This morning, after we dropped big brother Mac off at Kindergarten, 3-year-old Trevan and I went to his favorite coffee shop (for warm chocolate milk with whipped cream, sprinkles and a spoon). Then, we came home and he helped me wash the dishes, being so careful with the glasses. As he chattered beside me, it was delightful listening to his words and phrases, many of them in imitation of his parents. I went on to other chores while he happily played with his favorite semi-truck and cars.
After lunch, I drove into work, and was recalling the various songs about men wanting or wishing they could be the heroes that their children seem to see in them...
In both Patrick O'Brian's book, HMS Surprise, and the movie, Master and Commander; the Far Side of the World, Dr. Stephen Maturin performs surgery on himself to remove a bullet from between his ribs, along with a suppurating piece of cloth from his shirt that was carried into the wound by the bullet... effectively saving his own life.
Wow! That is a model of self-control and "manliness" at a level that is superhuman ...and way beyond me. And yet, that is apparently too often the bar I've wanted to reach. On the other hand, throughout several novels, Dr. Maturin eventually discovers and diagnoses his own addiction to laudanum (an alcoholic mixture with opium, considered a completely reasonable medicine of his time for many ailments). This same Doctor, who was able to draw a bullet from his own body while sick and feverish, finds this new suppurating disease beyond his own ability to self-cure, though he certainly tries! It is only after confiding in someone he trusts that he find some strength to manage it.
Jesus mentioned the old Proverb, "Physician, heal thyself" in Luke 4:23. He used it to talk about the difficulty he was having bringing real healing and--more important--real meaning to his hometown. A side point being: it is nearly impossible for a physician to provide effective or real healing to him/herself. A doctor (unless you are the Son of God or a superhero) needs a doctor. A teacher needs to be taught. A pastor needs a pastor. A counselor needs to be counseled. Why I tend to wait until it is too late or nearly too late is beyond me!
Who was Paul's pastor and confessor? Peter's? Joan of Arc's? (Oh, she had Martin Ladvenu...mixed blessing, that; and mostly bad.) I am grateful for my Bishop who checks in from time to time. And today, I am overwhelmed by my wife who provides me with amazing patience, wisdom and forgiveness.
In the end, I won't be the hero that my boys (and a few others) seem to see in me; I don't think that man exists. Only a Heavenly Father can fill that God-sized hole! I hope the boys will forgive me. It took me a decade and a half to get over my father's humanity. But I did, and now I cherish every hour I spend on the phone or in person with him.
