. I think he worried about my sanity! In 1978 I decided to attend Florida State University. I had some success in music and thought my career path should include a degree in music leading to a starring role singing opera. This was a big stretch for dad. I had grown up playing ball, surfing, and living the life of an athlete. Music and opera were not on his radar. He kept asking me to choose something else. I told him I could major in geology, minor in music, and become a “rock singer.” Even though he didn’t understand my dream, he encouraged me in it. As with any sport I played he insisted that I be the best. The day before I auditioned I was hit in the mouth by my surfboard resulting in seven stitches. My dad was so mad that he refused to take me to the hospital to have my lip repaired. My mom went with me. The next day, I sang four classical music pieces for the professors of one of the most demanding music schools in the country with seven stitches in my chin. My dad cooled off enough to go with me to my audition and rejoiced when I was accepted and relieved when I graduated. When I married my wife, Tara, my dad stood by me as my best man. When I felt God’s call to be a pastor, my dad was the first one I told. He was part of the group who ordained me. I can still feel his hands on my head and hear the sweet prayer for God to use my life that came from his lips. There is nothing more powerful than the prayers of a father over his children. Every move Tara and I made, my dad and mom were with us. Even though they were older, they stayed involved in our lives. They wanted to know where we were living and see the home we were making for our children. When I felt God’s calling to start a new church in Texas, my dad prayed with me and supported me as I stepped into the unknown. He was one of my biggest fans and encouragers as we have endeavored to create an environment for spiritual transformation. During the last years of my dad’s life I felt the call to come back home to be near him and start a new church in Tallahassee. He was very concerned about my decision. We had many a long conservation about leaving the comfort of a thriving mega church to start over. My dad knew I was leaving the security of a paycheck and the prestige of leading a large church. He was afraid for me and worried that I was making a bad decision. The last conservation I had with him was regarding the risk I had taken. He said, “Son, Tallahassee is a hard place and it needs a church like the one God has placed in your heart. I know God sends His best to the hard places.” These parting words have given me courage during the difficulties of this new church start. My dad poured his courage and confidence into me. I miss him so much. He loved to hear me speak but I think he enjoyed my singing more. I think it has something to do with the cost of an FSU education! My dad’s counsel and leadership were vital to me. My dad belonged to Jesus and that has made all the difference. Heroes share their God stories. We can often discount our stories of life change but they have a powerful influence especially in the lives of our children. My dad never let his commitment to God be in question. Even through the hardships of aging he held fast to his stories of God’s rescue and inspired his children, his friends, and even himself. I have encountered so many people who question their fathers’ spiritual condition because their dads never shared their stories. Because I knew about Charlie, about the snowy night in Belgium, the promise the Lord gave my dad, and so much more, I have a spiritual marker from my dad that breeds confidence and hope in me. My dad was a hero. There are so many more stories my father has shared that have shaped and inspired me. The last I will share with you is about my sister Judy. She is the only girl in our family and was, and always will be, my dad’s princess. She thought that dad loved his boys more, but we all knew better. There was a bond between them, which is only one that a daddy and his little girl can share. Judy was born premature and almost died. In 1953, a premature birth was very difficult, and the outcomes were often negative. Judy’s lungs had not fully developed, and she was not expected to live. She was born in Philadelphia, Mississippi but was rushed to a hospital in Meridian, Mississippi, so she could receive better care. Mom was recovering in Philadelphia while Judy was 40 miles away in Meridian. My dad drove back and forth to care for the two most precious girls in his life. My mom and dad were both devoted Christians, so they turned to the Lord during this very difficult time. They decided to fast and pray for Judy to be healed. For three long days and nights, my dad traveled and prayed. On the morning of the fourth day, he was headed back to check on my mom when in his heart he felt the Lord say, “Your little girl is going to be okay.” He looked at his watch and it was 10 o’clock. He felt such peace that he didn’t turn around and head back to Judy but went on to see my mom. He arrived at her room and asked if she wanted something to eat, thus breaking their fast. She said yes because she also knew that Judy was okay. My dad told her about the feeling from the Lord, and my mom said that she had experienced the same thing. My dad asked her at what time did she feel the peace, and she said, “Around ten o’clock.” After they had eaten, my dad returned to Judy. When he arrived, the doctor met him at the door and exclaimed, “Your little girl is going to be fine. Around ten o’clock, she coughed, clearing her lungs, and now is breathing on her own. You can take her home.” Judy was, and is, fine and is one of the greatest Christian women alive. When my father shared that story it always filled Judy with love and commitment, and filled his boys with the knowledge that nothing is too hard for God. We are given experiences, that when shared, will shape the faith and actions of those we love. Our experiences are treasures to share. God never wastes a hurt, and by sharing we uncover the great goodness of God. I have learned from my dad to disclose my life’s stories to my children and my friends. So I ask myself, “Is there a story to tell? Are there events that have shaped my life that are they worthy of repeating?” Maybe, if my life is only marked by selfish or sinful behavior, I ought to keep my mouth shut. So often we tell tales of bygone days that center around “stuff” that gives our children permission to follow our negative behavior. My dad never told stories of rebellion or addiction. I am sure those actions were a part of his past. He chose to protect me from them by not sharing. In teachable moments he would reveal a painful life lesson but it was never to glorify a dysfunction. We all have actions, attitudes, or sinful behaviors we are not proud of. Our past does not determine our future and God is the God of forgiveness. I must live intentionally. I must intentionally focus on being a blessing. I must share stories that build up and encourage a life toward God. I must live what I believe; therefore, I need to examine my life. An unexamined life is a dangerous life. I ask myself what I am doing and what I should be doing. It then becomes about self-leadership. I am responsible for me. God, in His grace, redeems my sordid past and uses those experiences for His glory. Most often our greatest misery becomes our greatest ministry. I want my children, my friends, and all my relationships to know about God and His mercy, so I must share my God stories not other stories that glorify sin or dysfunction. Heroes know that they don’t live for themselves. Heroes understand that their lives teach. Tell your stories, and let God use them to build lives. What if you have no story to tell? Then it is time to get one. You can begin your God story by trusting in Jesus Christ as Lord and savior. I know that sounds sweet and simple, but it is. God has been after you your whole life. If you take time you can trace His hand in your life story. God is not concerned about who you are, what you have done, or where you have been. He loves you and wants you to love Him back. Maybe there is a Charlie Cook in your life, a trusted friend who knows Jesus in a personal way. God has placed him there for you. Maybe your life is lacking meaning and purpose. You are feeling that because God wants to change things. The greatest decision you will ever make is trusting Jesus. I pray that you will do it now! How? Just ask! Like my dad did in the Belgian snow. Just ask. God will do the rest. Then share your story, that’s what heroes do! Chapter Two

Heroes Love Their Wives

Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last; but a woman who fears the LORD will be greatly praised. Proverbs 31:30

I have been an eyewitness to a great romance between my parents. I have heard their love story time and again, and with each retelling it grows dearer to me. My parents are soul mates and were married for almost fifty-eight years. I have learned how to love a woman by watching my dad. My dad spent the majority of his twenties serving his country in Europe, so he didn’t have the opportunity to find a wife during the period of life that you were supposed to do that in. It could be said that he got a late start, but not really. God had the right woman waiting for him. My mom is ten years younger than my dad was. He said that God had to grow her up before he could marry her. It is very obvious that their love was made in heaven. My dad always told me to be wise with women. He was never the one to get in my dating business but he did warn me about elicited relationships. He said God has the one waiting for you, wait for her! God blessed my dad with my mom as if it was his eternal plan for them to be together, which is evident in the story of their relationship. I took his advice because I could see the success in their marriage. My dad had always had movie star good looks. He was tall, some might even say statuesque in figure. He had dark wavy hair and eyes that could look deep into your soul. He had a gentle whimsical spirit that created in him an irresistible sense of charisma. He never lacked female attention. We teased my dad about his many girlfriends, and my mother seems to enjoy the fact that she is the one who landed him. The match may have seemed unlikely to some. My mom’s outward appearance did not completely match her beautiful spirit. She was petite and had terrible eyesight that forced her to wear glasses that consumed her face and made hers eyes the size of peanuts. Her eyes were so bad in fact that she had to have cataract surgery when she was seven. Without the advances in technology the surgery she had required that she lay still for a month after it. It got to the point where they had to put sandbags by her head so she wouldn’t move. Because of her eyesight, though, she was convinced she would never get married, that no one would be able to love a little blind girl like her. But even though my dad had many opportunities and options he waited for and chose my mom and gave his heart to only her. In 1949 my dad was coaching high school basketball in Linwood, Mississippi. He was thirty-one, single, and good-looking. One of his buddies was a principal in Bond, Mississippi, where my mom was teaching music. My dad’s buddy decided that my dad needed to meet my mom, so he set up a blind date. The only problem was that he didn’t tell her about it. One Sunday evening my dad arrived at my mom’s door and announced that he was there to take her out. My mom had no clue who he was or how it came about that he was standing on her doorstep wanting to take her out. Was it a gift from God perhaps? After a few awkward moments, my dad asked her if she wanted to go to church. Little did he know, but he couldn’t have said anything more perfect. My mom got ready and off they went. They drove to the nearest town and went to the evening service at the Methodist church, even though they were both Baptist. After going out for a hamburger, he kissed her. She was embarrassed because she wasn’t that kind of girl. But like my dad said, “You see a good thing and you just gotta take care o’ that.” From that time on, they were together. They saw each other every chance they could get. They dated for four weeks before my dad proposed and two weeks later, on December 23, 1949, they were married. Just like when he decided to kiss her for the first time, my dad knew that he had a good thing and had to take care of it. It was a period where there was a trend of rash marriages after the war, but this didn’t fit into that category, and it was still something most people would have considered to be quick. Their marriage ceremony was a simple affair at the local pastor’s home with four people in attendance including the pastor, his wife, and the best man and his wife. After the ceremony they left for their honeymooned in Panama Beach, Florida, with it’s beautiful white sand beaches. They didn’t have a plan, but that was the blueprint for their relationship to come. They never had a plan. Two weeks after the wedding they drove down to Liberty in Amite County, Mississippi for my dad to meet for the first time his new wife’s parents. Her parents, while also southerners, were among the more aristocratic and sophisticated, whereas, my dad’s parents were of the redneck variety. However, the aristocrats in that time didn’t have anything either, they just thought they were special. Her mom had made a pound cake for the occasion. My dad did what I suppose was a customary practice for the redneck type and smothered his cake with gravy. My grandma was appalled by this, and I’m sure she was thinking, “What kind of man did you marry.” My mom is a southern belle with all the proper charm and upbringing. She is a godly woman who is not just religious, but spiritual. When she “caught” my dad he had some rough edges, but she smoothed them right out. His rough edges consisted of a course language habit and a little bit of drinking. When they were first married they could only live together on weekends because they taught in separate towns and back then, when you taught at a school you were provided with a sort of house that was generally attached to the school, a sort of living quarters to make working at the school more appealing. One weekend when he came home to see her he had been drinking with some friends and when she smelt it on his breath she broke down crying. She yelled, “I cannot be married to a drunk!” That was enough for him to stop drinking. She smoothed those edges out with proper boundaries and a great security in who she was in Christ. She didn’t marry my dad to change him but she did help the Lord in refining his character. The Bible says that a man who finds a wife finds a good thing, and that is so true. My dad found a good wife! She was very committed to him, encouraging and supportive. She loved and adored him: they would hug and kiss and hold hands. Past the honeymoon phase these parts of a relationship tend to become less obvious to onlookers, but not with my parents. Over the years, they experienced a lot of life. They buried both of their parents, educated four children, welcomed five grandchildren, and one great grandchild, endured life-threatening illness, moved several times, changed jobs, and so much more. Through all of this they forged a relationship that was an example to all who knew and loved them. On September 10, 2007 my mom gently laid my dad into the arms of Jesus. My dad’s death marked the end of their earthly marriage, but it did not end their love. She joined him in heave three years later in heaven and their reunion was sweet and eternal.

My dad taught me that a hero romances his wife. Romance is a funny word. For most women romance is candlelight, soft music, candy, and sweet nothings. For most men it is sex. But romance is all of those things and much more. What I learned from my dad is that real romance is honor. The Bible says in the book of Romans, 12:10, “Out do one another in showing honor.” This means honor is an intentional act of placing high value on one another. Placing high value on another, specifically one’s spouse is a decision that leads to actions. We rarely do anything without a decision. The more intentional your decisions the more effective your actions. In other words, what you think on is what you become. Our thoughts shape our behaviors. My dad honored my mom by the way he treated her. I never heard him curse or criticize her. From time to time they would get into a spat, but he never let his attitude about her change. He was always thoughtful in how he expressed his feelings and used his words to encourage and build her up. My dad knew that my mom, like most women, needed to hear how valuable she was. He loved and respected her. He always placed her feelings at the center of all his decisions. They never did anything on which they were not in total agreement. If they did disagree, we children never knew it. I grew up in a home that was free from abusive language and actions. This decision on my parents’ part set me up for success in my marriage. We learn to be married watching our parents. I had a great example of honor. As I have led and learned, I also discovered that my parents did so many things right without proper training. During the early days of their marriage churches didn’t teach or support marriages through instruction. There were no pre-marital courses – like they would have had time to complete one in their two- week engagement anyway – or instruction at all from a church perspective. They learned to love each other through trial and commitment. Even though I grew up watching them and was given a great example of marriage I was far from perfect in my marriage. Several years ago I discovered a wonderful speaker and leader, Gary Smalley. Using his resources I have led small groups for couples in order to give them the proper direction in their relationships. I began leading these small groups out of my own need. Tara and I had been married for ten years when I asked her, “How many years have I been a good husband?” She replied, “Three!” Three out of ten! My ego was shot. I was a pastor, teacher, and had led seminars on relationships and now my wife gave me a three! Discovering Gary Smalley and his wonderful resources really helped me get back on the right track in my life, my marriage, and my ministry! God is always placing guides in your life. He is sending people to help you and expects you to help people. Gary Smalley poured his life and wisdom into me so I could share it with others. Tara and I have been married for over twenty-seven years and now, when I ask her how I am doing… she gives me glowing reports. Why, because I chose to learn. I also discovered that being married is not about me and my ego. Being married is about loving and honoring this wonderful woman God gave me as a mate. I have discovered that being married is about commitment. The first commitment is to the Lord then through Him to Tara. Marriage is a true convent relationship. I commit to God then to Tara. That level of commitment takes my devotion to a deeper level. If my commitment is only to Tara then I can walk away, but if it is to God first things take on a more serious note. God holds us together. A while back, I wrote this poem when I was inspired by the connection I found in loving Tara and loving God.

Beloved Behold my beloved, my bride She is graced with beauty and pride My heart is captured, my life is defined By my beloved, my beauty, my bride

The one who created me and calls me by name The same one who crafted this woman of fame He held her and shaped her to fit by my side He calls me to love her and walk in her stride

I’m called by my master to be more like Him Because He gave me this woman whose life I live in I’m powered and shaped by his loving hand For my beloved needs me to be God’s man

I give myself to this woman my bride For I find my life by her side By her, for her I’ll walk with my Lord Until time itself and life is no more

One day in glory we will walk hand in hand Because God loved us and revealed to us his eternal plan And in that fair land that is brighter than day You will still be my beloved for that is God’s way

If your example of being married is not so great then make the decision to find proper role models. Many people wait until they fail in marriage before discovering the keys to relationships. For many of you, your parents were far from ideal and your marital example was dysfunctional. God, in his wonderful plan, puts us into a family called the church to allow us to get the proper examples. If you don’t have a church family then find one. Make sure they place a high emphasis on marriage and relationships and hold God’s word as their guide. This emphasis on marriage can’t be done without having Jesus Christ at the center of all they do and are. They also must view the Bible as their guide. Don’t wait until you are in trouble to grow in your marriage relationships. Remember it is never too late for God to rescue you. Back to my dad! My dad also honored my mom by giving her domestic support. He supported her by helping do household chores. My mom worked outside the home, so my dad helped with daily tasks. I know my mom found that romantic. It was not uncommon for my dad to vacuum, cook, or do whatever else needed doing. In fact after he retired he took on most all domestic roles. There was no such thing as “woman’s work” in their home. Him doing these things was an act of service towards her. He did it to meet her at her point of need and not at his point. Often in relationships we will do things out of what we think someone needs or wants based on our own selfish views. True romanticism looks past all selfish desires to what will actually help the other person or make them happy. The ability to understand what those things are is true honor. The fact that my dad could identify what it would mean to her that he vacuumed or cooked dinner and didn’t hesitate to do it for her was real romance. My dad also supported my mom financially. He never hid money, and everything they had, they had together. He was never stingy nor did he demean her by doling out some allowance. When I was a child there were times that money was tight. One such time was in the late sixties. The teacher’s union went on strike and because both of my parents were educators they were without an income for six weeks. My parents never made much money; they didn’t have a nest egg, so six weeks without pay was a long time. That season left a big impression on me. All we had for food was a can of butter beans and a can of stewed tomatoes, so my mom made a butter bean casserole. They didn’t let it affect them or at least our view of them and our lives. They had complete confidence that God would provide. I heard my parents pray and ask God to help them. They had such confidence that even when all we had to eat was butter bean casserole they gave all they had – not all they could – to their church in spite of their lack of income. I learned from my parent’s faith that God was in control of money. Because of that season I have great confidence that God is in control. The lessons learned during that time have served me well and now these same lessons are teaching my family! As a child, I never really saw the inner workings of their relationship as far as romance goes. I know that money was always tight so romantic get-a ways or fancy nights on the town were not a part of their plan. I only saw the results of a wife who glowed in the love of her husband, and a husband who was respected by his wife. Now that’s romance! Most men are great romantics when dating. We know what to say and how to say it, we write poems, plan dates, stay up late, and talk about everything. When we marry, we stop. This is very confusing to women. They think that when we marry things just get better. They believe the romance that we men have crafted was just the beginning of a wonderful life of love and adventure. What women don’t know is that dating is almost like hunting to a man. We are out to win the heart and affections of our intended only to marry so we can settle down and stop all that romantic “stuff.” It is no wonder some women feel like a deer that has been shot and hung on the wall like a trophy. My dad intentionally kept the romance alive in their marriage through honor. To some men being romantic is not “manly.” So what! Heroes don’t worry about what others think. They take care of their wives. My dad also taught me about unconditional security. He never even considered life without my mom. His decision to be totally committed brought great stability to everyone in my family, but especially to her. She never doubted my dad’s long-haul commitment to their marriage. I never saw him flirt or act inappropriately with another woman. My dad was a principal, and he worked with mostly women. Remember, he had movie star good looks, but everyone knew he was off limits. My dad disciplined himself to be appropriate. He had made a commitment to God and my mom and kept it. This is an area men can be lax in. Because one of our biggest needs is sexual fulfillment, we can mistake sexual gratification for the real reward of sexual commitment in marriage. My dad warned me over and over about the temptations that elicit relationships bring and the destruction that follows. He said, “There is no such thing as casual sex.” He was right. I have learned to not even let my mind go down that elicited road. In God’s word Job stated, "I made a covenant with my eyes not to look with lust upon a young woman.” This is good advice for every man. If I can do this then I build security into my wife. Temptation is stopped before it begins. I watched my dad do this all his life. Unconditional security was a public and private commitment. He showed that commitment by being engaged with our family. We were his hobby. Even though my dad had a high-demand and high-stress job, he stayed connected. I know my mom felt secure when he was throwing baseballs with my brother and me or when he was helping us with homework. My dad was there, and he was committed. Not only did my dad honor and bring security to his marriage, he also connected with my mom spiritually. For most men, sharing their spiritual side with their wife is very difficult. To quote Mark Twain again, he says that when one marries he gains a witness to his life. This means that in marriage, we are observed at every angle. Our wives often know us better then we know ourselves. When it comes to spiritual things we think of biblical knowledge or religious ritual, but in marriage, spiritual connection is the intentional merger of your souls. You have a witness to your life. Remember, it is not what you show up to but what shows up in you! When my parents married, my mother was really further along with her spiritual life than my father. She grew up in a spiritually committed home. Her family was devoted to Christ. Her father was a wonderful Christian man, and her mother had a love and knowledge of the Bible that was impressive. As a child, we would visit my mother’s parents, and I remember lying in the bed at night listening to them quote Psalms 103 as was their practice every evening. They lived the love and compassion of Christ. They had a faith that was grounded in a personal relationship with Jesus. With that example, my mom entered into marriage. My dad, on the other hand, grew up in a good home, but it was very different than my mom’s. My dad’s family was Christian, but not as serious. I asked my dad once about his devotion, and he shared that he learned how to be a godly man from his father-in-law. Knowing my grandfather, I can see that to be true. He was an unbelievably godly man. He was well respected in his own community. He stood up against racism, and he helped the unkempt and unable. He had a love and kindness towards animals that could make people jealous. He seemed as though he knew each one personally and deeply. Every animal had a name. He raised foxhounds and treated them like his children. He never yelled at them; he whispered to them and they would listen. His wife, my grandmother, was a little crazy. When she was thirty-three she went to bed and never got out. She lived to be eighty years old, but for forty-seven years she did little more than cook the occasional meal for guests and watch television. She never meaningfully engaged in family life. But she was very intelligent and knew scripture like the back of her hand. Even through her disconnection, my grandpa never said a bad word about her. He dealt with her lack of engagement and picked up the household responsibilities that she left behind, without a single complaint. He was a gentle, kind spirit, who loved the Lord and a good example of how to respect your wife. My dad allowed his father-in-law to mentor him. In turn, my father has mentored me. We all need spiritual coaches. I witnessed my parents’ spiritual connection on several levels. They were connected in a local church. A person without a church family is a spiritual orphan. They were not casual about their connection; they were intentional. They were always together. My mom thought of my dad as her rescuer. They read scripture together. They served in the church according to their individual passion and giftedness. Both taught Bible study classes. My mom used her musical gifts and my dad his leadership gifts. I grew up going to and totally involved in the biblical community called the church. My mom and dad prayed together. They did their praying in private and in public as a couple. I have overheard the prayers of my parents several times. At times those prayers were about me and my teenage rebellion. I think they wanted me to overhear those prayers. Every night, I would lie in my bed and hear them reading God’s word and praying before they went to sleep. They were connected. They gave of their resources to God’s work. It was not uncommon for us children to know what my parents gave to the church. They gave even when things were tight, like the six weeks that we had no income. They set an example for us children that made givers of us all. But they also gave their children to the Lord. All four of us children are walking with God. My parents expected it. My sister, Judy, is a teacher who uses her influence to show the love of God. My oldest brother, David, is a history professor who uses his great knowledge to guide and shape young minds. My other brother, Stan, and I are pastors of churches. Even my parents’ grandchildren are Christ followers. Their spiritual connection has marked us all. My father has taught me that marriage is about being intentional. I must pursue my wife and connect with her on three levels; honor, security, and spiritual connectedness. It works. I watched my father who learned from his father-in-law, and I will pass this behavior to my children. Being married is not easy, and a hero does what it takes to make it work. My father’s commitment became more evident in the last years of his life. Several years ago my mom was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, which developed into Alzheimer’s. It is a degenerative disease that grows more debilitating over time. My dad did not coward from this difficultly. He was ten years older but was determined to outlive my mom in order to care for her. She was still the little blind girl, who he had loved despite the odds, and was not about the change that now. She needed him more than ever. The title of this book came as a result of my brother Stan declaring that “Dad is a hero” because of his devotion to mom during this season. He was her rescuer after all. Because of mom’s condition they moved from their home into an assisted living situation. My dad didn’t need to be there but my mom did, so he made the choice to join her. He didn’t like the living conditions. The food was bad and the company was old and disconnected. But more than anything, he hated how he was no longer in control of his schedule. He knew, however, that his life was not about him and his comfort. Once again he was required to place my mom’s needs before his own. This was a caring and devotion that surpasses passion. They had indeed become one flesh. When my dad died my mom’s heart went with him. Because of her condition she doesn’t fully understand that he is with the Lord. She often asks where he is only to remember and grieve for him all over again. I know that her days are fleeing and they will soon be together again. They have shared a love that even death cannot separate. I recently shared with my wife the struggle I had with the Biblical truth about no marriage in Heaven. In Matthew 22:30, Jesus tells the Sadducees that they do not need to worry about who their wives will be married to in Heaven because there is no marriage in Heaven. I love Tara, and she is my gift from God; so thinking of heaven without her as my wife is disturbing. But I have come to realize that if God loves us enough to give us this on earth, we should trust what He will give us in Heaven. God has something better in store for us in Heaven. We will be with Him, and in perfection, our love relationship will grow even deeper. I can trust God to be good. As I recall my dad’s battle with the decline of my mom’s health I am inspired to love Tara that way. I must be the man for her. Heroes stand through adversity and reveal their love through commitment. My dad is a hero! As you read this, you might think to yourself, “I’ve blown it;” “I left my spouse;” “I am on my third marriage;” or whatever. Remember, it is not how you start, it is how you finish. You can make a commitment right now to be a hero. Take a deeper look at the major areas in a relationship. What needs to change in the honor area? Are you criticizing, cursing, ignoring? Are you still courting and wooing? What about security? Are you saying and doing things that are causing insecurity? Have you checked out mentally or physically? How about spiritual connection? Is it easier to be physically connected but not spiritually connected? When is the last time you prayed together? Are you willing to make adjustments? The making of a hero is the small decisions that shape our lives. Start today and make the choice to love your spouse. My father was a hero; he chose to love my mother. That’s what heroes do! Chapter Three

Heroes Love Their Children

Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it. Proverbs 22:6

I grew up with fewer siblings than my dad had, but what we lacked in numbers we made up for in the excessive individuality of each person. Not that four children was anything small, but my family’s greatness doesn’t come from the number of its members but from the depth of its soul. My brother, David, is the oldest of my dad’s children. He was always the most creative and artistic to the point that he didn’t do well with the structure of school. He was a very bright child, but he struggled all through grade school. Since then he has gone on to achieve great things including an undergraduate degree in Business, a Masters in History, and Masters in Southern Culture. He holds more degrees than a thermometer. His difficulty at a young age, though, is obviously not attributed to being unintelligent in any way, but he had a teacher in the second grade who he butted heads with, which resulted in her pulling out the ruler and slapping him around on a pretty regular basis. It got to the point where he developed a speech impediment and traumatized him into believing that he was failure. But once David got out of the school system he flourished. Not only is David bright and gifted, he is very determined. Over the course of his life, he has faced great difficulties and succeeded when lesser men would have surrendered. He is the oldest child. Some say that the oldest child gets all the parenting attention and all the mistakes. Judy is the only girl, and she held the key to my dad’s heart. Like I shared in chapter one, she is a miracle. I have not met anyone who is more outgoing than my sister. She is confident, intelligent, and strong willed. My sister has never met a stranger, nor has she ever faced a problem she could not solve. She was an attractive young girl in her teenage years and guys were after her like flies on stink. My dad didn’t like the idea of her dating so young, though, so there were times when they argued often. But no matter how rebellious she became, my dad treasured her like his own personal gift from God. Like David, Judy has faced life’s challenges and has overcome. Stan is the middle son. He is a gifted athlete. He can throw a strawberry through a keyhole, lift a horse, run down a deer, and shoot a running rabbit with a spitball. Okay, maybe not the last one. He played baseball and football throughout his youth. He was a pitcher and he never lost a game. Stan is a natural born athlete, but he lacked determination and drive. I didn’t have the natural athletic talent that he had but I could always beat him because I was more determined. Stan is also a scholar, holding an earned Doctorate in Ministry. He has been a pastor since his teenage years. He makes the rest of us look bad. And then there is me. I am the baby, and my family has not let me forget it. I am four years younger than my brother Stan, so I am the “guess what” baby. My mom came home from the doctor and announced “guess what.” My dad says I was an accident, and my mom says that I am their love child. I don’t like either label. I am also a pastor, and in my humble but accurate opinion, the most gifted of the four, after all I am writing all of this. Raising four children is a challenge that fewer and fewer people could even fathom doing these days. It is said we learn to be parents by watching our parents. If that is true, I have had some excellent training. My parents are godly, loving parents. My mom is doting and affectionate. She still calls me her baby boy. And my dad knew each of us inside and out. They were devoted to us becoming godly people who maintained our individuality in our own ways. Let me share with you lessons I’ve learned from my dad.

My dad made sure he stayed close to all of us throughout our lives, and his passing has left a huge hole in our hearts. My dad made it his business to know what was going on in our lives. He rarely missed a ball game, production, or concert. He knew our grades, our teachers, and whether or not we had been in trouble in school. Remember, he was a school principal. He had an inside track. At times, I believed he was God because he knew things that only God could know. Upon one occasion I got in trouble in school. I was always very aggressive and competitive so being in trouble was nothing new. On this occasion I got into a fight while waiting in the lunch line. I was in third grade. I was innocent! I was simply caught in the middle of two boys who were fighting and I was merely holding my ground. It only appeared that I was wrong because of the headlock I had on one of the young men. To be honest, I was beating the two boys up at the same time. I got in 21 fights in the seventh grade. I blame my dad. All the students who had gone to school with my dad as their teacher or principal wanted revenge and tried to take it out on me. I didn’t think that was very fair of them so we fought it out. The day I fought the two boys in the lunch line, we were sent to the principal and received proper punishment. I didn’t tell my dad when I got home that day because I knew that if I got in trouble in school I was in trouble at home. My not telling was a serious mistake. After a few weeks passed I thought I was in the clear until one fateful day my dad arrived home and summoned me into his bedroom. My dad had been called in for a meeting with my principal who had informed him about my recent troubles thus the day of reckoning. My dad whooped my rear end and I never repeated that behavior. Not the fighting or getting into trouble part, I just confessed quicker. I have discovered that most people don’t confess until they are caught and even then they don’t tell it all. When my dad intervened through discipline, he did so well informed and with great intentionality. He wouldn’t usually spank in anger. In those days it was common to use corporal punishment, but my dad always made sure that we understood what we had done wrong and thought good and hard about it before he spanked us. He would always talk to us first and explain things to us and made sure that we knew he loved us, and he would always bring Jesus into it. There usually came a point that I would thing, “Just spank me already”! Even after the spanking, though, I could always count on my dad to be there for me, and that brought me a great sense of security. It is said that you can map the world from a fixed point, and you can build a life from the security of a fully present dad. I had that dad. When the Lord called him home, I lost my fixed point. I must now become the fixed point for my family. My daughter, Calah, is attending the University of Texas in Austin. In a recent e-mail she called me “her rock.” I learned how to be a rock from my dad. She is facing the pressures of college and the decisions of proper adult behavior. She needs a fixed point of morality and behavior to map out her way. She needs a fully present dad. In my reply to her e-mail I stated that I would loosen my grip on her life as she aged, but I would never let go. I am committed to her.

Not only did my dad stay close to us as kids, but he understood that as a father he couldn’t treat his kids the same. Now, at first, that sounds strange. Yes, you love your children al equally, but every child is different. The best parenting solution is to become a student of your children. For example, my dad would challenge me. He could shout at me from the stands of a ball game and make me so mad that I would perform at a whole new level. I remember playing softball for our church team. My dad was there cheering me on. At one point in the game I came to the plate, and he announced, “You going to fly out again”? I prided myself on the hitting fly balls so the foul was a bit of a soft spot. His saying that made me so mad that I hit a home run. Instead of celebrating a big hit, I turned and leered at him and said, “How about that fly ball, old man.” He just laughed. He did what needed doing. Unlike me, my brother Stan would not respond to that kind of challenge. He needed encouragement and positive reinforcement. I think he was just a big baby. But my dad knew us and adjusted his parenting accordingly. Stan had a tough time in high school. He would always have chosen hunting and fishing when he should have been studying, so his grades suffered. My dad attempted the challenge theory that worked so well on me with Stan. I’ll never forget my dad saying, “Boy, I know you aren’t that stupid.” Well, Stan was far from stupid, but that kind of challenge shut him down where it would have fired me up. Stan eventually came around and finished in the top of every class through his academic career. My dad learned to cheer Stan on. He would often let Stan sort things out and wait for him to come asking for advice. He understood Stan. When it came to Judy, he really understood her. He would stand his ground with proper boundaries against the onslaught of her strong will. She owned his heart, but he knew her outgoing personality needed to be protected. I vividly remember the parenting struggle between Judy and my parents. The challenge with Judy was very intense during her teenage years. Judy is very beautiful and attracted the attention of boys at an early age. She was five foot six with dark hair and dark eyes; she was very pretty. She was tremendously outgoing and treated had the ability to make everybody feel like they were special, much like my dad had. She made some of them feel a little too special, though, which is what got her so much attention. Some of the boys took her friendliness the wrong way. She wanted to date when she was fourteen or fifteen, but my mom and dad had agreed that Judy was not allowed to date until she was sixteen. It was the right decision; they saw that she didn’t have the maturity wisdom. But Judy didn’t think it was the right decision and was very vocal about it. She never rebelled in the sense that she went against their will, but her opinions were never left unheard or fought for. My parents stood their ground and they made sure they knew where Judy was and with whom. It was not easy! I have never met a person who has a stronger will than my sister. I believe that it was the power of prayer and the work of God in my sister that kept things from being a disaster. Studies have shown that girls who delay dating have a much higher morality rate and better success in life than those who date young. My parents withstood the onslaught of my sister’s will in order to protect and provide for her. I have watched my sister make the same decision with her wonderful daughters. David, my oldest brother, was very different from Stan and me. We loved competing, playing sports, and being in the outdoors, whereas David was more interested in art, music, and creating. He was very creative. He used to build exact replica model planes out of Clorox boxes. Then he drew a flight plan around our neighborhood for all of us to fly our planes around. He was able to create things from nothing but his imagination and make them functional. Even though my dad’s preferences were very different from David’s, he stayed fully engaged with David’s interests. David was the oldest so they spent a lot of time together when he was little, but as David grew up and formed his own interests, even though my dad was more sports and education minded than artistic, he found what he could connect with David on and they would be able to have deep intellectual conversations about history, southern culture, and their mutual love for cooking. Becoming a student of your children requires time. Often, we are so busy in our own affairs that their childhood slips away and our time of parenting is gone. There is a golden window of parenting from around birth to eleven years of age. This is the season where personality and core beliefs are being discovered and formed. This season is the prime opportunity to really invest. That means some of the things I do I can no longer do, or I must find a way to involve my children in the activities that I love to do. Your golf handicap, your killing the trophy buck, or climbing to the top of the corporate ladder will not matter if you lose your children. Then the teenage years come, and parenting becomes more critical. My father and I really had it rough during those teenage years. I wanted to do what I wanted to do, and I really didn’t want his involvement or advice. But my dad never backed off no matter how hard I pushed him away. He stayed with me. Looking back I see his wisdom and commitment, and I am grateful. He knew me better than I thought because he had studied me throughout my life. I came out of those years with a great love and respect for my father. Now, having my own children go through teenage years, I understand what my dad was doing, and I am doing the same. I want my children to know that I know them and that I will always be involved in their lives. Because my children are very different, I can’t treat them or parent them the same.

One of the greatest benefits I have discovered in parenting is being involved in a Biblical small group. I am surrounded by other parents who love God, love me, and love that my children are involved in my life. These other adult heroes can speak truth into my children’s lives. I can gain wisdom and support from other parents, who are a bit further along in their parenting, and I can give of what I have learned. It allows you to work as a team in parenting. It is also important to know who is influencing your children. You must know their friends and their friends’ parents. I have discovered that parents are often promoters of many teenage negative behaviors. For some reason parents in communities I have lived in think it is okay to serve their underage children and their friends alcohol. I can’t believe that some parents can be that brazened. If I don’t know the kinds of choices that other parents make then I don’t know what my children are being exposed to. Knowledge of these parents helps me protect my children. A mistake some parents make is trying to be “cool.” Your teenagers don’t want you to be “cool.” They want you to be their parents. When parents act like teenagers it is very confusing to their children. One of the greatest gifts you can give your kids is to grow up! However, while it is important to not act like a teenager, as a parent it is still important that I stay current. I must know what is going on in the culture that my children are exposed to on a daily basis and what and who is influencing them. By staying current I send them a message that I care but I am still an adult and as an adult I am “there” for them. Tara and I have made a pact with other parents to make wise decisions and to inform each other of those who don’t. The lives and wellbeing of our children are at stake! When you are a part of a biblical small group of other parents you know and can trust, it is a lot easier!

When you stay close to your children, you discover behaviors that need correcting. I have learned from my father to be firm, fair, and forgiving. Remember, my dad was a school principal. He was a professional disciplinarian. He was not perfect in disciplining, but he was always fair and forgiving. I never felt unloved when he corrected me. At times, however, I felt great shame and pain, and in those moments I learnt the lesson that my dad was trying to teach me. I have heard it taught to never let your children feel shame. I believe the pain of shame when followed by unconditional commitment is very powerful in correcting negative behavior. Shame can lead to repentance if acceptance is the practice of the family. This is how God brings us along. We feel the shame of our behavior and find forgiveness and acceptance allowing God’s love to then motivate us toward His desired behaviors. I lived in a house that was full of acceptance and now, as a parent, I must always accept my children even when I don’t approve of their behavior. One of the most effective methods my dad used on me was self-correction. Whenever I had done something bad he would ask me how I should have behaved. Then after some behavior modification (a spanking when I was younger), he would give tell me the proper future response. Because I was very competitive and aggressive, I had to be reminded often. There came a time when the spanking part was no longer needed and I could come to an understanding of how I should have done something differently without it. Even as an adult, he coached me with the same technique. As a leader of a large church, I often call him for prayer and advice. He would return to his core method of allowing me to self-correct.

My dad also supported me paying for my education. As a firm believer in education this was truly important to him to ensure that I was properly educated. With three siblings before me that also had to go to college, funding for such things was tight, so he helped me pay for college by finding me summer jobs. This first job he got me was when I was nineteen. I was a sort of repairman for the school, which was built in 1912. Just imagine what that building would have required. The first thing I had to do there was climb under the school (it was built above ground – they didn’t make basements in that time) and cover the insulation with plastic during the heat of a Florida summer. Four weeks later, once I had finished that task I had to knock down the chimney. Four stories up off the ground a nineteen-year-old swung a sledgehammer at a stone chimney. It was a miracle I didn’t get killed! When I was twenty-one he got me a job in a root field that was being turned into a sewage spray field. Thanks, Dad. To get the job I had to go meet this guy at 5:30 in the morning. Four other guys showed up and he explained the job to us and we were all hired to work from 5:30 to 5:30 every day. Our job was to pick the roots, haul them to a big pile in the middle of the field, and then bury them. There were pounds and pounds of roots to be hauled. So on the first day, I showed up in my tennis shoes and board shorts and I was the only one. No one else showed up. I spent the next five weeks in the sewage field by myself picking, loading, hauling, and burying roots under the Florida sun. By the end of that summer I was so brown you couldn’t see me at night. I looked like a Mexican immigrant. But as bad as that summer sounds, it was one of my best because it was the year I started dating Tara, which made anything in life bearable. Whether I liked the job or not, it was important for my future that I had it to be able to get through college and without support from my dad I couldn’t have done it.

My dad also accepted the people his children married. This might be the hardest thing for a parent to do, especially to accept the man in your daughter’s life. But my dad did! Judy married Ron when she was only twenty. Ron is a great guy from a wonderful family, but getting married at twenty is a bit young, but Judy was always eager in that area so it wasn’t that surprising. Both my mom and dad welcomed Ron into the family. When I brought Tara home to meet my parents, I had no fear as to whether or not she would be accepted. I had been dating Tara for about four months. It was since February 9th of 1980, and I remember so vividly because I had asked her out numerous times and she relentlessly turned me down every time. Then finally one day she asked me out. I think I broke her down slowly with my charm. We were both attending Florida State University and I had gone home for the five-week summer break. She came down to meet them during that time off, and they knew right away that she was the woman that I would marry. Eventually, when I called to tell them that we were engaged they weren’t at all surprised. My parents loved Tara before they knew her. Love is a decision based on commitment, and because I was committed to Tara, so were my parents. I believe they love her more than they love me! When Stan married Vicky, my mom and dad welcomed her with open arms and hearts. Vicky is from Mississippi so loving her was easy. Mississippi folks stick together. Many times parents fail to accept the people their children choose to marry, thus causing hurt and heartache. When children get married, they leave the direct influence of their parents. If parents refuse to release their children into the bond of marriage, they hurt their child’s ability to form a soul-level connection to their spouse. Unconditional acceptance of your child’s spouse sets the groundwork for a healthy extended family relationship. Often, young couples fight and fuss and, in the process, run home or involve their parents in their marital dispute. This is a big mistake. Throughout my relationship with Tara my parents have refused to take sides or even listen to our quarrels. They had the wisdom not to get in the middle of our marriage. The closest we got to this was upon one occasion. Tara threatened to tell my dad about how poorly I was treating her. We had been married for a year and I had become bossy and lost my sweetness towards her. She was frustrated with me. My dad always told her that if I ever treated her badly to tell him and he would straighten me out. She was ready to take him up on that and I knew that my dad would take her side, so I adjusted my behavior!

My father would say, “If I knew that grandchildren were so wonderful, I would have had them first.” I am not a grandfather, but I am a grandfather in training. Watching my father become a wonderful grandfather inspires me to be a hero to the next generation. One day my son, Caleb, said, “If you become half the man your father is, you will do well.” He is right in many ways. Caleb thinks that because my father lets me be the dad. He has never tried to go around me or undermine my influence over my children. I have made plenty of parenting mistakes, but my father never interfered. It is true that he could have done a much better job of raising my children than I have due to his experience and wisdom, but he understood that God gave those children for me to be responsible for. When we lived in Texas and my parents lived in Florida my children’s time with grandparents was limited. However, we made sure that my parents, along with Tara’s parents, were a vital part of their lives. We had to be intentional through vacations, extended summer stays, and weekly phone calls. One of the most important responsibilities grandparents have is to love their grandchildren. Leave the parenting to the parents. Use the wisdom of experience to coach your kids only when asked. Children need grandparents who are safe, loving, and supportive of their parents. As you read this don’t be deceived into thinking my father was perfect. He wasn’t. What he had was a vital relationship with God that guided his every decision. God wants to help you parent. Let him. Only with His help can you become a hero. Chapter Four

Heroes Face Their Fears

For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. 2 Timothy 1:7

Fear is the mother of all negative emotions. Fear is the root of anger, rage, depression, slander, worry, and even addiction. Fear has the ability to destroy any relationship. Fear must be faced. In 2 Timothy 1:7, God’s word says, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and a sound mind.” We know that fear doesn’t come from God. So, where does it come from? Fear comes mostly from the uncertainty of life. We don’t know what lies ahead, so we become fearful, which leads to all other negative emotions. My dad once told me that, “Most of the things we are scared of don’t happen, and if they do, they don’t amount to much.” This is wisdom gained through experience. You can’t teach experience, but you can learn from the experiences of others. This is what I have learned from my dad.

Face the fear of death. Death is perhaps the most common fear, and if we live in fear of it, we will never fully live. Over the course of his life, my dad faced death several times. The first and most compelling encounter was serving in the military. War is something in this world that is not only brought on by fear but creates fear that can cause people to do and act in ways that are unthinkable outside of it. World War II was a trying time for all of humanity and our nation played a major role. The specter of death hung around every corner. My dad served in Europe. Throughout his time there he was stationed in London, France, and Belgium. He was in London during the Battle of London, Normandy during the Invasion of Normandy, and Belgium during the Battle of the Bulge. He was surrounded by death during the entire time he spent there. He once told me, “If a guy could survive two weeks on the front then he would come home alive.” During his time in Normandy he was assigned to guard a plane on the beach for a night. He stood by that plane all night, Tommy Gun in hand. While he stood there alone in the dark, with only his imagination to keep him company, he heard a rustling in the trees. He knew that the Germans were lurking nearby waiting for the right moment to come out of the trees and unleash themselves on the sleeping soldiers. He felt the closeness of death. As the sun came out, a cow walked out of the woods. No relief in the world would have felt as good. His first real encounter with death came soon after he had given his life to the Lord that night in Belgium. At his conversion, my dad felt God had promised him that he would return home safely. Soon after that experience, on December 16th, 1944, Hitler’s army launched a counter-offensive called the Battle of the Bulge through the dense forests of Belgium, France, and Luxembourg. The battle began late a night, when Hitler’s army moved under the cover of darkness catching the allies by surprise. The U.S. Army at that time, my dad included, had a lack of experience with combat in this sector and wasn’t prepared for what it was about to face. Throughout this encounter my dad was stationed in Wallonia, Belgium. He held onto God’s promise and faced his fear. On January 7th, 1945, Hitler agreed to withdraw forces giving the Americans a victory that affected the world. Following the Battle of the Bulge, Winston Churchill referred to it as, “Undoubtedly the greatest American battle of the war and will, I believe, be regarded as an ever-famous American victory.” Approximately 19,000 American’s died in this battle. My dad was there, and he wasn’t afraid. During his time in Normandy he did some photography for the 101st Airborne Division, which was renowned for it’s action during the Normandy Landings and in the Battle of the Bulge. The division was made up of a bunch of cowboys and indians from Texas. They were rough, mean warriors, and they won battles because of the courage and bravery of the individual fighters. Like Carl Wilson Baxter said, “Courage is fear that has said its prayers.” My dad was living amongst men who lived without fear of death, and like them, he wasn’t afraid. When the war was over and Hitler had given up, my dad helped as part of the first group to free who remained of the 250,000 prisoners of the Buchenwald labor camp in Germany. He saw worn, starved, and broken people who had been robbed of their humanity by a civilization of pure evil, and he wasn’t afraid. The truth is that a believer will not die until God is finished with him. When we have a relationship with God through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, we can live in the face of death with no fear. To quote Psalm 118, “I will not die but live to declare what God has done.” We are immortal until God is finished with us. As my dad told us his stories of facing the hell of war it showed in his resolve a tenacity to face anything.

I have learned from watching my dad to live without fear of death. I love taking risks and I am somewhat an adrenaline “junkie.” This personality trait has always troubled my mother. I have often told her not to worry. I state with holy boldness, “I will not die until God is finished with me.” She counter-states, “Don’t be so stupid that God kills you because you are an embarrassment.” She has a point! I’ve become less prone to taking physical risks with age, but I still love the “rush.” The risks I have taken of late are more along the lines of major life risks as opposed to ones that involve my surfboard and such, but sometimes the changes feel more life threatening. For example, normal people wouldn’t more from Florida to Canada. That just isn’t something sane people would do. It was a huge test of faith. We moved into a new culture, new climate, different denomination, stepping in as a leader to a church that has been well led for a long time. But, as part of my character, the risk appealed to me. I try everyday not to be afraid of what I have gotten my family and myself into and what the future might hold for us because I saw that in life my dad wasn’t afraid.

My dad also faced his fear of death through a life-threatening illness. On Thanksgiving weekend, 1995, my dad was dining at my sister’s house when he began to feel uncomfortable, and the following morning he went to the hospital. He was admitted to the hospital when the doctors discovered an aneurism had developed along his aorta between his heart and his kidneys. He went right into intensive care. Tara and I were living in Texas at the time, so as soon as I heard we quickly made the long trip to Florida. Upon our arrival, we found my dad heavily sedated and awaiting surgery to repair the enlarged aorta. Seeing him in that state gave me a great sense of dread as opposed to fear. I wasn’t afraid of losing him or of him facing death, but I dreaded the day that he would no longer be here. Fear is an emotion we get when facing the unknown. Dread is something we feel about reality. The great faith of our family was put to the test as we faced the possibility of my father going home, but we weren’t afraid of his unknown future. My brother, Stan, and I prayed over our father as pastors and sons who long to see their father restored and dreaded the day that he wouldn’t be. My dad sat on the edge of eternity with no fear. He had no uncertainty. He knew he was safe with whatever the Lord had in mind. He recovered, and although limited, he was fine. Recalling that time, my dad said that the only prayer he remembered was not the passionate praying of his preacher boys, but the prayer of my little girl, Calah. She was eight at the time and prayed over her grandfather like only a grandchild could. She was always a very articulate child, but all she said was, “Lord, please don’t let my grandpa die.” So much for the prayers of two preachers! As my dad aged he experienced his health failing. He called me one day and asked me about heaven. He said “Son, what do you know about heaven?” He was asking me as a pastor and as his son. I told him, “I know a lot,” and I recommended him a book. I asked, “Dad, why do you want to know about heaven?” He said, “Well, I think it’s getting close and I would like to know what the good Lord has for me.” This conversation gave me a great sense of loss, that soon nothing would ever be the same. As he was getting older he would start to say things like, “I’m at the age where I don’t buy green bananas anymore,” and “Well, I guess this is the last time I’m gonna go to the Walmart” (I heard that for forty years). All I know is that my dad is not afraid of dying. In September of 2007, my dad, once again, faced death, and once again, he wasn’t afraid. After breaking his hip, his kidneys failed, and he went to be with his Lord. Years ago in the Belgian snow, my dad made peace with God, and God’s promise of heaven drove out all fear.

Heroes who know Christ are not afraid to die. Can you face the fear of death with that same confidence? You can if you too will give your life to Christ. Another fear a hero faces is the illness or the death of his children. I can think of nothing more disturbing than this topic. I watched my father face this fear. In 1989, my sister Judy, in her late twenties, was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s disease. This is a cancer of the lymphatic system commonly found in younger people. The whole family was very frightened, and this was the one time that I could sense true fear from my dad. He knew that if God wanted to take Judy at her young age it was his decision, but he feared for her future. My dad had faced this fear with Judy’s birth and now once again. As was his practice, he turned to prayer. My dad struggled as he pounded heaven’s door for the life of his daughter. Judy went through treatment and has recovered. She is currently cancer free. She remembers calling my dad and giving him the good news after her initial post-treatment appointment. As she told him that the cancer was contained and that she was in remission the phone went silent. She asked him what he was doing and he replied, “I’m thanking God.” When the Lord is the shepherd of your life, you can walk through such times with no fear. I am sure the stench of fear has been pungent in my father’s life, but he never reacted to that foul odor. Nor did he give in to panic. God held him close. Why? Because he had a personal relationship with God through Jesus Christ. In the middle of this life crisis, my dad was never angry with God, even though he questioned what God was doing. He kept leading Judy and the rest of our family back to the truth of God and His goodness. He briefly let the fear for his child’s future in, but never let it find a foothold. Although the emotions of fear were present, he didn’t allow it to rule his life. God has used that experience in my sister’s life to forge a ministry to others who are going through the same thing. God never wastes a hurt. He uses all things in our lives for His glory, even the scary stuff. God has also used this experience in our family to show us that we are not in control; He is.

Living 88 years affords you the opportunity to experience a lot of change. For many of us, change is a catalyst for fear because it comes with uncertainty. Due to humanity’s innate nature to be self-focused, uncertainty brings out the me- syndrome in people. “What could this change do to me and my future”? I love change, but only if I am the one in control of that change. What I have learned from my dad is to realize that I am not in control. I don’t have the right to control anything but myself and my actions. My problem is that I want to control everything but myself. How can we face the fear of change? My father taught me that worry is a waste of time. Things will change. God will not. It is not what happens to you in life; it is what happens IN you. God is more interested in our character than our circumstances. He wants you to be like Jesus and He uses change to move us in that direction. When your life is grounded in the unchanging God there is nothing fearful about the changes in this life. So relax. You are going to age; it’s inevitable so relax and just let it happen as a part of life unfolding. You are going to get sick, so relax. Your kids will grow up and spend all your money on college, so relax. Nothing that happens in your life surprises God. He is in control, so relax. There are many other things that come up in life that bring fear aside from the ones I have mentioned already. What I have discovered is that I create most of my fears out of my refusal to live life God’s way. God fills our lives with His promises, but His promises are tied to our obedience. The only promise of God tied to grace is salvation. Everything else other than His presence in our lives is about obeying. When I fail to trust and obey God I am filled with fear. Fear is not an indicator of the lack of faith. Fear is an indicator of the need of God. When I am afraid, I need to get close to Jesus, for His perfect love casts out fear. What are you sacred of? What barks at your soul late at night? God’s word says to cast your cares on Him, for he cares for you. Will you? Remember, what my dad said, “Most of the things you are scared of never happen, and those that do, don’t amount to much.” Let God be your shepherd, and face your fears. When my dad passed away I faced one of my greatest fears: life without him. I grieve for my dad every day. I miss his influence and guidance, but I find confidence in his example of facing life without fear. Looking back at my dad I noticed that he didn’t voice his fears often. I am sure there were days when he thought that life was unbearable and his fears were overwhelming, but he took them to the Lord. That’s what heroes do. Chapter Five

Heroes Invest Their Lives

We are given one life to live, and it passes quickly. It’s not about you! Life is about God! Really, it is about getting ready for the next life in Heaven. Each one of us has been given passions, abilities, experiences, a personality, and gifts that God wants us to give away to others. When we make the choice to invest our lives, we really discover life and prepare for eternity. My dad taught me about investing. I watched him pour his life into pursuing his personal passion for helping the disabled. He invested himself into those who needed him. He was known as a leader and a champion of the ones who were at a disadvantage. He had an incredible way about him. With his commanding voice and statuesque figure, he created a presence when he walked into a room and he used that presence to support those who needed extra attention. He had a compassion for the underdeveloped. My dad was forty when I was born. By the time I came along, he was well established in his profession. He led an elementary school that was in an under- resourced part of our town. It was located in Niceville, Florida in a pocket that seemed to have been left out of any societal advancement, not to mention government funding. The students at his school lacked basic needs like food and clothing. The school had sewage problems, and struggled with sanitation and basic cleanliness. If you looked at this area of Florida today it might be comparable to a third world country. But my dad was the sole light in this forgotten black hole in Florida. He started a breakfast and lunch program for the kids who didn’t have food. He started an afterschool and hygiene program. He hired a good staff and created a camaraderie to keep them there working for this needful community where they had to be extra creative. He dealt with teachers intellectually and mentored the parents of the children at his school to look past their circumstances. He invested his time and soul into this destitute community. In the early sixties, schools were not meeting the needs of the learning impaired. There was some groundbreaking work being done for those with mental handicaps, but not much else. My dad joined with other like-minded educators in establishing learning environments for the hearing impaired, vision impaired, and emotionally disturbed. He created special classes and hired special teachers and created a needs assessment process. There was need in my dad’s school, and he invested himself in those who needed more than the system was willing to invest.

My dad’s passion in this area may have come from personal experience. It could have been growing up in poverty and understanding need and desperation. It could also have been what he went through with his own child. My dad watched me struggle through vision impairment all through my childhood. My eyes were dilated everyday for a year and one was crossed. I wore a patch over my eye. I struggled with depth perception and needed extensive ophthalmological care. But my dad never treated me like I was disabled. I still played sports. I could still hit a baseball even though I couldn’t see it. I had the confidence and drive to succeed. Everything I went through, though, showed my dad that where the investment was really needed. His misery became his ministry. My dad’s passion was to help children. He became an educator in order to invest. His investment was not limited to disabled children. His school was known for strong commitments to excellence. He retired in 1983 and throughout the remainder of his life former students would greet him in public with warm affection. They remember his investment. At his funeral service several people approached me with fond stories of how my dad loved them and encouraged them during those important developmental years of their lives. For some students he was the only one who cared enough to set limits and enforce discipline. Even the students who experienced the “board of education,” loved and respected him. I never attended my dad’s school. He didn’t want me to experience special treatment because of his position. I was, however, eye witness to the excellence he demanded and created in his school. Every summer I would work for my dad. He hired me to cut grass when I was twelve and paid me two dollars a day. Later, he hired me to wax floors and then I was a part of a renovation crew that updated his very old school building. While working for him I discovered the professional and intentional way he operated. I learned a lot about leadership just by watching him lead. I believe that my dad saw the leadership gift in me and began coaching me through working for and with him. Plato said that “Leadership is influence,” and my dad was the greatest influence on my life. With the leadership role I have now as a pastor, I use the leadership skills I learned from his influence every day. It was all a part of his investment in me.

I watched my dad’s passion change with age. He started his career as a coach. He was a great coach. He even took an undersized group of boys to the basketball finals in Mississippi. He loved coaching, but in his 50s he changed directions and went back to school to earn his masters degree in education so he could become a principle for a wider influence. He was principal for several high schools and it took up a lot of his time and there were a lot of expectations placed on him, so in 1960, he changed to elementary schools to make a difference in younger children and to have more time with his family. I am so proud that he put us ahead of a career path. His changing didn’t stop there. When he retired, he became my mother’s caregiver. My mom really didn’t need a caregiver, but my dad needed a job. As my parents aged, that job became more needed and important. I watched him set aside his personal wellbeing to care for my mom. Her health was declining. Her dementia slowly got worse over the years and he dealt with her changing moods and paranoia. She was even miss-medicated at one point. She was given a psychotropic drug that she didn’t need that changed her from sweet and caring to mean and moody. She became a different person. And even in the face of these challenges, my dad accepted this change and loved my Mom. During the last few months of my dad’s life my mom, because of the wrong medication, became very difficult to live with. My dad was very disturbed and frustrated, but he kept investing in her. He didn’t let circumstances change his commitments.

In the later stages of life, my dad started ministering to high school students in his church. His core passion for making a difference with young people never left him. It is very rare to have an 80 year-old youth minister, but my dad’s church had one, a really good one! He was virtually ageless. He could relate to any generation. Most men get their self-worth from their profession; my dad got his from his relationships. Relationships make life rich, so people are important. My dad made sure that everyone he met understood that. I learned to look people in the eye by watching him. I learned to remember names by watching him. I learned to look past superficial complaints to see unmet needs by watching him. I learned never to react in anger or haste by watching him. I learned to look past problems and see potential in people by watching him. I learned to see the eternal worth of the most physically or mentally challenged by watching him. I have learned never to give up on the spiritual condition of someone by watching him. I have learned not to judge or compartmentalize people by watching him. My dad was not perfect, but he believed that people are worth the investment. My dad took investing very seriously, especially when it came to the church. He had two sons who are pastors. Pastors had a dear place in his heart. He made sure that every pastor that he served alongside knew that they could count on him. Even when he didn’t agree with a pastor’s direction or vision, he followed. He refused to join the folks who complained or divided. He supported his pastor. Heroes are leaders, and you can’t lead without first following. My dad willingly submitted to the spiritual leadership of his pastors. At times, his pastors have not been as gifted a leader as my dad, but he would always follow, support, pray for, and encourage them. His investment in pastors takes on a personal side when it comes to my brother, Stan, and me. My dad was our spiritual advisor. Every week, we received a call of encouragement and coaching. He was concerned about the work of God we are leading. Mostly, he was concerned about the work of God in us. Stan and I knew we could count on our dad for wisdom, discernment, and the truth. At times I really didn’t want to hear his advice or heed his instructions, but time and again, he was proven right. You just can’t teach experience. My dad said people are people whether leading a team, a school, or a church. People bring problems, and leaders solve those problems. My dad’s investment was filled with encouragement. The Bible says to let no unwholesome word come from your mouth, only what builds up. That passage has been lived out in my dad’s life. He got me through a lot of discouragement that I experiences as a pastor. He always made sure I wasn’t listening to the critical voices that can plague a church environment. Bill Hibulson has said that eight people in church are planted by Satan to bring people down and if one falls he’ll put in another one. I have experience what those eight people can do to a church and a pastor, but my dad never let it discourage me. Even as he aged he refused to be negative. He was an encourager. He faced many difficult circumstances, but he refused to give in to discouragement. At times, he felt down, as is normal, but he was quick to self-correct through prayer and reading God’s word. When my dad passed away, David, Judy, Stan, and I lost our spiritual advisor. We miss him greatly. I would give anything to hear my dad’s voice on the other end of the phone bringing his encouragement and wisdom. We have learned to encourage one another. Now that he is with Jesus we have become advisors to each other. I love my brothers and my sister, and I consider investing in them an extension of my dad.

Are you investing your life? God has a special purpose for you, and your life matters. You were not placed on this earth to take up space and use up resources. You are not an accident. God wants and needs your investment. Your family and friends need your investment. The people of this world need your investment. What will you do? Will you discover the gifts, abilities, personality, passion, and experiences that make you unique and then invest in the lives of others? Remember, life is not about you! What are you doing? What should you be doing? It is not how you start, it is how you finish, so become a hero and invest! My dad was a hero. He spent his life investing. He was not a rich man, as far as money goes. He was rich in wisdom, love, and relationships. God says to lay up treasures in Heaven. You do that by investing your life in people! That’s what heroes do!

Chapter Six

Heroes Leave a Legacy

But I lavish unfailing love for a thousand generations on those who love me and obey my commands. Exodus 20:6

A few years back, the men of my family made a trip into the thick woodlands of Alabama. We were returning to the traditional hunting grounds of the Creek Indian Nation. We are descendants of the Creek Indians, so we felt we were returning home. A friend from his church offered my brother the opportunity to spend some time at a deer lease. We were on a huge acreage with beautiful, southern woodland trees, a spring fed brook, and red clay hills, with an abundance of deer for us to hunt, trails for hiking, and fish for catching. Our hunting party was made up of my father, brothers, David and Stan, Stan’s son, Aaron, my son, Caleb, and me. Caleb was 10 or 11 at the time. The Weatherford men were on a grand adventure. When you travel with us, it is just that, an adventure. On our adventure, there were many side trips and unexpected detours. It seems that my brother, Stan, has trouble passing up any Wal-Mart. One side trip we did plan was a visit to the grave of our ancestor, William Henry Weatherford. We wound our way through the back roads of Alabama until we came upon a sign that pointed out a narrow path that led to the gravesite of our famous relative, who we are direct descendants of, William Henry Weatherford, also known as Red Eagle. He was chief of the Creek Indian Nation. He was infamous for leading a massacre of over four hundred men, women, and children at Fort Mims, Alabama. Andrew Jackson defeated them at the battle of Horseshoe Bend resulting in the dispersion of the Creeks to Oklahoma. There is a famous painting of Weatherford riding into Andrew Jackson’s camp. He was a great historical figure in Southern Alabama. My brother being a historian and my dad with an undergraduate in history enlightened us of his historical importance, and we were all pretty interested in seeing his gravesite. My ancestor was quite a man. He stood up to the most powerful army on this continent, facing insurmountable odds because he felt his people were being mistreated and maligned. As we stood at his grave, my brother, David, the history professor, began telling amazing tales about the life and times of Red Eagle. As he shared, I found myself wondering what might be said about me by my ancestors. Will my life leave a legacy? Am I making a difference? Heroes leave a legacy. They make a difference. They leave a well-lighted path for others to follow. My father did just that. How? Here is what I have learned.

Be a man of your word. When my father told you something, it was as good as done. When he promised he would correct me, he did. When he promised to help, he helped. When he promised to pray, he prayed. When he promised to repay a loan or debt, he did. Everyone knew he was good on his promise; his word stood. This may sound noble or naive, but being that kind of man takes discipline. There were times when keeping his word cost my dad. He did it anyway. In God’s word the psalmist wrote in chapter fifteen that a godly man keeps his word even when it hurts. My dad is a godly man. His godly character is displayed through the actions that follow his promises. The ancient Hebrews believed that words had a life of their own. When a word or vow was spoken it would accomplish what was uttered. My dad has lived his life with that underpinning. His words had life followed by his character that produced his actions. My dad chose to be a blessing. He made sure that he was a man who brought life to every relationship. There are three basic types of people: people who replenish others, people who drain others, and people who make no difference. My dad chose to replenish. How? By not being negative, critical, arrogant, or vindictive. He was a man you looked forward to seeing. He brought life to others. So many people today are filled with negativity. I am a pastor and one of the greatest struggles I face is negative, critical people. It seems that people today think they have a right to complain about anything, anytime, to anyone. They don’t realize that their negativity is hurting the cause of God and the lives of others. I have discovered that most negative attitudes are based on immaturity, selfishness, or preference. In the life of a church or any organization that involves people you will encounter problems. A negative person complains while a person who chooses to be a blessing problem solves. Peter Madden said, “If you’re not the solution, you’re part of the problem.” The choice to be a blessing and not negative is crucial. Negative people are not used by God. That statement might take you back. You might think, “God can use anybody.” You are right, but let me explain. While nothing is too hard for God and no one is out of his reach, God is not the god of can’t. God can, and God will. This is the essence of positive. When you are negative you display a serious lack of faith and then you influence others around you to do the same. We are spiritual beings and God wants us to be like Him. He is a can do God. We need to think like Him, act like Him, and have His mind. There is no room for negative critical spirits in the mind of those who follow God. Throughout his life my dad faced many negative situations and negative people. He chose to become like God and be filled with his hope. When a problem arose he looked for a way to make things better. As my mom’s health declined he would get a little depressed, but he battled that by thinking about solutions. He would confront negativity with truth. When I encountered negative people he would often tell me to hear the hurt behind the complaint. He said that people who are hurting will complain in order to get help. Most of the time their whining had nothing to do with the current situation but an underlining hurt, hang up, or habit. A person who chooses to be a blessing will be willing to face the negative critical spirit in others and find the true hurt and bring healing. This is a powerful lesson. It is much easier to just walk away from critical folks, but being a blessing means dealing with messy people. I have discovered there are some people you just have to honor from a distance. No matter what you do or say they refuse to own up to their dysfunction and must be turned over to God. If you stay close to them they will destroy you. Honoring from a distance means that I will refuse to gossip, slander, or shun them, but I will refuse to let their attitude influence mine. Many times that means avoiding contact. This is hard to do especially when they are family.

If you are negative then check your heart. It is time to grow up and become a hero. Remember an unexamined life is a dangerous life, so take time to look at you. My dad let his life lead by example. He grew up in a generation that was more concerned about how they appeared to others than how they really were. He went against that cultural trend by being authentic. I saw so many men in my dad’s generation who acted one way at church, only to live far differently elsewhere. It seems the church in the south is more about status than being like Christ. It’s like a cultural Christianity. It’s more about being “Christian” than living for God in genuine faith. People play churchianity instead of real Christianity. It’s superficial. Because that genuine faith is missing there tends to be more negativity and backbiting. This lack of authenticity negates the power of God’s gospel and leads people astray. The consistency of my dad’s character built confidence, not only in him, but in his commitment to Christ. As people watched his life they saw that he lived what he believed. He was authentic not just for his sake, but because he represented Jesus Christ. He didn’t want anyone to think less of the God he followed based on his actions. My dad was Dad at school, at home, in church, or at a ball game. He was real. My dad never took himself too seriously. He loved fun. He loved to tell stories. He loved to compete, to hunt and fish, to play. My dad was fun to be around. Even in my teenage years, I loved to hang out with him. I miss those days every day. The Bible says in Exodus chapter twenty that a man who loves God and follows his way will leave a blessing to the thousandth generation. A man who loves God blesses all who follow after. One thousand years from now my ancestors will be experiencing the blessing of God because my father chose to leave a legacy. The truth is that you will leave a legacy. The kind of legacy is dependant on your choice. The Bible also says in that same passage that the sins of the father visit the children to the third and fourth generation. What are you leaving? Are you leaving a blessing or a curse? You might be thinking that your descendents are in trouble. Remember, it is not how you start, it is how you finish. You can make changes in your life today that will show up in the lives of future generations. What changes? Get right with God through a relationship with Jesus. Most of us want God on our terms. That will not work. God will not adjust to you. God wants you to be like Him, and the only way for that to happen is for you to surrender your life to His care and control. That’s the beginning of being a blessing. Once you have surrendered to Jesus, then He will grow in you. I realize that sounds strange, but He will grow in you. You allow that to happen by being connected in a local church family, reading His word, praying, investing your money and life in God’s Kingdom, telling your God story to others, and making all your life about worshipping God. God knows you can’t do these things on your own, so He is living inside you and sending people to help you. As you read this, if you have never surrendered your life to Jesus Christ, why not? The greatest commitment you can make is to Jesus Christ. You can’t become a hero without Him. My father will tell you, “Live for Jesus, He makes life worth living!” Choose to leave a godly legacy, that’s what heroes do! Chapter Seven

Finding the Hero in You

Those who fear the LORD are secure; he will be a refuge for their children. Proverbs 14:24

Inside all of us is a hero waiting to come out. Do you believe that? I do! I believe that you can make a difference with your life and leave a blessing to the thousandth generation. My father always told me that I could do anything I set my mind too, so I will tell you the same. I hope that you have been inspired from the lessons I have shared with you of the blessings my father has left behind. I hope that you are now ready to both stay the course and be the hero, or that you are ready to make decisions that will change your destiny.

Several years ago I was invited to Dallas to meet with a publishing company about a project on spiritual transformation. While I waited for my flight, I sat in the concourse and struck up a conversation with a man seated across from me. We talked about the usual things you would talk to a stranger about. I asked him, “What do you do for a living”? He responded, “I am a marine biologist, and I am going to Paris to give a lecture on shrimp farming.” I was a little taken aback. I have never met a marine biologist, nor had I heard of shrimp farming. So I leaned in for more information. “How do you farm shrimp”? I asked. “Well, it is easy. You get the water right and the shrimp do the rest,” he said. I am sure there was far more to it than that simple explanation, but I could tell that my intelligence could only bear his response. His simple answer rolled around in my mind, “Get the water right, and the shrimp take care of themselves.” I thought about that theory pertaining to people coming to God instead of shrimp coming to the farmer. I realized that becoming a hero is about “getting the water right” for God. What does that mean? It means that we must have an environment that leads us to become what we were meant to be. Looking at my father’s life, I see he made decisions along the way that created the “right water,” so he could live the life he led. He created an environment in his life that allowed for God to flourish and shine through him. As I stated earlier, I don’t think my dad woke up one morning and decided to be a hero. I am sure he didn’t see himself as a hero, but he was. He was a hero because he connected with Jesus Christ. Even though my dad was exposed to religion at a young age, he had to decide to surrender to the Lordship of Christ. This was a personal decision that made all the difference in the course of his life. The Holy Spirit’s push through Charlie Cook and the Belgian snow prompted my dad to make a personal choice to surrender his life to Jesus Christ. The decision to follow Christ is not one you just fall into but must be made intentionally.

Many times I ask people about their relationship with God, and they tell me about what church they attend. Attending a church doesn’t make you right with God. It helps, you need a church family, but a church family alone is not enough. It is not what you show up to that makes a difference; it is what shows up IN you. I can stand in a barn, but that doesn’t make me a horse. Connecting with God is a decision that leads to commitment. It gets your water right. That one- time decision allows God to begin His work on your character. This might be a hard concept to grasp, or you might think that this is too simple. I can understand your struggle. We come into this world hard wired to be our own boss. We want what we want when we want it. We want to be our own god and if we have a god it is one we create on our own terms. The Bible calls this attitude sin. Sin is the attitude that I can be god. This is the oldest lie in the world. You can’t be god. You don’t know enough, are not powerful enough, nor can you be everywhere at once. In our arrogance and pride we fool ourselves into thinking we can be god. You are a lousy god. We can even think that God is too narrow or unfair by making Jesus the only way to Him. The truth is, God is being the most inclusive through Jesus. God invites anyone to Himself, regardless of his or her past behavior or future performance. No other religion makes such claims. All other belief systems make you earn righteousness by what you do or the rituals you keep. Righteousness with God can’t be earned, but it is received by faith. When Jesus Christ died on the cross He made connecting with God possible. When He died, He paid the price of our sins and proved through His resurrection that He alone is God. God is the only one who can be in control of you, forgive you, and make you right with Him. God wants you to personally accept Him into your life by faith and allow Him to be your God. He will never force you, but He is after you! When my dad connected with God in the Belgian snow, he set into motion God’s great plan for his life. God wants the same for you! Let Him!

My dad not only connected with God, he connected with people. Throughout his life, he built relationships with people who loved him and loved God. This soul-level connection gave him the support and encouragement he needed to be a hero. Connecting with people is very difficult. People will hurt you, disappoint you, and bring problems. However, you need them. Remember, every one is normal until you get to know them. My dad made these connections through his local church. In the last years of his life, he was exposed to new ways of experiencing church. The new ways are really a return to God’s original design for the church to be “people” not a building, location, or ritual. My dad grew up in an era that made church about attendance and the location of its building. He knew that God’s word had a far different view of church. He embraced this return to the biblical view of church by forming a small group in his home. Once a week, people who loved him, each other, and God gathered to pray, eat, study God’s word, and be family to each other. My dad didn’t only have this small group connection. He was also part of a local church family and was connected in the same church family for over 45 years. He was committed to his pastor and God’s people in that local expression of the church. When I started the new church in Tallahassee, he connected with me as his pastor and supported this new church with his prayers and financial support. Heroes connect. They connect with God and with people. When you realize that life is not about you, it is about God, then connecting becomes natural and normal. What is keeping you from connecting? Is it pride, shame, secrets, false views of God, stubbornness, selfishness, past pain? What?

It is time to make the decision to connect. Start with God. He is waiting with open arms. No matter what you have done or what you have become, God is ready to accept you. You can say, “I don’t know enough.” So what! You can say, “I am scared of what God may do to me or where he might send me.” Okay! You might have several excuses. God knows them all, and He is the one who is drawing you to himself. All you have to do is ask Him, and He will move into your life. This is the biggest and most important step you can make. This decision launches the hero in you. Once you have made the decision, then connect with God’s people. Find a small group, a church family, a place and people for your soul. A person without a spiritual connection is an orphan. Heroes need people. You might think “I don’t need people; I can be a lone ranger.” Really? The Lone Ranger wore a tight light blue jump suit, hung out with an Indian friend whose name means stupid, loved his horse more than any person, and never stuck around long enough to build any lasting relationship. The Lone Ranger sounds like a kook to me. Heroes need people.

Heroes not only connect, they grow spiritually. I have a saying on my desk, “Growing old is natural, growing up is spiritual.” This is a true statement. If I live long enough, I will grow old. But growing up takes intentionality. How do I grow up spiritually? What has to be in my life to get the water right so I can grow? Here are several practical steps to get your water right. Read God’s word. Find a translation that makes sense and read it. As you read, ask God to let truths “pop out.” God will guide you and teach you as you read. Then pray. Praying is talking and listening to God. You can pray anytime and any place. I like to write out my prayers. It helps me concentrate. In the past I found that when I was praying my mind wandered and I could not focus. I would be trying to pray and my mind would be off shopping, problem solving, or sometimes I would fall asleep. By writing out my prayers, I stay focused. I can also go back and read what God has done in my life. It is amazing how God shows off His faithfulness when I read my prayers. Some people like to have a special place to pray. That’s a great plan. You might look for a special place. Some folks have a set time, great. Find what works for you and just pray. Then give. When we give our time, talents, and treasure, we grow. The object of growth is not knowledge, it is life change. I’ve watched my dad be a great giver and that inspires me. You can’t out-give God and giving grows you spiritually. Heroes serve. Throughout his life, my dad served God. He taught Bible studies, used his leadership gifts, and encouraged. I remember one time he even helped rebuild a roof on the church building, which was far from his natural abilities. Find your “sweet spot” and serve God by serving people. In Ephesians, Chapter 4 God’s word says that we are to be equipped to serve by our pastors. The words “to be equipped” means literally to be mended like mending a net for fishing. When we serve, we are useful, made whole, and grow spiritually. God promises it! You are never too young or too old to serve God. God knows the seasons of your life, and he has an assignment for you. God is amazing when it comes to using our lives. Often our greatest misery becomes our greatest ministry. If you look at the pain in your life you might find the very thing God is going to use to build others up. Remember, it is not about you! Serving God is a lifestyle not some appointed position. My dad had many appointed positions in the churches he attended, and that’s great. But my dad never waited for an appointment. He said, “Jesus, I am yours” and lived that way. I have never heard anyone regret serving God. The most miserable people I know are the ones who only want to be served. If you wait until you know enough or are good enough to serve, you will never serve. God uses the experience of serving to grow you quickly. God wants you serving throughout your life. Remember, this life is just preparation for heaven. Be a hero and serve. It keeps your water right. People come to Jesus best on the arm of a trusted friend. Be a hero by sharing the love of God with your family and friends. The most powerful story you have is about what God has done in your life. People are not looking for a theologian to explain God. They are looking for a friend to introduce them. I have watched my father build relationships with people and then tell them his God story. He did this because he loves God and loves people. This is a natural and normal part of a hero’s life. Some of his friends responded to God, some didn’t. Dad knows the results are God’s concern, not his. He just loved to tell people about the love of God. Sharing your God story should be natural. I believe that you have to earn the right to share Jesus over time. When the water is right in your life, people will want to know what is going on in you. Look for those God moments and share. Sharing is really about being on a life mission. Heroes are willing to leave the comfort of their culture to share the love of God. In Acts 1:8 Jesus says to be His witness where you live, to your culture, to a culture close by, and to the whole world. That means I must look for opportunities to follow Jesus’ command. I can do this by going, by giving, and by praying for those who go. Many times we would rather throw money at missions than be involved directly. God expects both. Be a hero; share the love of God. The hero within you is about making your life a living sacrifice to God. Can you become a hero without God? No, you might be a good person and even make a difference, but only God can make heroes. Only God can get the water right.

Take a look at where you are right now. I realize I have said this before, but do it again. What needs to change? Will you change? Every decision becomes a destination. You can make the decision to be a hero. I believe in you. You can do it. Others are counting on you to do it. This world needs a hero like you. I have had the privilege to travel the globe sharing the love of God. In every country and in every culture, I have met heroes. These heroes have the same things in common. They connect, they are growing, they serve, they share the love of God, and they devote themselves to God’s glory. Every hero made a decision to make a difference. The only thing standing between you and being a hero is a choice. Make the choice; be a hero. Then adjust your life. It is not how you start that matters, it is how you finish.

Now I stand at my dad’s grave. I grieve his absence, but I am grateful that I was able to live in presence for as long as I got a chance. I grew up with a hero as my guardian, teacher, and father, and I am grateful. He has inspired me to be a hero. I hope you too will become a hero, too.

As you conclude your reading you might be asking, why? Why did I take the time to share these thoughts? What is the big deal about being a hero? Everybody needs a hero. Why not be a hero to your family, to your friends, to your world? As I look around today, I see so much need and so few solutions. I have decided that God can use me to make a difference and all I have to do is allow Him. So I will. Join me, as I join God, because life is about Him. Be a hero! Chapter Eight

A Word to my Father

I see you standing in a sea of confusion with hands on hips looking content and controlled with all the world in view

I see you strong and courageous standing against the tide of division and strife, standing for God, standing for people, standing for what’s right

I see you seated on a car hood in the distant memories of my childhood, and seeing your presence, my courage and competitive nature rises

I see you stooped with age but neither bended nor bowed, still standing strong, standing firm

I see you holding my mother with tenderness and commitment while holding on to Jesus with dependence and conviction

I see you guiding and coaching me through trials and decisions that have made me a leader and are making me a man

I see your character that has been shaped by sacrifice and devotion

I see you as my father, my daddy, my mentor, my friend

I see you and with this vision I can see eternity

And through the years of seeing you I can see you in me

I love you Dad

Dad, I can never fully express my love and gratitude for you. You have been my inspiration. From the time I was little, I wanted to be like you. As I have grown, what I have discovered is that you were longing to be like Jesus. I know you stand on the shoulders of other heroes like Mawmaw and Pawpaw Causey, your mother and father, your grandfather, Charlie Cook, Cliff Winsted, your brothers, my mother, and so many more. You will never fully realize the difference you have made in the lives of countless children, teachers, parents, church folks, pastors, and so many others. Mostly, you have made a difference in your children and grandchildren. I know that your deepest passion is to honor and serve the Lord. I am sure when you walk through the gates of glory; you will hear the words “well done good and faithful servant, enter into your rest.” On that great day, you will fully realize what a hero you are and you will continue to be. My children are blessed through you, and their children to the thousandth generation. My prayer is that I will grow to be a hero like you. I have decided to follow you as you follow Christ.