A Picture of God's Love

Last weekend I had an opportunity to go home to PA. What made this trip different than any of my other trips? I’m glad you asked. Tom, my stepdad, has a birthday coming up in March. About a month or two ago, I came up with the idea to take him to a hockey game for his birthday. Why hockey? Neither of us are huge fans of hockey. When I was growing up, he would take me to see the Hershey Bears, our local semi-pro team, play every year. We would start the night by going to dinner at the restaurant of my choice. For the first several years, that turned out to be Friendly’s, where I would order multiple items on the menu and gorged myself for approximately an hour and left him with a bill that would be equal to a family of four. Then we would go to the game and watch the pucks and fists fly for three periods and then go home. It was some of my fondest childhood memories. Not because I got to eat like a pig or watch some guys prove their masculinity by beating the tar out of each other for an hour or so, but because I got to hang out with Tom. This was only one of the many things we did together. Most of my favorite times growing up were spent hanging out and just talking with Tom.

This is where I need to start changing my names. See, growing up through my high school years, I always called him Tom. I loved him like a dad, but looked at him like a stepdad. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with that and he didn’t mind. However, it during my freshman year, I had an epiphany (definition 3 in Merriam-Webster and The Oxford Dictionary). Why was I still calling him Tom after 15 years? He was the one who had raised me since I was three or four. Yes, my real father was and is still around. And yes, I love him as a father (I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him!). But Tom has been the person who has played the role of father for all of my life. Not only was he the one who provided my basic needs like food and shelter, but he had been the one to take me to the hockey and football games. He had been the one who endured sitting through the baseball and basketball games that I “played”. He was the one who taught me how to ride a bike and drive a car. He had been the one who made sure I got my homework done and grounded me when I lied about it. He was the one who helped me pay to go to a college that wouldn’t take student loans. He encouraged me to do better when I came home with bad grades and was there to praise me when I finally graduated. When I pulled my Magnum Opus of April Fool’s pranks and told him that I had been arrested on bench warrant for not paying a speeding ticket, the first thing he said was, “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be ok. We’ll help you take care of this somehow.” When I went through my first breakup, he was the one who took me out for a drive and tried to encourage me. He has always been there through all the good and all the bad.

With all of this on my mind, I had decided that when I went home for my first spring break, I would ask him a question. I was nervous asking. I even asked my mom if she thought he would mind and she was sure that he would be more than happy. When I asked him if I could call him Dad, I found out she was right. Then I thought to myself, “Why wouldn’t I call him dad?” And my mind began to race through all of the memories. The fun and games as well as the not so fun and the punishments. When I thought about Proverbs, he had been the one fulfilling of role it describes as father. It was a odd transition at first to call him dad. I think it was for him too. At first, it would take two or three times for him to respond to an 18 year old guy calling for him by the name Dad.

Since then I’ve had another epiphany. He has also been a picture of God’s love for me. Many people grow up with stepfathers who they just get along with and many others who they don’t like at all. Many people grow up with stepfathers who treat them like stepchildren. Dad was different. I was not his own child, but he took me in as if I was. I did nothing to deserve it. He would have been just to treat me as a stepchild; as merely an obligation because he married my mother. But he didn’t. I actually probably did more not to deserve it than I did to deserve it. Between both the ink incidents (a good story for another time), the constant hyper activity, the bad grades, bugging both my sisters and/or making them cry on very regular occasions, the car accidents, the speeding tickets, stealing money, lying right to his face, experimenting with smoking and drinking before I was legally allowed, sitting at a PSU football game (when I was younger of course!) with a blanket over my head repeating “They’re gonna lose. They’re gonna lose.”, being the only kid in the outfield sitting with his back to the game with his glove on his head, it really makes you wonder what was wrong with him that he was willing to claim me as his own. But he did. This is what made me see the picture of God’s love. While we never went through the adoption process, he basically adopted me as his own (Ephesians 4:5). He was the one who punished me for my own good when I did wrong (Hebrews 12:6-13). He was the one who provided for me when I had needs (Matthew 7:7-11). He is truly my father and I am his son. I could not and would not ask for a better father.

Just like my dad, the Father has chosen to adopt me as a son. I did nothing to earn it. I actually don’t deserve it. Now as a child of the Living God, I am the recipient of all the provisions, blessings and corrections that come with being His child. Because He sacrificed His son, and has chosen me to accept His gift of salvation and adoption, I am confident that I will have all eternity to enjoy Him forever.

Many people have a hard time understanding God as a loving Father because they did grow up with anyone setting that example for them. I am more thankful than words can say that for the past 25 years and counting, I did have that example of a loving father in my life.

Dad, I love you and thank you for taking me in as your son and being an example of God’s love to me. I am more grateful than words can say. You have impacted my life more than you will ever know.