The Responsibilities of Raising Children Right

Train up a child in the way he should go,

and when he is old he will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6, NKJV

I have three sons.  They are each their own man, so to speak, with distinct and different personalities, desires, and tendencies.  They are also still in development, and therefore still my responsibility.

My greatest desire as a father is that my sons will grow up to love the Lord Jesus Christ with all their hearts, minds, and souls, just as their mother and I do, just as their grandparents have and still do.  My greatest fear as a father is that I will fail to impart to them the necessary training and discipline they need to become men of God.

I am not a perfect man.  I wish I were, but the truth is I am all too human, and though saved I am sometimes all to fleshly to be able to say to my sons, "I want you to be exactly like me."  Hypocritical as it may sound, there are times when I would rather they obey what I say rather than imitate what I do.  I'm not a bad man.  I'm not living a double life, one way in front of the world and another in front of my boys.  But I acknowledge there are things I say and do that I don't want repeated in them.

Perhaps this is the constant struggle of all parents.  We want our kids to be the best they can possibly be, to do better and have more than we did.  We want them to triumph where we stumbled, to succeed where we failed.  We want them to exceed our highest expectations.  Before becoming a father at age forty, I held some pretty lofty ideals about child-rearing.  My children would never...and you can fill in the blank here!  Surely I'm not the only pre-parent to think that mine were never going to do what every child does.  Now with a few years of parenthood under my belt, I have met face to face with the grim specter of reality.  The only thing I will say about that is this:  raising kids is not for the faint of heart.

It takes courage, and strength, and wisdom, and grace, and those things in far more abundance than your personal resources will afford you.  It will cost you dearly and deeply, and will do so on a daily basis from now until your days are done.  It will drain you, exhaust you, frustrate you, grieve you.  But it will also reward you.  It will fill your life with endless memories of laughter and fun.  It will bring you joys that outweigh the sorrows, pride that surpasses the pain.  You will experience love like you have never known nor understood until it comes upon you at the most unexpected of times.

At least, that is my hope.

Right now, my boys are young.  They are still learning to talk right and walk straight.  Two years ago, my oldest made a clear confession of faith in Jesus Christ, based upon the instruction he had received from us, from his grandparents, from his Sunday School teachers.  He asked the Lord to forgive his sins--minor though they may have been--and to come into his life, to be his Savior.  I had the honor of baptizing him in water.  He is curious about deeper spiritual things, experiences that can be had in this Christian walk.  He can pray with child-like faith and see those prayers answered.  He sings songs of worship.  He carries his Bible around and tries to read it.  Last summer, during 24 hours at kids camp, he boldly proclaimed that God told him he was going to be a preacher.  And his constant question is, "When can I preach?"  The other day, I made what I thought was a general statement to him, something I think we big people can take for granted.  I said to him, "God has a plan for you life."

His response was classically him:  "What is it?"

"We'll find out together," I said.

More than a week later, he is still asking me, "Daddy, do you know the plan yet?"

I tried to give him some universal highpoints regarding the universal plan  of God, but he's not interested in generalities.  He wants specifics!  And even if I was confident in what I think the plan of God is for His life, I have at least have some God-guided discretion.  It's not my place to say, "Son, God wants to be such-and-such and do thus-and-so with the rest of your life."  He's six, after all, and there is plenty of time for Him to seek the Lord for Himself and find out what it is that God wants him to do.

In the meantime, I have a serious responsibility.  I have the divinely appointed task of raising these boys right.

How do I do that?

First and foremost, I must pass my faith along.  I must instill in them the faith experienced by me and their mother when we were young, and I need to see it done while they themselves are young.

I must teach them to love and appreciate the word of the Lord, the ways of the Lord, the work of the Lord, the worship of the Lord.

I must teach them the righteousness of God, that there is a right way and a wrong way, right actions and wrong actions, right beliefs and wrong beliefs.  Then I must teach them how to tell the difference between the two, and how to choose right over wrong, good over bad.

I must correct them when they disobey, just as my Father in heaven corrects me when I disobey.  

I must live out in front of them the life of faith and righteousness that I tell them they should have, showing them by word and by deed the way they should go.

And then I must trust the Lord to bring a good harvest from the seed I have sown, to touch their hearts as He touched mine a long time ago, to draw my precious boys to himself.  I can't make them believe in Him, I can't make them serve Him, but I can certainly show them the way.  And though I can't make them live for the Lord, I refuse to let them live for the devil.  

In brief, these are my responsibilities as I understand them.  Jesus, help me to carry them out, and do it well!

Moses: Have Your House in Order

A bishop then must be...one who rules his own house well,

having his children in submission with all reverence

(for if a man does not know how to rule his own house,

how will he take care of the church of God?);

1 Timothy 3:2, 4-5, NKJV

And it came to pass on the way, at the encampment,

that the LORD met [Moses] and sought to kill him...

Exodus 4:24, NKJV

To me, this is one of the stranger stories in the Bible.  God calls Moses to go to Egypt to deliver Israel out of slavery and the affliction of Pharaoh's hand.  Moses obeys, packs up his wife and kids, and starts down the road, but when they stop to camp for the night, God shows up intending to kill Moses.  Seeking to avert the disaster, Moses' wife Zipporah grabs a sharp rock and with it circumcises their son.  Hurling the bloody skin at Moses' feet, she declares, "You are a husband of blood!"  But God was satisfied by the action and turns His wrath away.

It's a story that has often left me scratching my head in bewilderment.  What was that all about?

Four hundred and some years earlier, God made a covenant with the patriarch Abraham, Moses' great-great-great-great grandfather.  God passed through the sacrifice of animals as a smoking furnace and a burning lamp, taking the responsibilities of upholding the covenant upon Himself.  As for Abraham, God instructed him thusly:  You, your sons, your servants and their sons, and all male children born to you from this time forth and forevermore will be circumcised.  This will be a sign in your flesh of the everlasting covenant. Abraham was ninety-nine years old when he cut his own flesh, and that of his sons and servants, but God's command was for this to be done to every infant boy on the eighth day after birth.  Failure to do so would be a breach of covenant and result in permanent separation from God.

Undoubtedly, Moses himself was circumcised on the eighth day by his father Amram.  As a descendant of Abraham, surely Jethro knew about and practiced the ritual circumcision.  It is possible that the Midianites were influenced by their kinsmen the Ishmaelites to circumcise at age thirteen--the age of Ishmael when he was cut into the covenant.  Or perhaps Zipporah had resisted the bloody ordinance.  Or maybe Moses had grown lax in his aged exile, or had not fully understood the implications of breaking the aged covenant of his people with their God.  Regardless of the reason, Moses had failed in his fatherly duties by leaving his son uncircumcised and therefore separated from that special covenant relationship with God.  When God shows up, Zipporah had to remedy the situation on her own, and it apparently made her mad to do so.  This also seems to be when Moses decided the trip was too much to take with his family and he sent them back to Jethro's tent while he continued on his way.  They would be reunited later, but for now this was to be a solitary journey.

So what's the point?

I think we find it illustrated throughout Scripture, but so plainly stated by the Apostle Paul in his instructions to Timothy regarding church leadership.  If a man wants to lead in the church, he must first have his own household in order.  Paul has a lot to say about a husband's love for his wife, a wife's submission to her husband, and children's obedience to their parents.  A man whose children are unruly and disrespectful, who won't correct them and teach them to do right, whose family life is in disarray, disqualifies himself from being able to lead others anywhere.

Moses was a great man of God, a great leader of God's people, a great prophet unequaled in Israel until Jesus came.  But at the beginning of his service to the Lord, there were some things that needed to be set in order.  He needed to obey the covenant instituted by God with his fathers, his people, and himself.  Circumcising his sons would have been an absolute necessity.  It's interesting to note that in spite of this little demonstration, during the forty years in the wilderness none of the boys born to the Children of Israel were circumcised.  It was something Joshua had to do en masse after they crossed the Jordan into Canaan.  Additionally, Moses' grandson Jonathan was partially responsible for Israel's initial idolatry during the time of the judges.  However great and good Moses was, it didn't transfer into everything he put his hand to, including his descendants.

But in this failure, Moses is not alone.

Adam and Eve raised Cain, the world's first murderer and an ungodly man.

Seth and Enos called on the name of the Lord, and Enoch walked with God, yet these righteous men were the progenitors of the people who perished in the flood.

Noah raised three sons, but Ham was a disrespectful fool who brought a curse upon his own descendants.

Lot was a just man vexed by the sins of Sodom, but his daughters were wretched heathens with no sense of decency or morality.

Isaac was the son of promise, but neither of his sons were saints.

Jacob wrestled with the Lord and prevailed, but raised a houseful of heathens who thought nothing of lying, stealing, fornicating, and murder.

Aaron, Moses' brother and the first High Priest of Israel, had four sons called into the priesthood with him, but two were struck dead for drunken revelry in the presence of the Lord.

Eli the Priest mentored Samuel into ministry, but failed with his own sons.

Samuel discipled two kings, but his own sons did not walk in his ways.

David was a man after God's own heart, but not one of his storied sons had the same relationship with the Lord.

Mary the mother of the Lord raised four other sons who did not believe...until after the Resurrection.

God used each of these people in spite of their wayward children, but that does not diminish the importance of ruling your own household well.  It doesn't negate the necessity of raising your children in the training and admonition of the Lord.  It doesn't allow us to abdicate our God-given responsibilities to teach our children right.  And even when parents do everything right, that magnum opus of ours still has a mind of his own, and oft times they will choose to do wrong when doing right would be best for them!  

Having your house in order is a must for the servant of God.  A slothful personal life, a lack of commitment to one's responsibilities, a failure to lead and shepherd one's family well...these will destroy a ministry.  A slack hand in raising and a refusal to discipline one's children will destroy a legacy.  And a child left to himself will bring shame upon his parents with his unchecked behavior.

So let the man and woman of God do their best with what has been entrusted to their care, tending to their family first, and after that the ministry.  If we are faithful and do our best, God will be faithful and do the rest.

Saying Yes

I don't know that I've ever told God, "No."

I've objected, like Moses.  I've given Him reasons and excuses, told Him I didn't want to do what He wanted of me.  I've tried to bargain with God, promising Him things He didn't ask for in order to get out of what He did ask for.  I've resisted.  I've sometimes been slow in responding.  But reviewing my life after forty years of serving Him, I think I'm safe in saying I've never outright said, "No."

Because I learned early on that it was much easier, and much better for me, if I just said, "Yes."

Eighteen years ago, I was in a bad way.  Certain circumstances in my life had soured, and I was looking for a way out.  In fact, as I sought counsel from friends and family, from mentors and peers, I universally received the answer I was looking for.  "Get out," they all said.  "We'll help you in every way that we can, but get out!"  That was the easy route, the way to get maximum relief with minimum effort.  I was ready.  I drew the proverbial line in the sand.  I declared, this far and no farther!  I prepared myself in every way that I could, bracing for the impact of my decision.  And then God spoke.

I was in my devotions one day, reading the Scriptures and praying.  To be honest, I've forgotten what passage it was, but I think it was in the Psalms somewhere.  Perhaps it was just the Word I needed for that particular day, and I didn't have to go back later to remind myself.  I knew what God had said.  I fell on my knees under my desk and cried out to God to confirm in my heart what my eyes had just read.  And the voice I was so familiar with, which I had heard and whose command I had followed on many occasions before, gave me the answer I didn't want to hear.  "Stay," He said.  "You can't leave."

So against all advice, I steeled myself against what was to come.  I made one phone call to the person I trusted most in the world and asked them to pray with me.  I believed if just one person would agree with me in prayer, my circumstances would change, my conflict would be resolved, everything in my life would be right once more.  And I stayed.  I said, "Yes," to the Lord.

Can I tell you, my circumstances didn't change.  The conflict was not resolved.  Mostly it retreated to a place of quiet contention that I accepted as part of God's will for my life.  I lived in my situation for eight more years before God moved in a way to finally deliver me out of Egypt.  And when it was all over, I asked the Lord, "What was that about?  Why didn't you get me out of this when I actually wanted out?"

And with the tenderness of an all-knowing and ever-loving God, He said, "I needed someone to stay."  No pat on the back, no sticker in my book, no "well done thou good and faithful servant."  Just the acknowledgement that I had done what He wanted me to do.

I fantasized as a child about being some great missionary doctor, holding crusades in Africa where thousands were miraculously healed by the power invested in my hands.  But when the reality of God's call set in, I knew immediately and completely what God wanted me to do.  He wanted me to be a pastor.  But it went beyond that.  I knew in my heart that I would be raised up under my Dad's ministry, work with him in a church, and eventually succeed him as pastor.  That's when I was twelve.  At twenty-three, that vision was fulfilled.  After twenty months of serving in ministry with my dad, our district asked him to take over a church in a really bad situation, I became the pastor of my home church.

It was a great experience.  We had revival for four years.  But before I ever became the pastor of my first church, God had shown me another church and told me I would pastor there.  So when the time came for transition, I was ready.  I knew what I was supposed to do.  I made a couple of phone calls, submitted a resume, preached my heart out to a wonderful group of Pentecostal patriarchs, and found myself elected to what I thought was going to be another wave of revival in a new place.  That could not have been farther from the truth.

Without going into detail, let me summarize by saying that my second church died on my watch.  Literally.  I sent some of the sweetest saints I've ever known to heaven, and watch many of the best folks I've ever pastored move off to live with their kids.  I was heartbroken, devastated, shell shocked.  And after two years of that, with a church in shambles and me thinking my ministry was a complete and utter failure, I got my resume together and started looking for places to send it.  But God wouldn't let me.  It's not that He told me no, exactly.  But every time I had the perfect place picked out for my future, I would get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.  If I didn't respond, uneasiness turned to queasiness, and if that still didn't get my attention, I would wind up in bed for days wrestling with gut-wrenching illness...until I tore up my resume and renewed my commitment to stay.

For five years, I begged God to let me leave that church, but God's only answer was ever, "Stay.  You can't leave."  Finally, one day in great desperation, I spouted off to the Lord, "Fine, I'll stay!  But you have to tell me why."  Let me tell you something I've learned from repeated personal experience, if you're going to ask the Almighty for His reason, you better be prepared to accept it.  With the tenderness of an all-knowing and ever-loving God, He said, "I need someone who will stay."  Staying with things, that's me alright.  I was down on my knees in the dirt of my front yard pulling weeds in hopes that one day grass would grow (it never did).  I bowed my dirty, tear-streaked face and nodded my head in quiet submission.  And I stayed.

Two years later, things had turned around.  The church was growing again, the finances were good, new leadership had been raised up.  I was looking forward to a long and fruitful ministry there.  And that's when God said, "Okay, now you can leave."  So I did.

It was easy to let go.  I had done what God put me there to do.  And while we were rebuilding a congregation, God had been preparing me for what was next.  By then I had spent thirteen years in full-time pastoral ministry.  I was starting to get the hang of it.  I was finally figuring things out.  But God really messed with me that day in the dirt.  I agreed to stay when I wanted to leave, but God started that day to prepare me for the next phase of ministry--the evangelistic field.

"No way," was my first response.  And I had good reasons.  I don't like driving that much.  I don't like being cooped in a car that much.  I don't like being alone that much.  I like seeing the same faces of a familiar crowd Sunday after Sunday.  I like my own house and my own bed.  I don't want to live out of a suitcase in a hotel room.  I spent a year making excuses, and when I got to the end of my reasoning with God, He asked me, "And are you going to go anyway?"

Your already know my answer.

I could tell you many more stories.  I could tell you that I spent three years traveling the length and breadth of this nation, preaching in all kinds of churches in all kinds of places, and I saw some good results.  During that time I walked through one of the darkest periods of my life, but did so with the light of God on my face and came through better off for my faithfulness to God and His Word.  A couple of churches wanted me to be their pastor, but as kindly as I could I told them no.  I knew I was doing what I was supposed to do.  Then the day came when I knew God was preparing me for what was next, to pastor again.  I was praying about where and when and how, thinking I might be better off to start a church where I was living, when one morning He wakes me up and His direction was clear.  After two years of telling a particular church, "No," I was able to pick up the phone, dial the number, and tell them that God's answer was finally, "Yes," and so was mine.

I could tell you that after a year and a half, God released me from that assignment, but I was so ingrained to stay that I failed to listen and respond immediately.  I could not accept that after only eighteen months God was finished with me there.  A year later, a missionary who I greatly respect gave me a prophetic word, not just about the church, but also about a personal matter in my life.  It confirmed what God had been trying to tell me in both cases.  I said, "Yes" to the first and resigned my church.  I had to spend another twelve very frustrated months wrestling with the other matter until I was finally ready to give that up as well.  And all the while I was hesitating to respond to God's direction, my life was in a holding pattern, circling the runway and circling again, and again, and again.  Nothing was working out.  Nothing was going right.

Until I said, "Yes."

One more story, and then I'm done.  It was during those twelve months of waiting that I began preaching at this little church in East Texas.  I was just pulpit supply, ministering occasionally to this congregation because a friend had recommended me, trying to be a blessing to them while they searched for their new pastor.  On day one, they asked me to stay.  And I said, "No."  God hadn't said anything to me about pastoring them.  I preached there again, and they asked me to stay.  And I said, "No."  I still hadn't heard from God.  The third time I preached there, I was convinced it would be my last because they had selected a pastoral candidate to be voted upon.  I would never see those people again.  I wasn't happy about that, but I was happy they were getting a good pastor.  And then God began to deal with me about that church.  He began to fill my heart with words for them, messages they needed to hear.  He gave me a heart for them, and I kept reminding God, "They're about to have a pastor."  I shouldn't have been surprised when they called me again.  They hadn't elected a pastor.  They needed someone to come preach.  Was I available?

"Yes."

That answer changed my life.  I was elected by unanimous consent to a permanent term of office, the first time in my life for both.  Within days, all of the prayers I had been praying, the petitions I had been making, began to be answered.  I let go of my dreams for one way of life, and found God's blessing shining clearly upon another.  I said "Yes" to Lord, and I've never been happier.

Moses: Objections to the Call

But Moses said to God, "Who am I

that I should go to Pharaoh,

and that I should bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?"

Exodus 3:11, NKJV

Whatever Moses might have been in his past, whatever education he had, whatever training he had received, whatever position he had been groomed for, those days were long gone.  He was a fugitive, an exile in a desert land, an eighty-year-old man working for his father-in-law with no other ambition, and a heartache that told him he had wasted all his potential and was past his prime.  He was troubled by the affliction of his people, but considered himself powerless to do anything about it.  And then one day while watching his flock of sheep, he sees a mysterious thing--a fire on the mountainside that burns but does not consume.

He approaches the bush, probably with more than a little trepidation, marveling at the shrub that survived the inferno, when from within the blazing glory the Angel of the Lord--what Biblical scholars consider the pre-incarnate Christ--appeared and speaks his name.  We are not told what that voice sounded like.  My technicolor imagination fills in the information gap with a deep, bassy vibrato that is felt on the flesh and within the heart, a low rumbling thunder of sound and sensation that makes the skin prickle and the hair stand on end, a commanding breath of energy and power that stops you in your tracks and draws all your attention upon it.

It called to him, "Moses, Moses!"

And he said, "Here I am."

"Don't come any closer!  In fact, take your shoes off to honor my presence, for the ground upon which you stand is holy." (a slight paraphrase)  Moses didn't ask, but the voice answered anyway, "I am the God of your father--the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (I think you've heard of them--and me)."

Moses hid his face, afraid to look upon God, but there was no way to block out the sound of that voice.  Perhaps cowering on the ground with his cloak wrapped up over his head, trembling and terrified that any moment might be his last, Moses might have asked himself, "Why has God come to speak to me?"  Perhaps this was the day of reckoning, the day that he answered for his crimes, for his sins.  Perhaps God had come at last to collect payment for the life Moses had taken, and the time he had lost.  Perhaps this was the end.  And it some ways it was.  God was giving Moses a new job, an assignment, a commission to fulfill His sovereign will for Moses' life and the lives of numberless others.

"I have seen the oppression of my people and I've heard their cry.  Now I'm going to do something about it.  I have come down to deliver them from Egypt and bring them to their Promised Land.  Now come with me, you're going to lead them!"

Now Moses recovered enough control over his faculties to think, and to speak.  He'd tried once, with the strength of his arm and blade, to help Israel.  He had failed.  He'd spent decades bemoaning his failure, growing more melancholy with each passing day.  He even wrote a song about it, convinced that he had nothing left to give and might as well die.  In his eightieth year of life and fortieth year of exile, this was not the message Moses had expected, nor was it a message he was ready and willing to receive.  In fact, as he considered the Lord's request, his heartfelt objections came to mind.  And he expressed them.

"Who am I to go to Pharaoh?  Who am I to bring Israel out of Egypt?"  I'm nobody.  I'm a washed up old has been.  I've known nothing but sheep for forty years.  God, you want a warrior-prince full of vim, vigor, and vitality.  You don't want me.

O yes I do!  "I will be with you, and when you have brought them out of Egypt, you will come back here and serve Me on this mountain."  In other words, when My will has been fulfilled, I'm bring you back to the place where I called and you objected, just to show you I knew what I was doing.  Even if you didn't."

"But God," Moses continues.  "They're going to want to know Your Name?  What am I supposed to tell them?"  What credentials do I have?  What experience?  I don't even know how to address you properly.  They're going to want to know how I know that I'm called, how I know that I've been sent.  What if they have no confidence in my leadership abilities.  What if they reject me."

"You tell them I AM.  Tell them the God who is everything they need whenever they need me is the one who appeared to you and called you and sent you and will use you.  Tell them the same God that called Abraham out of Ur and promised him Canaan is the God who has sent you.  Tell them the God who sustained Isaac and provided for Jacob and preserved Joseph and protected the children of Israel is the God who has sent you.  They'll follow you then.  And that's when you'll all go to Pharaoh."

Sounds easy right?  I can just hear Moses mumbling to himself.  I'll just go back to my Israelite people and say, "I'm back, follow me!"  I'll march right into the palace that used to be my home and face the son of the man who wanted me dead and tell him God said...and poof, that will be enough!  Yeah, right...

As if in response to Moses inner musings, God said to Moses, "That's exactly what you're going to do.  And when he does not listen to you, when he does not do what I have told you to tell him to do, when he does not honor my will, I'm going to strike mighty Egypt with my Almighty Hand, and they're going to pay you to leave!"

"But God," Moses objected again, "What if they don't believe me?  What if they won't listen?  What if they say You didn't appear to me?"  I don't think I can take that kind of rejection!

God was not daunted by Moses' delays.  He gave Moses three signs in rapid succession that would prove Moses had both been with God and was sent by God.  First was the shepherd's rod that transformed into a snake and back again.  Second was the healthy hand turned leprous and then made whole again.  Third was the pitcher of water turned miraculously to blood.  "They'll believe you have seen me after you do these things!"

"But God," Moses objected again, and I can hear the comic stutter some preachers employ to emphasize Moses confessed ineloquence, "Bu-bu-bu-bu-but G-g-g-g-g-, but God!  I'm not eloquent.  I'm slow of speech and slow of tongue."  I don't talk good.  Listen to me stutter.  How can I talk to Pharaoh, I can't even talk to you.  Much.

"I made that mouth," God replied.  "I made it, and I'm going to use it.  I'm going to fill it with words and teach you what to say."

"But God!" And this was Moses' final objection, "Can't you just, you know, send somebody else."  I don't want to go.  I'm not good enough.  I don't have the skills.  I'm really uncomfortable with the call.  I'm afraid of this assignment.  I've heard all you've said, and I know who you are and what you can do, but please Please PLEASE can't you just send someone else.  Besides me.

The Bible says the anger of the LORD was kindled against Moses.  I have to wonder.  Did the burning bush blaze brighter?  Did the fire burn hotter?  Did God raise His voice to Moses' resistance?  Almost in exasperation, if God can be exasperated, God said to Moses, "Fine.  This is what I'm going to do.  Your brother Aaron can speak well.  I'm going to make him your assistant, your spokesman, and I'm going to tell you what to say and do, and you're going to tell him, and he's going to do it.  Now go to meet him, and take your stick with you.  We're going to need that stick."

So Moses went...

Have you ever argued with God about what He's asked you to do?  I can tell you from personal experience that it doesn't do any good.  When you get through your list of objections, complaints, and questions, when you've expressed all your doubts and fears, when you've told God all the reasons that He's wrong and you can't possible do what He's asked you to do (as if He was giving you a choice to begin with), God comes back with a simple reply.

"I hear what you're saying, and I'm able to work with that.   You're the man (or woman) for the job, and I don't care how you feel about it, I still want you.  Now what are you going to do?"

My answer was always like Moses.  "Yes, of course, Lord.  How can I say no?"