Smoothing Out the Rough Edges of the Heart

If you were to describe my dad's demeanor in one word, the word would be "stoic." A seasoned military man, he never showed much emotion. He grew up poor. His childhood home was filled with abuse and addiction. The military was his escape from that life. Yet, in some ways, it hardened him more. Most folks thought my dad was intimidating. Unapproachable. Maybe even a little rough around the edges. However, as my dad aged, I saw a softening. More and more emotion would pour out of him as he got older. And the feelings he couldn't verbalize from his lips would instead run from the corners of his steel blue eyes. 

One of the last times I saw him show this type of emotion, I was visiting my sister in Georgia for Christmas. We had spent the weekend as family laughing, playing games, and telling stories. Our kids were running around and cutting up like kids do. As we were leaving to head back to North Carolina, Dad couldn't verbalize how he felt. I know he wanted to say "I'm proud of you," or tell me how much he had enjoyed the weekend with us and my three boys. The words were written on his face and though he couldn't verbalize them, I knew. Better yet, he knew that I knew. Tears welled up in his eyes and he just said "I love you." 

Sometimes, I get accused of having a demeanor similar to that of my father, as painful as it is for me to hear. I have tried to distance myself from that type of persona. It's partially a father wound I'm sure. My goal has never been to intimidate people or be unapproachable. However, I do know that I carry a certain determination and seriousness in my countenance. According to my wife and a few others, it's unnerving to some. I suppose I appear to have a hard exterior to me. Thirty years in the trucking industry will harden the edges a bit. Thankfully, I have a wife and a Savior that both love me and they work to smooth out the rough edges. And as I continue to age, I feel more than the edges being smoothed. The rough edges of my heart seem to be smoothing as well. It is a running joke between my wife and me of late that I cry at just about anything these days. And I'm okay with that. There are worse things you could be than tenderhearted and emotional. I have wondered what creates this phenomenon in some men as they age. For me, I think it's a couple of things. 

Grace

I have lived long enough now to understand just how amazing grace is. An incredible gift of immeasurable value carried around in an earthen vessel. Anything good that comes from my hands is a testament to the Spirit within me. Because I know the battles that rage in my own heart and mind. And while I try to live for Christ daily, I fall desperately short far too often. And somehow God forgives. Not only forgives but pours out His grace. Unmerited favor. Good things underserved. And I can't put words to that. So, much like the words my dad couldn't verbalize, often my gratitude runs from the corners of my eyes. 

Gratitude

I scratch my head more days than not wondering what I did to deserve some of the blessings that come from above. I have had, and continue to have, a very successful career in the trucking industry. It has afforded me more than I could have imagined at the onset. What I initially thought was a job became a career. Along the way, I have raised three boys who are growing into God-fearing men. I became a father-in-law twice last year and have two beautiful daughter-in-laws. They were everything I had prayed for. I have a wife that loves and supports me, friends that surround me, a church I love, and a church body to serve with that's on mission together. And I have a savior that walks with me through the highs and lows of life. Often I take inventory of these things while watching a sunset, sitting in a deer stand, fishing on the lake, and I just cry. Who am I that you would think of me, Lord?

When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—the moon and the stars you set in place-- what are mere mortals that you should think about them, human beings that you should care for them? Yet you made them only a little lower than God and crowned them with glory and honor. Psalm 8:3-5

The Gospel

My eyes also never get tired of seeing the Spirit of God transform a life or a relationship. I have seen God transform lives seemingly lost to addiction. Watched him heal marriages damaged by infidelity. He has brought restoration and healing to family relationships. Baptisms. Man, I love baptisms! Our worship band plays like crazy when new believers are brought up out of the water and our entire congregation claps and cheers. And I just cry. I have seen husbands baptize wives. Grandfathers and fathers baptize children and grandchildren. Sisters baptize sisters. I get emotional just thinking about it. And it's not just lives transformed by the gospel that move me. Songs about the gospel move me too. I can barely make it through singing songs like "The Old Rugged Cross," Jon Reddick's "I Believe It," and these lyrics from "King of Kings" always bring tears:

And the morning that You rose
All of Heaven held its breath
'Til that stone was moved for good
For the Lamb had conquered death
And the dead rose from their tombs
And the angels stood in awe
For the souls of all who'd come
To the Father are restored

The good news of the gospel just seems to get better over time. You would think as many times as I have heard "the old, old story of Jesus and His love" in my lifetime it would lessen it's impact. Yet, it never does. My ears never get tired of hearing it. 

Conclusion

Below is a picture I took of my dad. I hope you won't judge me for snapping a picture in a prayer service, but it was how I wanted to remember him. We were visiting Mom and Dad in Clarksville, Tennessee and we went with them to a prayer service ahead of a week of revival services. This is my dad praying for revival. You see, early on in my dad's story, the gospel changed his life too. And in the years to follow, God began to work in my dad's life. The Spirit of God went to work on the old man and started reshaping him into a new man. And that callous heart of the old man, slowly began to soften as the Spirit of God reshaped the inner man to think, love, feel, and live like Jesus. The very same Spirit that's living and working in me. Much like a craftsman's tools are used to transform a rough piece of wood into something beautiful and useful; grace, gratitude, and the power of the gospel seem to be the tools The Carpenter has used to smooth out the rough edges of my heart too.