From the very second he opens his eyes and a huge morning smile fills his handsome little face straight through to “dark time” each night when his blankets get tucked under his chin and mommy prays over him and kisses him goodnight; Cole Goodlad is a three-year-old boy, and my son, in every possible sense.
Trucks are Cole’s preferred mode of transportation. Be they the life-sized ones or the scaled-down versions he parks under his bed. The boy loves his fire trucks, dump trucks, monster trucks, and any other manner of trucks. Since I drive a big black truck, I suspect I may have influenced the boy’s prejudice. I’ll sleep fine with that revelation though, as it means he is my son, and it’s an honor and tremendous calling that he wants to be like me.
When we have a guy’s day out, he likes to go for ice cream. That’s never a tough sell with me, so we fire up the truck, crank up the volume on our favorite cowboy song, and head to the little ice cream shop we call ours singing our lungs out. We get the lemon flavor there because, in his words, “we wuv wemon, right dad?” As he sees it, we are the same him and me, and I would never want him to think anything else.
I know his life will become largely what I shape it to be, and I am a horribly flawed man, so I have had my concerns.
I became a Christian thirty-two years ago and over the past three decades, I have mastered the limp-wristed approach to serving, worshiping, and thanking the God I have asked to save my soul for all eternity. If he were to put in the same effort saving my soul as I have thanking him for it, I am certain I would need an asbestos swimsuit for the place I would be going.
Last September, when we left Las Vegas and moved to Florida, we found a new church. After our second Sunday there, I remember turning to Ana and saying, “this church is why God brought us to Florida.” In the past five months, we have come further than I have the past thirty-two years and our desire to know God and serve him is unstoppable. That’s what happens when a Pastor is so anointed and on fire for God that he ignites an entire congregation. These people don’t just show up, they are on fire for God and you see that passion and deep faith in everything they do and in the way they treat people.
It’s been deeply inspiring and we feel like we are at home with others that believe as we do. For the first time since becoming a father again five years ago, I feel adequately equipped for the job. I’m not perfect, but God’s love for me is, and he constantly nudges me in the direction he wants me to go throughout the day. That way I stay on the path and find the courage to do the things he needs me to do. Ana and I could not be closer in our walk with God as husband and wife, and parents.
The process has completely changed our kids as well. All three have deep scars, the kind no child should ever have, but we accept and found some measure of good in them as those experiences put them in the foster system and ultimately brought them home to us. Those scars are why we could adopt them and turn all of us into a family. God sent them to a family that would love them as much as any child could be loved and that love they receive from him through us is healing them.
Today you wouldn’t see much evidence of those scars in their actions and behaviors like you would have just a few months ago. Instead you do see three funny, happy, brilliant, and confident young children. You also see an uncanny love for each other and their family. God is healing them, and while they will never forget what has happened, it certainly doesn’t define them anymore.
People have asked me why I would want to be a dad at my age. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because of my kids, I keep improving and I am better at everything I do now than I ever was. Ana and I are living our best life because of God and his gift of our children. Life with them is absolutely wonderful.
So today, when Cole wakes from his nap, we will probably play trucks for a while and then maybe a thunderous game of hide-and-go-seek with the girls. Maybe we will walk the dogs by the pond and see if we can find any frogs or lizards or fish or we might go to the beach and hunt for sea shells in the sand. Later on, there’s a good chance we can convince mom that she is running low on something we need to pick up for her. We will climb into the big truck again, put on our country songs, and sing at the top of our lungs as we take the long way to the store.
And then tonight, just before bed, Cole will hug my neck really hard for a long time. Emma and Cady will come for their hugs and kisses too. And we will tell them how much we love them, and each will say they love us too. And for a minute, I’ll fight that lump welling up in my throat as I thank the Lord for these three precious little souls and the grace he gives me so my sins can be forgiven. Then as they all crawl into bed, we will make plans for tomorrow just before we pray over them.
My job is to love their mother, and them, and make sure they get all of the safe and love-filled tomorrows they need to become the incredible people God created them to be.
I think there is no greater calling.
