"'My son' Moments"

"My son," was written more than twenty times into Solomon’s Book of Proverbs. The transfer of values, counsel, and encouragement are woven through the pages of the king’s permanent records. The legacy of a father’s life experience is left for generations to come in rhythmic redundancy.

My father taught me the art of using the common hand saw when I was a second grader. Dad, redundantly, rhythmically reminded me, "Let the saw do the cutting!" The simple instruction can be rightly applied to many experiences of life. Dad gradually added instruction in the use of one tool after another until I had a working knowledge of most tools of his trade.

Later in life I remembered how I learned from my tradesman father and knew I needed help if I was to master the craft of my vocation. Jesus guided my path to people much older and far more experienced than me. They were very different from me in many ways, some had little experience in my vocation, but they had life experience, a more mature world view, a better understanding how things work.

Some of the lessons I learned still serve me. For instance, a board member’s wife said almost offhandedly, "Some day you will learn that you cannot work like you do today." She was old enough to be my mother. I was in my twenties. I nodded in agreement and thought, "Not me!" But, she was right and her caution was well placed. The "My son" moment was not wasted.

People with widely varied life experiences crisscrossed my path. I heard "My son" counsel when the "fathers" were unaware they were helping me acquire the necessary "tools of the trade." Some taught me about money and how intoxicating and distracting it can be. Many cautioned me about relationships and human nature. Specific instructions varied from one to another, but I was blessed with people who embraced me as a son.

Others introduced me to their fathers in the form of books, many written well before authors flitted across continents in airplanes or had every word and motion digitalized, magnified, and aired for the masses. The fathers who spoke "My son" counsel into my life lived when the world was quaint and quiet by my youthful standard. The authors who spoke "My son" wisdom were sharing inviolable truths which originated in the heart of an Eternal God. They spoke wisdom which is timeless.

One of the men who began to shape my life two years before I was to break the cycle typical of my vocation was Anthony Giordano. Brother Giordano was a world-class missionary who invited us to bring teams of youth to the Canary Islands in 1986 and 1987. By prevailing professional standards, my life had been on a smoothly ascending trajectory. The churches I had pastored had grown. I was invited to write for national publications. I enjoyed my work. Life was good.

The two two-week summer sessions with Anthony and Rita Giordano were orchestrated by the Lord of the Harvest who made sure that I had "My son" moments with a humble and effective couple who understood how they were "wired," and simply, steadily pursued their calling to perfection. I will never forget Brother Giordano moving forward when the religious establishment of the city fought against his efforts to share the Gospel. No anger, no hasty reactions, no threats, just a quiet, "We will pray and see what the Lord will do!" How could I forget the day when there was no electrical power and Brother Giordano laid his hands on the utility pole and prayed? On the next attempt to power up the amplifier, we heard a little pop, a bit of static, and SOUND! Brother Giordano sort of shrugged unassumingly and said, "The Lord knows what we need."

Months after our second trip, Pat and I were enlisted to head up a new venture in church planting. The "My son" lessons on islands off the coast of Africa in the Atlantic were applied often for more than 25 years. Anthony Giordano, the father who unwittingly shared "My son" moments, slipped into eternity last Sunday. Anthony and Rita Giordano’s and many others have gone ahead. Pat and I will pay our respects this week. The Giordano’s lives were unlike Pat and mine. Otto and Annie Wegner, the first to pour out countless "My son" lessons were followed by many more. The Giordanos are among those who blessed us "sons" the most.