Bring-your-parents-to-class Day: Dad

Whenever I brought a new friend home as a teen to hang out and meet my family, my friend would eventually say to me, "Why is your dad so angry?" I would be puzzled by the question. After the third time I grew increasingly dismissive of it.

"He isn't angry," I'd say.  "That's just the way he is."

And now, as a teacher, I invited my father into my classroom to show students "the way he is." Because they won't find another person with the same passion, knowledge and experience base, integrity and faith.

See, my father is a guy cut from a different cloth.  He's an old farm boy; he's a cyborg with a heart pump.  He's a pastor; he's an introvert. He's talented; he's timid. More than anything, he is intense. 
He feels fully, always. And that feeling exudes from him.  It's why people listen to him when he speaks.  It's why people respond, positively or negatively, to the things he does and says.  He's genuine, and he's passionate. And in our fake plastic world, the genuine article is hard to find.

Funny, those attributes aren't even close to the extent of the effect he has on people, but authenticity and passion are at the heart of his life, his actions.  And they give his life resonance. They are the catalyst of intellect, faith, compassion and...yeah, even anger.

Little things showed his passion. When asked questions by my students, he'd stand up to respond. He'd put his foot on a chair and lean in to his audience, elbow on his knee. He'd raise his hand when he wanted to make a point, as if to high-five someone, broad palm like Moses and the tablets.  (Later, students said to me, "You know, your dad does the same thing as you." And I'd feel great.)

The first thing he did, though, was the most telling.  The first question my students asked  prompted a moment of indecision in which my parents looked at each other and didn't know which of them would respond first, each giving deference to the other. Eventually my mother answered.

So the first thing my dad did was to look at her, to smile a big, genuine smile full of love and admiration. Then he looked away, his eyes up slightly and then closed. He took a quick, deep breath and fought back tears because a fire storm of emotion erupted in him. He feels it.

And life is full. Full of memories, full of love. Full of pleading and resentment, prayer and thanksgiving, abuse and reconciliation, sin and grace.  He feels these all.  And it shows. And that is worth teaching your students. Feel it all. Deeply. And from that, love.