MY THREE SONS

Gabe, Paul, Luke; Norwalk, OH; 1993
(Click photos to enlarge.)

I have three sons: Gabe, Luke, and Paul. People ask me how old they are, and I have not much of an idea. I can come within three years, generally. What I know for sure is the years they were born. It is easy to remember these numbers, because the numbers never change. Gabe was always born in 1986, Luke in 1988, and Paul in 1992. “If you really want to know how old my sons are,” I tell questioners, “you will have to take it from the birth years and do the math yourself. Sorry about that.” Surprisingly, most of them do the math. I then find out from these people how old my sons are—and promptly forget it.

Gabe works in Columbus, OH, for a telephone company; his passion is music; he’s a writer and performer. Luke is in China for the second year in a row, teaching young people conversational English; he teaches yoga in his spare time. Paul attends Ohio Wesleyan University in Delaware, OH, where, as a sophomore, he is a starting pitcher for the baseball team (I guess that would make sense.) He is majoring in education.

I loved raising these kids. What a privilege given me by God. I am a big kid myself, so it was no trouble. It was hard sometimes, but no trouble. I always had fun with them. I jumped into their world, and they liked that. I was real with them. I looked them in the eyes and spoke to them like real people, which they seemed to be.

For instance, I never told them there was a frickin’ Santa Claus; I couldn’t bring myself to do it. How could I tell them about a frickin’ Santa Claus, then hope to tell them about God and Christ and have them believe me? This doesn’t mean we didn’t have fun at Christmas, because we did. Marcia and I tried to make everything special for the kids, and succeeded fabulously. We did Christmas cookies; music, hot chocolate; presents. Why not? I know it’s a pagan holiday, but I didn’t recognize it as such. I sure didn’t recognize it as Jesus’ birthday. I just recognized it as a good excuse to eat cookies, listen to happy music, and drink hot chocolate. Why not? It’s the winter solstice, for God’s sake. The days get longer at that point, for God’s sake. What’s not to like?

With Gabe and Luke. Please forgive the glasses.
These were very popular 900 years ago.

I took my wife and kids with me to many, many conferences. They heard the truth. My sons know what their dad does, and have seen him do it. They haven’t seen me do it for years now, but oh well. It’s in them, so I don’t worry about it. Why worry? They have their own lives. God loves them more than I do, last time I checked. (But I do give God a run for His money and try to love them more than He does.)

Gabe and me; 1989

Gabe today.

Even though I loved playing with my boys, I was also a disciplinarian. Not a crazy one, but a sane one. Yes, I spanked them, but then I always talked to them afterward, hugged them, and cried with them. It served them well. Today, they are fine citizens. None of them have ever bombed anything. I feel pretty good about myself; I think I get a gold parenting star. But again, it wasn’t too hard. I can’t overemphasize how helpful it is to be a kid yourself—or at least still be able to think like one.

Luke and me; 1991

Luke today.

Baby crying is one of the most irritating sounds imaginable. Even so, I loved everything about my babies, even their crying. I remember putting my ear directly to my sons’ mouths, even when they were wailing loud enough to break glass and pee themselves. Their cries pierced my soul, but that’s what I wanted. I wanted my soul pierced. I couldn’t get enough of my babies, even the unpleasant stuff. I guess what this means is that nothing was really unpleasant. I was born to be married and raise kids. I loved it. It was my first calling, my first happiness, my first joy.

I loved changing their diapers, too, and we’re talking cloth diapers here. Yes, we were old school. I always put the kids up on the washing machine, and away we went. If the washing machine was running, it was even better. I always made a game of it. I had them laughing their heads off most the time, so that they never knew their diapers were being changed. I would sometimes kiss them on the lips while I was changing their diapers. They may be finding this out for the first time. That’s how it was, so there you have it. Why the heck not?

Paul and me; 1995

Paul today.

Today, these men are all my friends. Even if we don’t talk for a while or see one another for a while, when we do talk and visit, we hit the ground running as though we were never apart. They already know how much I love them, but someday they will really find out. I suppose this will happen when they have kids of their own, or maybe when they stand before God and see how loving God really is and that their dad gave them his life without wrecking his own in the process.

Paul and Gabe in Greenwich, OH.

Luke in Bangkok.

Luke with woman.

Gabe with camera.

Gabe pensive.

Luke wired.

Luke falls calmly from building.

Paul with girlfriend Sarah.

Gabe in color.

Luke in China. You can see the
"How to Be Free From Sin While Smoking a Cigarette"
cover look. 

With my family, the day I quit the Postal Service
to herald the Word full time; October 1, 1993.

My sexy wife Marcia on our 10th anniversary;
October 15, 1992.