So three days after your older son and our oldest grandson became a teenager, you hit the additional milestone of turning 40. As if I needed another reminder that time is passing quickly. As I read the thirteenth edition of your post “To Jim on his birthday,” I was once again reminded of what a gift those annual writings are to Jim and Liam. I first thought that when you wrote the first one 13 years ago, and wished I had done something so thoughtful and meaningful for you and Taylor and Shari on your birthdays.
I can’t go back and change what I didn’t do back then, but on the occasion of you reaching four decades, I’d like to try to give you a small bit of what you have been giving to your sons. I sure hope you’ve learned a thing or two from me over these years, and the truth is that I’ve also hopefully learned a thing or two from you as well.
I don’t want to just jump right in to talking about the 40-year old Christopher without mention of some of what got you to this place - especially since I’m 40 years behind on penning (keying) this. It’s an obvious understatement to say that I wouldn’t take anything for the years your mom and I have had with you.
As you know, your mom developed some complications toward the end of her pregnancy with you. When at some point her doctor told me to get her admitted to the hospital right away, I asked if the baby’s life was in danger. He told me the baby’s life and the mother’s life were both in danger. That was the first of several of the scariest moments in my life that involved you. (Others include when two-year old Christopher decided to leave the house and go for a run like his daddy did, and when the massive wave yanked you from my arms in the ocean.) The day before you were born, the doctor told us that you would be a scrawny, struggling baby but he thought you would be OK. Thankfully he was wrong. You were a big strong beautiful baby boy and have always been so much more than just OK.
Life for you has not always been what most people would consider normal. You and your mom came out of the hospital and went straight into staff training camp for Centrifuge, the youth conference where I was serving as camp pastor for the summer. You spent the first 11 weeks of your life as part of Centrifuge at North Greenville College (now University) before spending your first night at home. After one night at home, the three of us hit the road for numerous churches between South Carolina and Florida. Your mom did an amazing job of taking good care of you under unusual circumstances. We were together constantly and had great family time together sharing a lot of wonderful experiences.
Shortly before Taylor was born we moved to Columbia for me to go on staff with the SC Baptist Convention, partially so we could spend a little less time on the road. Late one night after making the trip home from a church, we walked into our new house and you groggily looked around and said “I want to go home.” We told you that this was our new home. You looked around again and proclaimed, “I want to go to a hotel.” We spent at least part of over 280 days of each of your first two years doing various ministry all over the country, so you had spent far more time sleeping in hotels, conference centers, and camps than in our house. You learned early on to be flexible, which continues to serve you well.
From the beginning you were a great kid in every way. Part of what made you a great kid is that you didn’t (and still don’t) realize how wonderful you were/are. In 40 years I’ve never seen the slightest hint of arrogance or pride in you. If anything, at times you’ve needed another dose of confidence like a lot of us. Your humility has been a constant. Beyond the privilege of having you as a son, we also were blessed to have you work alongside us in ministry for many years. From running lights at a young age for Art to Heart productions to helping direct Seesalt and Chillipepper student conferences, your strong gifts and talents for great ministry have been obvious and appreciated by many thousands of students and adults and co-workers. You’ve never tried to impress people by who you are or what you do, but it just quietly happens anyway.
I’m realizing that I could write a book of great Christopher stories, but for now let’s jump to the Christopher who has just turned 40.
The reality is that your 39th year has been a tough one. Maybe the toughest. You have made some hard decisions based on not being willing to compromise your convictions about what ministry is and should be. It has cost you and your family a lot, but you resisted taking the easier, more comfortable path and chose not to put a price on your integrity. As you also know, moms and dads hate to see their son hurting, but there has never been any question in our minds that you’ve made the right, God-honoring decisions. Our admiration and respect for you has only grown deeper.
In your 40 years, you’ve had more wonderful experiences in ministry than most people could imagine. But you’ve also sadly seen, heard about, and experienced more than enough negative to become jaded and disillusioned. I’m thankful that you have chosen not to take that path. You are pressing on because your faith is real and it is your own. You have been able to enjoy and have fun on your Christian journey, but you have long understood that following Christ is not a game. You have had the discipline and invested the time and effort into growing deep in your faith. You have never settled for a shallow Christianity.
Many times you and I have lamented that when it comes to Christianity so many people seem to choose either heart or mind to the exclusion of the other. I’m so thankful that you are a strong example of those two not being mutually exclusive. You have a very intelligent, well-informed faith, but at the same time you are passionate about loving and serving God and loving and serving others.
40-year-old Christopher is loving, kind, patient, and as I start listing these qualities, I realize that I’m about to mention most everything found in Galatians 5:22-23 - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I wouldn’t dare put you or anyone else on a pedestal, but I genuinely see so much of this fruit of the Spirit in you, Christopher.
Because of that, you are an incredible husband, father, brother, friend, and more. As a dad, I especially enjoy seeing what a tremendous dad you are to Jim and Liam. But most of all I can testify that you are and always have been a great son. I love that you still give your mom and me heart-felt hugs. You understand my humor, know when it’s coming, and still laugh at the right time with no extreme eye-rolling. We badly miss getting to see you on a daily or even weekly basis, but we cherish the good and fun times and meaningful conversations that we still get to have.
I’ve never claimed to be a prophet so I’m not going to predict what this year of being 40 will be like, but I certainly hope, pray, and believe it will be a good one as work-related transitions continue. Moving forward, you have everything and everyone you need.
I could rewrite this 40th birthday perspective a thousand times and it would still fall short of being a proper tribute. I’ll end by simply saying I love you, I like you, I’m proud of you, and I’m thankful to be your dad. Happy birthday, Christopher!
