Every summer of my high school career I was assigned at least 2 books for summer reading. I attended a rather large public high school in the Orlando area. The reason the “public” part is important is that I attended private Christian school Kindergarten through 8th grade. The summer before my freshman year of high school, my dad decided to do some summer reading assigning himself. The summer I was 14, my dad went searching his office at the church for my assignment from him.
As I was laying by our pool, my dad came out with my assignment. “This is something I want you to read this summer. I think it will really help you as you start high school in August.” Now, I’ve always been semi-academic, so I was hoping for a really good piece of historical fiction. I was partly right, but it was much more than that. I get out of the pool and my dad hands me a very worn and faded copy of “In His Steps” by Charles Sheldon. I was pretty disappointed. The title sounded like some devotional you would find on the shelf at Family Christian Bookstore.
My dad went on to say, “the main character’s name is Rachel, when your mama wanted to name you Rachael, I agreed because I always liked the Rachel in this book.” (The story on how I got the spelling of my name will come in a different blog). So, of course this being my namesake, my interest was piqued.
That evening I started my journey with the characters in that little town of Raymond. It wasn’t at all what I expected. It was way more than I had bargained for. I finished the book in 3 days. My poor dad…. The questions that I had over the next few weeks were varied and a lot. I had so many questions of why? Is that what we’re “supposed” to do? We spent a lot of time discussing those who took the journey of “what would Jesus do?” that was posed by Henry Maxwell, the pastor of the little church in Raymond.
Later that summer, I took the very giant steps of faith out of the row of chairs in our very small church and made a commitment. See, I had accepted Jesus in my heart at the ripe old age of 6. I’d gone to Christian school. I’d been the pastor’s kid that helped with VBS and nursery and anything else that was required of the pastor’s family. But that day, shortly after I’d embarked on my public education, I knew it was time to make a commitment. I knew that the words of Sheldon would forever echo in my head, “what would Jesus do?” I was certain it was time to start living a life that would reflect that question.
However, I was a teeanger. I was not perfect. I stumbled and limped my way through high school as far as being a shining example of some Christian exemplar. But I stood firm in my faith. I, as Paul says in Ephesians, took up my shield of faith against the fiery darts of the wicked. By the time I was 18, I knew who I was and whose I was in the faith. I was not only imago dei (made in the image of God), I was imitatio dei (imitator of God).
As I reflect on that summer before high school, I see the real value in relationships with my kids. My dad wasn’t an authoritarian that was “making” me read something. He wasn’t telling me to do something or live a way that he himself didn’t live. He was showing me the way. Guiding me. Encouraging me. There was no question that my dad shied away from, theological or otherwise. It’s why today, I encourage my kids to ask. Ask me questions. Let’s talk about these world events and what’s wrong and what’s right and what’s our responsibility in all of it. There’s nothing off limits. Because of my dad’s willingness to endure the questions of a teenage girl, he was feeding the calling that would one day lay on her shoulders so heavy in a little house on the wrong side of the tracks. It has been heavy on me ever since.
Today, that calling is getting heavier and bigger with each passing moment. I still don’t know fully how it’s going to all come to fruition. But I do know that I will keep asking questions, and learning, and pushing, and asking the most important question of all, “what would Jesus do?”
