A few years back, my wife and I were out for lunch with some friends.
We were having a great time together, catching up on our lives, laughing a bit, and judging each other about what we planned to order off the menu.
During the course of our meal, the conversation turned to our families. At that point, our kids were still young, so our stories were filled with visits to parks, school milestones, and what life would be like when they became teenagers (note: it is both super fun and super scary—keep us in your prayers). The stories were flowing from all sides of the table.
Then the strangest thing happened.
Out of nowhere, a comment was made to me by someone who didn’t know us very well:
“You didn’t grow up with a dad, right?”
Wait, what?
Did I hear that correctly? Where did they get that intel? Can they even ask that?
“Um, no—I did. My dad is one of my closest friends.”
Needless to say, even with the kindest of attitudes, the rest of the meal was wonderfully awkward.
Now, that assumption, based on either misinformation or a broken stereotype, couldn’t be any further from the truth. My dad has been in my life for 44 years and counting. I consider him one of my best friends and wisest voices.
Just recently, he drove a crazy distance to watch his grandson play basketball, hang out with his granddaughter on the eve of her 16th birthday, and watch copious amounts of college basketball with me (March Madness opening weekend is the best sports weekend!).
My dad has been a great example of hard work, discipline, ownership, and growth. I am a better dad to my kids because he was a great dad to me. As we both get older, we are mindful that our time grows shorter by the minute, so I will use every moment I have to gain his insights.
When Moses received the Ten Commandments from the LORD (Exodus 20:1-21), we must note that the first four directives are vertical in their scope—built on our relationship with God, while the latter six are horizontal—built on our relationships with one another.
And the first one of the horizontals?
Honoring our parents (Exodus 20:12).
“Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” (Exodus 20:12)
Now, as a teen, even as a Christian, that was never easy. I wanted to do my own thing a lot, and my dad’s way of seeing the world felt…old? Antiquated? Not very fun.
I can now look back to see how much of his own fears and worries were being pushed on me.
I think of Esau trading his birthright for a quick meal (Genesis 25:29-34) and remember my dad yelling at me, “No matter how hungry you are, save your money and eat at home! Or at least bring a sandwich!”
This is every father’s fear: that the good lesson they are trying to instill will be left aside for quick fixes, easy hustles, and bad habits. That, like Esau, their kids will give up their birthrights (long-term blessing and covering) for something less-than that will only last for a moment.
This is why moments of disciplining (more than merely punishment; rather, moments of intense mentoring) help shape us and prepare us for the pains of life to come (Hebrews 12:7).
So, I aim to honor my dad by remembering his lessons and putting them into practice while also learning from the things he struggled with and got wrong along the way.
I honor him in how I treat my neighbour when we can’t agree on where the excess snow should go after shoveling the driveway.
I honor him in how I complete tasks.
I honor him when he says, “Call your grandmother,” and I do it.
So, I aim to honor my dad by remembering his lessons and putting them into practice while also learning from the things he struggled with and got wrong along the way.
I honor him by taking in his advice but also trusting my gut to potentially forge a new trail—because it’s not about just following his words but about realizing that he helped shape me into a man who could figure it out himself with humility.
I honor him by owning my failures, learning from them, and aiming to pass the lessons on to my own kids.
I honor him by carrying his last name proudly. I am of House Chase, son of Collin, grandson of James. I am second of my name, and that is a very cool thing!
(Okay, fun fact: While I have been working on this article, my dad just FaceTimed me.)
Why? No reason. Just to chat. He didn’t even realize he called, but was glad to shoot the breeze with me. We talked about my grandparents, my sister, and his upcoming trip to Barbados.
Did the call take me out of my writing rhythm?
You bet.
Was it worth taking the call to be reminded of how blessed I am?
Of course.
Today, if you can, honor your dad. Let him know you’ve learned from him and are better because of him.
If your relationship is fractured or non-existent, honor him by not passing on those traits to those closest to you.
If he has passed on, honor him by living up to his standards.
Be bold for him. Be bold because of him.
And to my own dad, who’ll read this and definitely ask for fact-checkers:
Thanks for everything. I am a better man because of you. And you should thank the Lord that you look like me, dude. You’re welcome.
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