While I served as a pastor I often encouraged fathers on their potential impact in my sermons, saying of Dad that, ‘Everything I learned of significance in life I learned from him.’ Dad taught with words and by example. And describing his effect on my life, I added, “He taught me how to love one woman, mow a yard, finish what you started, love unconditionally, tell a story, sing a song, laugh at myself, that it's OK to cry, to not be afraid of starting over, and to not quit.” When people heard me say these things they might have considered them generalizations, but the opposite was true, they were on point and life-changing realities I saw every day. By ‘love one woman’ I meant Dad showed the beauty and benefit of being faithful to your wife. He loved Mom with passion and fidelity regularly showing affection in front of us kids by giving her tender ‘pats’ and kisses. I never saw Dad look at other women the way he looked at Mom. By ‘mow a yard’ I meant, Dad taught me how to do a job well and right, which included changing the direction of your mower cut each week, cleaning your equipment after finishing, and making sure the same was prepped and ready for the next week's use. By ‘finishing what you start,’ I meant Dad taught that signing up to play, even if you never got off the bench, meant showing up for every practice and keeping your head and heart in every game. And by this dictum he likely did more to prepare me for life as a pastor than anything else as I regularly ‘stood in the wings’ or ‘preached’ from the ‘prompter’s box’ (the pulpit) to encourage and fan the flame of God’s love, grace and calling in others.
Dad was orphaned when just a boy. As the youngest child of 13, His mother died when he was 5 and his father when he was 8. This necessitated his having to live in the homes of his older siblings, and eventually settling in with his sister, Mont, and her husband, Bill Miller. Bill and Mont were farmers just outside of Celina Texas, not far from where Dad's parents had leased their own farmland. They had a daughter of their own, Billie Maurine, who was near Dad’s age and became like a sister to him. Dad loved Mont, Bill, and Billie, even though years later Mom confessed that one reason ‘family’ was so important to our Dad was that he wanted his children to never feel as if they were visitors and not part of one another. So, we were. All four of us, with me the eldest and sisters Pam, Kim, and younger brother David.
Dad worked hard, leaving home early in the morning long before any of us were up. And though returning home each night 'bone tired', we looked forward to seeing him knowing that after a bath and his changing into a fresh t-shirt and pair of khakis, he'd lay with us on the living room floor to wrestle and 'snuggle up'. Because of his work, Dad rarely attended any of my daytime activities, but he did see me hit my first home run. It was my only home run ever, and as I ran across home plate I headed straight for the fence where he stood to reach my fingers and hands out to touch his and ask, "Did you see that Dad? Did you see it?" His answer was direct. "Yes, son, I did. And I am proud of you." He would have said that to anything I did. But seeing me through the fence that day he knew what I most needed to hear, and gave it to me. Nothing more and, lovingly, nothing less.
The year I planted ParkwayHills Church I was blessed to be ordained by my home church in Dallas, where I was serving as Church Administrator. In keeping with the church’s custom, Dad was invited to participate in the time of ‘laying on of hands,' which is part of the ceremony and service. This is a solemn moment as ordained clergy, deacons, and others participate by placing their hands on the head or shoulders of a candidate to speak words of encouragement and pray God’s blessings over them. As I knelt at the altar Dad was the last to pass by. I could tell it was him by the smell of his Old Spice cologne and began to cry. He spoke tenderly and said, ‘Son, I want you to know I am more proud of you today than any other time in your life – even when you hit your first home run.’ I could sense his smile as I, attempting to speak through my tears, said, “Dad, I only hit one.” He didn't respond, but continued, “Listen to me!” I want you to commit that you will both preach the Word and love God's people.” Going on, he continued – ‘many preachers preach God’s word without loving His people. Others will love God's people but not have the courage to preach His word. But, if you do both you will never have to back up to your paycheck.” As he reached the end of this solemn dictum, I was blubbering. For I knew this man and what he meant by it all too well. He was telling me, in the best and only way he knew how by using language I had heard since childhood, to accomplish my ‘calling’ fully, to do it right, and to finish the job.
Pastor Sam
