What I Learned About God From My Dad

Five years ago this week, my father passed away. Its hard to believe its already been five years. It seems like just yesterday I remember him cracking some joke at which he laughed harder than anyone else. I can also still hear his take on what's going on in the world and how he had the answer to fix it all. Trust me, with what's going on right now, if he was here, we would never be able to keep him quiet. Somehow, I picture him strolling through the the corridors of heaven trying to give "Troy Stone" insight and suggestions to anyone who will lend him an ear. Indeed, God broke the mold when He made my Dad as I've yet to find anyone like him.

Growing up I learned a lot from him. How to bait a hook, how to throw a ball, and how to hold politicians accountable. Maybe its a bit of a reach, but somehow I think the decline in the world around us in the last five years might have something to do with the fact Troy Stone doesn't have politicians shaking in their boots anymore. I'm just saying.

Of all the things I learned from my Dad, I think the things I learned about God are the most valuable. No, my Dad didn't sit me down and teach me Bible stories and make me memorize Scripture. He taught me by how he lived his life. He was far from perfect and believe me, I wasn't blind to the imperfections. Yet, somehow along his journey, this imperfect man taught me volumes about a perfect God.

Mrs. Baird's Bread. Its the best you know. At least according to my Dad. No, other brand would do for the Stone household. Even if it was the highest priced bread on the market, you could count on it making it's way to our house. My Dad would do anything to provide his family with the best. Whether it was Sony, or Zenith, or Craftsman, or Chevy or some other brand he thought was the best. You could rest assured no brand he considered "junk" or inferior would be purchased with his hard earned money. Nope, only the best. It makes my perspective about a God who wants the best for me an easy thing to grasp. After all, if my earthly father wanted that for me, how much more does my heavenly Father desire that for me?

Scripture tells us that God can not lie. He never breaks promises. And while I'm sure my Dad told some whoppers in his day, I don't know of another person I've ever met who was better at keeping promises than my Dad. If he told you he'd do it, you could pretty much take it to the bank. Trusting someone like that becomes easy once they've established a behavioral pattern of integrity. It's the same with our heavenly Father. His unwavering faithfulness to all His promises makes trusting Him easy. Fortunately for me, I have to admit my trust and confidence in God definitely had a jump start from seeing that characteristic in my earthly Dad.

Another characteristic of God I saw in my Dad was that of refuge and protector. One time I remember we were going to a parade in our hometown. We were stuck in traffic and this man behind us gets out of his car and starts screaming profanities at the top of his lungs. My dad reacted by jumping out of his car and declaring that he had his wife and kids in the car and would appreciate it if he would cease with the profanity and get back in his car. I remember my initial response was that of embarrassment and fear of the man retaliating. But when all was said and done and the man apologized and got back in his car, I remember feeling safe. You know when you're young and you think your Dad can beat up anybody's dad? I kind of felt like that my entire life. Maybe not so much that my Dad would engage in a fist fight with everyone, but just the fact that I always knew he had my back. I just always knew that if anyone messed with me, they would have to tangle with him. It's that quality in my Dad that makes it easy for me to view a God who is indeed my Refuge and Protector. It's so easy to read a Scripture like, "If God is for me, who can be against me," and walk through life as if it were absolutely true.

I could go on and on with stories about my Dad and how they painted a picture of God for me. He was my biggest fan, he genuinely enjoyed spending time with me, and I really think he constantly saw in me, who I was even when I didn't resemble that from time to time.

I really miss him. Some days more than others. Fortunately, I'm not like some who grieve without hope. For I know that one day I will be see him again. Looking at all that's going on in the world I'm thinking that day may be fast approaching. And I'll get to hear the corny jokes. And I'll hear why old school country is the only music worth listening to. And I'll hear how he can now say without a doubt that West Virginia is indeed almost heaven. What a character! If you knew him, you can certainly relate. If you didn't, trust me, when you get to heaven he'll be easy to find. He'll be the one eating a sandwich composed of a couple slices of tomatoes between two pieces of Mrs. Baird's Bread. Be prepared though, he'll try to convince you that you haven't eaten until you've tried one.

I Thought I Had Ups

This week my 7 year old challenged me to a slam dunk contest. When he did, my mind went back to the day when I soared through the air like Michael Jordan. Ok, so maybe Michael Jordan is a stretch and the fact is that any dunking I did back in the day was on a 7 or 8 foot goal. That being said, I do remember having some game. While Nike never came knocking on my door, it seems like I remember at least being able to move without feeling as though my feet were glued to the floor.

Now, being 43 years old, and having a challenge thrown down by my 7 year old, I was determined to lace up the shoes and to show him some old school moves. Lowering the goal to 7 feet, I was confident I was going to impress him. By the way, just so you don't get the idea that my kid is a giant, he has a small goal that he would be doing his dunks on not the 7 foot one. As we showed our stuff, I couldn't believe that at 7 feet, I actually missed some dunks. I figure with my 5'-10 1/2" frame and my long arms, it is only necessary to catch 1 or 2 inches of air to slam on a 7 foot goal. I'm guessing that apparently on several attempts the air beneath my feet was less than the required 1 to 2 inches, since I came up short.

While my son dazzled me with his fancy moves, I can assure you nobody was dazzled by my pathetic attempts. I was able to slam a few home, to save complete humiliation, but even my 4 year old appeared to have more ups than me. I think the lowest point of the contest came when out of a possible score of 50 my son gave one of my dunks a 36. If you know anything about the slam dunk contest, below 40 completely stinks and trust me, my boy knows that. To be honest, I thought the dunk deserved more like a 20, I'm just thinking he was being nice to his dad.

As I'm writing this, I have about 10 minutes left before I hit the court with my two boys for a little two on one. And while I have to work and have to take care of all the responsibilities that come with being a pastor, a husband, and dad, I must admit this is one thing I try to place a priority on. No, I don't always do it right and yes, there are times my boys take a back seat to all the other stuff. But, thank God for those times I get it right.

I guess what I'm trying to say is I'll take the 36s on my dunks. I'll take those moments when my skills feel like they have got up and went. I'll take those moments when I feel like my shoes are glued to the ground. I'll take those sore knees and other aches the day after. I'll take every loss on the chin. I'll walk through it all if it means that I get to spend time with two of my best friends.

I could go on and on, but my 10 minutes is up and I've got a couple basketball players warming up on the court ready to take on their dad. Time for "Air Jordan" (that's my nickname) to lace em up and show these youngsters how to play this game. They're going down, today! Oh, yeah they are going down!

My Dad

I've posted this before, but with Father's Day here I can think of nothing better to post this week than this article I wrote about my Dad immediately following his going home to be with the Lord a few years ago. For those who didn't know my Dad, it'll introduce you to him. For those who knew him, it'll remind you of this world's greatest Dad.

Most of you knew Troy Stone as a strong conservative voice in Ellis County. A man who had an opinion about everything and never hesitated to share it. A man who held elected officials accountable, ruffled the feathers that needed ruffling, and rocked every boat that needed rocking. You knew him as a man who loved his country and was determined to do whatever was necessary to keep it the greatest country in the world.

But, let me tell you a little bit about the man I knew as Daddy. He taught me things every young boy needs to know. He taught me how to throw a football, kick a soccer ball, and hit a baseball. Never, once did I ever look to the sideline without seeing my Dad on it. Every single game there he was on the sidelines rooting for me as if I was the best player out there, when in reality, I can assure you, I was not. By the time I made it to high school, my physical stature, yes, I was a runt, steered my away from organized sports and I became involved in marching band. Dad’s level of support never changed. It didn’t matter if it was a home game or an away game. Every week there he was in the stands watching my eight minute half-time performance. Once again, I don’t recall one that he missed. 

That’s the way he was with all of his children. He always supported everything we were involved with. He invested his time, his money, and his energy into each of our lives, our dreams, and our futures. I think I can speak for each of his children in saying that when we were young we thought he was the best. What is an awesome testimony though, is that each of us hold that same opinion here at the end of his life. 

My Dad had five children, but he was “Daddy” to many more. I remember years ago, our family sponsored a young boy who lived in an orphanage in Fairfield, TX. My Dad heard about a track meet this boy was competing in. I don’t remember all the details, but I believe he ran the mile. Although he told my Dad that he wasn’t very good and had never won, my Dad drove to Fairfield to watch him race. When the race started, he took off too fast and my Dad was sure he was going to run out of gas, but he never did. He won the race. I think that the fact that he had a “Daddy” in the stands that day had something to do with it.

I learned more from my Dad by just watching the way he lived his life. He was always willing to help out whenever he saw a need. Like the times he would see a family in need and would buy them groceries, clothes, etc. Or, like the times he would hear of a need at church and would step up to the plate to supply that need. There were even a couple of occasions when he opened his house to young people in need of a place to stay.

Daddy, taught me that the wealth of a man is not found in the size of his bank account but in the depth of his character. He taught me the importance of being a man of integrity and man of your word by living it out before me. For example, one time he had promised to take me to a Ranger’s game. He was out of town working in Laredo at that time and we didn’t think he was going to make it home in time. I was crushed, because he had promised to take me. Then all of a sudden into the driveway pulls my Dad. He runs into the house, changes clothes, kisses Mom and off we go to the game. Pretty incredible for a man who had just driven all the way from Laredo. I don’t remember anything else about the game that night, just that my Dad kept his promise.

I also learned about strength and courage from my Dad. There was no better example of that, than how he lived his life over the past few years. While living with the advanced stages of emphysema, he continued to live his life to the fullest. Even though he became oxygen dependent 24/7, he continued to be involved in the Republican party here in Ellis county. Every election day you could count on seeing him working the polls. Afterwards, he would be exhausted for several days, but that never kept him from doing it again. He never let his disease prevent him from making trips to the Houston area to spend time with his children and grandchildren. On July 4^th, 2004 while hooked up to his portable oxygen machine, he insisted on running his snow-cone machine at an outdoor church function in southeast Texas. We constantly got on to him about over doing it, but the fact is he knew no other way to live his life than full-throttle.

I could write volumes about my Dad and perhaps someday I will. He didn’t leave his family a huge monetary inheritance, but the inheritance he left is worth more than all this world’s riches. It is no doubt that this world is a better place because of his influence here. All that knew him will truly miss him. America will miss his patriotism. Ellis county will miss his strong conservative voice. The Republican Party will miss his leadership. And I’ll miss my Daddy.