Randy Winton

As I write this, Christmas Eve has turned into the early hours of Christmas morning. It won’t be long before four boys will wake up with sleepy yawns and great anticipation for what’s awaiting them under the tree. It’s pretty much the same scenario every year, except the toys get more sophisticated and the boys grow taller. But it is still every bit as much fun every time. Something about a Christmas morning and children that remind you what a blessing it is to be a daddy.

So, here I sit well after midnight in the stillness and silence of this holiest of nights … and reflect.

The craziness of the season has wound down to these quiet moments, and I sit in a chair where the only light in the house comes from the soft glow of the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. The boys and Rachel have long ago fallen asleep. But not me.

Frankly, I don’t want to sleep. Sitting here bathed in Christmas lights helps me to be still long enough to realize and appreciate what a lucky guy I am and I begin to count my blessings: I have a great relationship with my wife and my boys, I have friendships that mean everything to me and I can look back and say that 2009 has been tremendously memorable. As always, for some reason outside the realm of my understanding God has blessed me far beyond what I deserve.

But on this night, there is more to appreciate; more to consider than my own life … because somewhere hundreds of miles away is a man I have never met who is hugging his 9-year-old son tighter than he ever has before.

As the lights twinkle off newly fallen snow in Tinton Falls, New Jersey, I imagine a guy named David Goldman is sitting in his own living room, being warmed by the glow of his own lighted Christmas tree, stroking the hair of his own son who is home for a Christmas morning for the first time in five years.

And while Sean sleeps soundly in his father’s lap, I imagine David doesn’t want this moment between father and son to ever end.

It’s a moment he thought may never be experienced after his son was taken to Brazil 5 years ago and held in a foreign place in what amounted to a family kidnapping. Government red tape and stuff I can’t even begin to pretend to understand consistently worked against David’s fight to regain custody of his cherished son.

Five years. I can’t even imagine what a father gives up or misses in his boy’s life over that time. Games, school plays, first tooth falling out. Five long, painful years that can never be given back.

Yet, despite all that worked against him, this committed father never gave up. He made trip after trip, plea after plea, court date after court date. And, heartbreak after heartbreak, David Goldman went home empty handed.

For more than two years I have followed this story of this remarkable father and his quest to regain custody of his son. Of all the interviews and written stories and television profiles there was one moment that has stuck in my gut that I will never forget.

He was asked by a reporter why he kept going back; why, after so many times having his heart broken did he continue to pursue what had seemingly become a meaningless, fruitless pursuit. It took him a moment to compose himself, and through streaming tears and measured words he replied, “I will never give up. He is my son and I will never give up trying to get him back.” And again, quieter this time, almost a whisper: “He is my son.”

Then I remember another Father who said the same thing … this time to an entire world.

In Luke 19 Jesus wraps up the story of Zacchaeus, the tax collector who went from stealing to being humbled by mercy and saved by grace. As we come to verse 10 there is a moment of celebration where Jesus happily proclaims: “Salvation has come to this house … for the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.”

And so God’s claim to the world is the Promise of all promises: The Father never gives up searching for us. He never stops pursuing us.

He looked at me back some time ago, when I was lost and far away from Him … and with resolve in His voice and undying love in His heart He said: “I will never give up. He is my son.”

He said the same for you too.

Maybe you need to hear that today. Maybe you need to know there is a Savior pursuing you with the deepest of steadfast devotion. Maybe you need to know today that no matter where you are His hand is long enough to reach you and to pull you in to a love and a life like you’ve never known before.

I can’t help but think that somehow Sean knew his daddy wouldn’t give up; that sooner or later he’d find him and bring him home. Maybe on this Christmas day you needed to hear that because the fact is, we all have a longing to be with our Savior, even if we don’t realize yet only He can fill that void. After all, we were created with that desire to have a relationship with Him.

So, as I sit here in the silence of the night, I feel like a certain 9-year-old boy in Tinton Falls, New Jersey, safely resting in the arms of a father who refused to give up.

And in the glow and warmth of these Christmas lights, I’m reminded of a manger where, 2000 years ago, a baby was born to pursue me, rescue me and ultimately give me The Gift of peace and rest that lasts for eternity.

My youngest son Jonah got one of those battery-powered John Deere tractors, and it is truly very authentic looking.

It shifts into low or high speed and even goes in reverse which, as you will see, comes in handy. There’s a hand-grip power loader that controls the big front-end shovel thingie that can pick up dirt and even has that trademark green and yellow coloring that everyone – even non-tractor, non-farming guys like me – recognize.

The interesting thing about this tractor is that even for a 23-month old like Jonah, there is so much this thing can do: steering wheel, gas pedal, and of course that front end loader with the shovel thingie on the front. With a fully-charged battery, this miniature machine has the potential to keep him busy for hours. If he so desired, he could spend all day on this thing and really get a lot accomplished.

But here’s the thing. Jonah gets bored with it because he has yet to fully understand what all this thing can do. At such a tender age, he hasn’t figured out that if he handles the steering wheel just right he’s not going to run over the river birch his daddy just planted, or scrape the side of his daddy’s truck, or clip the side of his daddy’s house and scratch his leg on the brick. He mostly just goes in one big circle, never realizing that if he turns the wheel left or right, or holds it in a straight line he can plot out a life of adventure.

I’ve tried to show him. I’ve walked beside him and turned the wheel for him at the last second to prevent him from jumping the curb and ending up in the street, or slamming into the front porch, or running over the other river birch I had just planted.

Still, it simply hasn’t registered. If he could just understand the potential this little machine has, he could navigate over to the neighbor’s yard, where there sits a pile of mulch in the back yard and a mound of dirt over on the side, and he could utilize all that John Deere has to offer and really get something accomplished.

However, he’s not there yet so he just does not understand.

The result is that boring, nonsensical circle … or the crash that results in squaring up the brick wall and being stuck, wheels grinding in one place while he looks at me for help with those piercing blue eyes and he says over and over, “Daddy, pweeze.” And, I come rescue him.

Again.

I don’t really get tired of helping him, because I know someday it’s going to click and he’s going to … finally … get it. He is going to learn that there is more to this thing than riding in a circle or getting a headache when it slams into the house at full speed.

At that point, his riding this tractor will no longer be an aimless endeavor … but something exciting that opens up a whole new perspective and provides him with purpose. There will come a day when he will control this machine to ride the correct path that takes him to move mounds of dirt and mulch and provides him some freedom to roam about in search of the next job that needs to be done.

Purpose.

Our lives are like that tractor; equipped with all the tools needed to do what we were created to do. Just as there was a purpose behind the design of that battery-powered John Deere, we too are designed with a specific plan.

Paul gives us a blueprint look into what God created us to be … consider this the purpose for which we were made: Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called (I Timothy 6:11-12).

If we could only remember what God requires of us; if somehow we can realize that from the beginning of time God had a specific, unique  purpose already mapped out for each of us individually; if we can just be convinced that it’s more than simply being a ”good guy”. Our kids need us to be more than that, and to show them how to be more than that.

I imagine a lot of times God looks at me - wandering aimlessly in a big circle, sometimes getting bored with this ”Christian” life - and shaking His head. He’s thinking, “I’ve created you for so much more. You are equipped, but you just don’t get it.”

Dads, God created us with talents and gifts; and while there are times He’s like a daddy protecting his son from jumping curbs and hitting walls there are other times He watches painfully as we rumble out of control over the river birches.

Question: Do you think if God is watching over us like a daddy, providing in every possible way the correct map to guide us on our journey and the instructions to use each tool and gift He has given us to work out His plan  … maybe, just maybe, He expects us to pass that on to our own children?

Could there be more to our “purpose” than the thought that throwing baseballs, and catching footballs, and making good grades, and being a good citizen … just isn’t enough?

I think God wants us to help our sons and daughters navigate life with a faith that can move mountains (Matthew 17:20). I think God wants us to experience His plan for us more fully, so that those we hold closest to our hearts will learn a very valuable lesson - God has created us to be more than we could ever think we could be on our own.

It won’t be long before Jonah will figure it all out. And that day will change his life and his perspective and a whole new world will open up to him which will be exciting and new and incredibly satisfying.

Dads who understand that God’s purpose for us far surpasses what the world could ever recognize, would bookmark Philippians 3:8: I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him.

If we were to claim that verse and use it as part of the map that plots our life’s journey, it will change us forever. It would open a whole new world for us and it, too, will be exciting and new and incredibly satisfying.

May we dads recognize that God has purposed us to lead our families in Faith, that they would not grow up to lead meandering, aimless lives. That we as dads and they as our children would fulfill God’s great plan.

And live our lives with purpose.

Not long ago I heard someone praying the following words: “Lord, You know everything that is going to happen today. Some may be good, some may be bad … regardless, You know everything I will face today. So, please give me the wisdom to handle those things in a way that honors You.”

I liked that prayer so much, I stole it.

And a lot of days as I pray with my family before we leave the house, those three sentences are  part of my prayer. So, as two sons get dropped off at middle school, one at the elementary school, the baby stays home with Rachel and I go off to work, I want us to be covered with the knowledge that God does indeed know all that is going to happen and that He would give each of us the wisdom and desire to handle our day in accordance with His guidelines.

As I look back over the months since I first heard that prayer, I wonder how many times I actually meant that last part. You know, the stuff about my handling those “things” in a way that honors Him. Because, frankly, I’m not so sure I’ve honored Him many times by the way I’ve handled “life.”

It just seems like too many times we look at things from a not-so-Godly perspective; well, at least I do. Until recently, I’ve rarely looked at situations that brought stress or fear or hurt or anger and saw an opportunity to present a God-like perspective. I’m not talking about some “feel-good, Walton family, Sunday School answer” kind of thing. Just something genuinely right coming out of something genuinely wrong and it has nothing to do with me.

That’s the problem … too much “me”. So, sometimes God does His thing and somehow we don’t get in the way for a change and something pretty cool happens.

This past Sunday, a 13-year-old kid decided the reward was worth the risk when he covered his face with a bandana, walked across my front lawn, stepped up on my front porch and proceeded to steal Caleb’s bike. Did I mention it was 3 o’clock in the afternoon?

Caleb just so happened to see some movement on the porch and I went to the door only to see this kid’s back as he began to peddle away. So my 45-year-old barefoot self sprinted out in the rain and caught him as he got to my mailbox. In my shock at what this kid had done, I just let him go with the warning: “Son, if you ever step foot on my property again, I’ll call the police.”

“Yes sir.” And he was gone.

After a while, the reality hit, and I heeded the advice of my equally-stunned family and called the police. An officer looked for him, but failed to find him. I decided I’d go look for myself and sure enough, within 5 minutes of my driving around the neighborhood, there he was …

On ANOTHER bike!

I stopped him and was surprised he didn’t take off. He didn’t run, didn’t try to get away;  just sat there and talked to me. When he looked up at me, I knew why … there was no hope in his eyes. Not one ounce. Just a gaping void.

How sad.

I went through the whole deal about “today it’s a bike, tomorrow it will be cars … you’re going to wind up dead or in jail. Do you want that?” As he lowered his head and looked at the ground, he whispered, “No sir.”

 At that moment, I didn’t want that either.

I mean, I did want that 30 minutes ago when he was just another thief with his face covered violating my family and my home. But now … now he wasn’t wearing that bandana. Now, he was just a 13-year-old kid who had no hope.

And the God Who knew everything that would happen that day, the God Who knew what I would be facing at that moment … yes, the same God to Whom I prayed for the wisdom to handle such moments in a way that would honor Him … that same God answered my prayer.

So, as the police were pulling up to question this hopeless kid, he looked at me one last time. My voice softened and my words were chosen carefully. “Son, I want you to know something. God loves you more than you’ll ever know. And this is not His plan for your life. Do you understand?” He nodded his head.

I truly hope he understood, because no one may have ever told him that before. It was obvious no one had ever modeled that for him, which means he isn’t unlike so many in our world today, whose very lives and families are being ruined by another thief; another thief who wants to steal from you and me as well.

In John 10, Jesus is explaining about the relationship between a shepherd and his sheep. The shepherd knows each sheep by name and they know his voice. This shepherd will give up his life to protect his sheep and he will leave the flock just to find one that is lost. His protection is important because there is “one” out there whose only wish is to destroy those sheep. So, in John 10:10, Jesus explains: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.”  

The thief takes life. Jesus gives it. There is no hope with such a thief; by contrast, life in Christ is rich, full and joyful. It overflows with meaning and potential and blessing. People with Christ in their lives have hope and there is life bursting from their eyes.

The Thief can’t stand it, so his mission is focused on ruining lives, breaking up families … and tearing the hope away from 13-year-old kids.

So those of us who have experienced and remember what it was like to have no hope, now have an opportunity to share the greatest gift we’ve ever been given … the hope we now have in Jesus Christ. There are just too many empty, hard hearts; too many eyes void of life and joy; too many lives left ravaged by The Thief.

Too many for us to sit around in the comforts of our padded pews and air-conditioned buildings and not answer the questions for which their souls are crying out: “Where is the hope?”  I Peter 3:15 says: “But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.”

What happened Sunday afternoon is not in any way something I did. At the time, I had no idea why my heart was telling me to go look for him. To be perfectly honest, I’d rather just watch the Little League World Series with my own sons. But one thing I do know … nothing catches God by surprise. His prompting me to find that kid was nothing if not an answer to that simple but powerful prayer I stole some time back.

Now, my prayer is that 13-year-old kid – and others like him – will have somebody in their lives who will tell them about this Good Shepherd Who was willing to die for them; Who went out looking for the lost and Who knows each one by name.

And The Thief will no longer be able to steal the souls of our kids.