Though Dad was a pastor of a large metropolitan church, a pulpit was unnecessary. As a teen, I plopped down on the living room floor in front of his recliner to ask questions that seemed bigger than life. He listened calmly and guided me gently, not knowing he was quietly training a future pastor’s wife. Dad is in heaven now. The recliner is gone. But the lessons remain unchanged.
His snippets of wisdom set a sturdy foundation for my life. The lessons gave me an extraordinary perspective for the ordinary days, and gave me something to grasp when tragedy struck.
Some of those I most remember are:
1. You don’t know how high you can jump until you start jumping.
If you stay put, things may stay the same; but if you aim for the high bar, you’ll often gain ground in the process. You may discover a new ability, a new relationship, and a new level of trust in God.
Run in such a way as to get the prize (I Cor. 9:24).
2. Make the right decisions in the little things and you’ll be in the right place for the big decisions.
A single step leads to a path; a path leads to a place. Little decisions are important, like the choice to respond with respect and compassion when you feel like attacking, or the choice to spend time in prayer when you only have a minute.
In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight (Prov. 3:6).
3. Be ready to leave, but plan to stay.
Every year the church voted on whether Dad would remain as their pastor. One night when I was old enough to realize what a “no” vote would mean to us, I asked him what in the world we would do. He calmly answered, “I’m ready to leave, but I’m planning to stay.” As it turned out, he was pastor of that church for 61 years, setting a stellar example of faithfulness.
As ambassadors of Christ, we should be ready and willing for God to use us wherever needed. Until God changes our assignment, our devotion should remain unchanged whether every pew is filled or only a handful come.
I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances (Phil. 4:11).
4. God has yet greater things for His people.
Dad put this statement on the bottom of the church’s letterhead. It was his closing encouragement in many counseling sessions. It was the last sentence of his last sermon. He believed it and lived it.
No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him (1 Cor. 2:9).
