There was no coaxing from dad as you can see his clothes are on the floor where he left them. I walked into the room with my sword and found him waiting to play with nothing but his sword and armor.
I am glad Mariah got a picture. I pray he never loses this mindset. I pray the only "thing" that he desires in this world is to wield his sword well. A sword that I have passed on to him. Much like Mr Valiant-for-truth says in the Pilgrim's Progress, "my sword I give to him that succeeds me, and my courage to him that can get it. My scars I carry with me as my witness that I have fought the Lords battles."
The imagery of those words to me are what it means to be a daddy. I work everyday to teach the kids how to wield a sword. I pray they always use it well and humbly. Never to be twisted and used against them. Of course the sword I speak of is the word of God. The standard by which they should judge everything. It is that sword I will teach them to use and pray they never depart from it.
It is this burden of instruction that keeps me up at night. It is this burden that defines parenting. We will never perfectly instruct them but if we teach them that we are not the standard. Point to the perfect standard, the perfect father, model repentance, and then rest in the fact we are only called to be faithful not perfect.
All of it is a gift. From the kids to salvation we have done nothing to deserve it. A gift! I am so greatly burdened by the responsibility. Yet at peace. Not with my own faithfulness for that will always falter, but his faithfulness and sovereignty. For that sustains me.
A burden and a peace I look forward to passing on to the kids.
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