My dad spent several years in the Army serving his country
in Germany. He also had a love of hunting. As a result of his experiences, I
grew up in a home where guns were not an unusual thing to see in the closet or
hanging in the back window of dad’s pickup truck. I did not grow up living in
fear because there were guns in our home. He taught us to be patriotic and to stand up
for our freedom and appreciate those people, who like himself, defend those
freedoms that we enjoy and even take for granted some times.
My dad made it a point to educate us kids on the dangers of
guns and what they should be used for… putting food on the table, bonding with
his kids while shooting pop cans, hunting squirrels, etc. He made it a point to
let us handle the guns in a safe and controlled way and therefore took away the
mystery of them so that we had no desire to play with them when it wasn’t an
appropriate time or place.
We had a lot
of fun doing these activities with him. My brothers spent most of the time with
him doing these activities, but occasionally I got to tag along. Jordon recalls
one time when he was about 13 or 14 years old. It was in the fall and he asked
dad if he could go shoot pop cans with the 22. Dad agreed so Jordon gathered up
the pop cans, his gun and shells and they headed up by the junk yard.
They were
shooting, having fun and enjoying the day when all of a sudden Jordon pulled
the trigger and heard a big echo. He quickly realized that he had shot the side
of the bed of the truck. He jumped inside the cab of the truck and locked the
doors. He feared a butt kicking that he thought for sure he would get.
To his
amazement, dad was outside laughing so hard at the way Jordon reacted that he
didn’t even care that he had just shot the side of the pick up! That is how he
was all of the time. He would always say, “We are just here to have fun and if
we didn’t have fun, we should have fun trying.”
Dad had a way
of letting you stew about a situation for a while before he talked to you about
something you had done wrong. More often than not, by the time he actually
talked to you about the situation, you had beat yourself up pretty badly all on
your own and he didn’t really need to say a word about the incident because you
had already given yourself a lecture on how stupid you had been and how you
would never do it again.
A great
example of this was another story that involved Jordon when he was about 11. We
had all gotten new bikes for Christmas and Jordon was always trying to ride
wheelies on his. Dad was always telling him to quit doing that because it
wasn’t good for the bike. He even threatened him by telling him if he caught
Jordon riding wheelies, Jordon was going to lose his bike.
One day
Jordon and Mike Willie were out on the town and of course they were riding
wheelies from 8th Street down to Lloyds and he passed dad coming
towards him. He knew instantly that he
was busted and didn’t want to go home to face the fact that he was going to
lose his bike. He hid out at Mike’s for the remainder of the day and even
skipped going home for dinner. Then to make everything worse, dad called over
there and asked if he could come home for a while because he had to talk to him
about something. Jordon was sure he knew what it was about and boy was he
scared! He took his time getting over to the house and when he got there dad
asked him if he would come into his bedroom and shut the door. By this time Jordon
was shaking with fear. Dad asked him to come sit on the bed with him (that was
his M.O… he played that card with me several times as well. When he did this,
you knew it was serious!!)
As Jordon
sat on the bed with his face hung towards the ground, he felt something under
the covers of his bed. He sat up and dad pulled back the covers and there sat a
new deer rifle. Jordon wasn’t sure if dad intended to shoot him with it or
what!! LOL!! Dad said he came across a good deal and couldn’t pass it up and
asked if it was all right that he took the money of Jordon’s savings account to
pay for it. Jordon never heard a word about riding wheelies on his bike until
the day the handle bars broke because of riding wheelies. So the old man knew
what he was talking about after all.
Many times growing up, I did similar things, got busted, beat myself up and then went back and did it again. Most times, I had punished myself much worse than he probably would have. I am so grateful for my
dad’s patience with me during these times in my life when he told me not to do
something and I did it anyway…and for his “silent” discipline. His quiet,
gentle way allowed me time to think about my mistakes and of the consequences
of my actions and many times I made a choice NOT to do something I knew was wrong simply because I didn’t want
to have him sit on the end of my bed and be disappointed in me. Even now, as an adult, I find myself making decisions based on not wanting to disappoint my dad. Those thoughts often take my mind to the bigger picture and think of what Heavenly Father thinks of my choices and decisions and how much I want to live my life in a way that doesn't disappoint Him. I don't want to find myself in Heaven sitting on the edge of a cloud with a loving Heavenly Father looking at me with disappointment in his eyes.
No comments:
New comments are not allowed.