My Three Sons

I only need twelve letters to articulate my most profound understanding of appropriate pride and personal fulfillment:
Ryan, Alex, Seth.

Ryan is my oldest son, my firstborn. He will turn 26 this Sunday. I would willingly confess that I have not kept in touch with him in recent years as much as my heart desires, but I am reminded that he has taught me what it means to live without regrets, always facing forward, living in the present. Ryan most certainly cannot be captured by his occupation, nor has he circumscribed his existence by any particular chosen career. At present, he is building homes. Working at the Baton Rouge affiliate of Habitat for Humanity, Ryan coordinates the efforts of volunteers, matching the available human and material resources to the dynamic needs of hopeful homeowners. A graduate of Centre College with a major in philosophy, sharing my deep love for well-developed thought, Ryan has always chosen his words as carefully as he now chooses his tools; his thoughts are professionally crafted, and are not shared until they have passed the quality review of his demanding and critical mind. Rare among philosophers, who sadly tend to offer thought as surrogate for meaningful action, Ryan is more articulate in his living than in his speech. Relentlessly analytical even in his choice of food, clothing, and shelter, Ryan routinely tests and demonstrates the "categorical imperative" of Immanuel Kant: "Act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law." (I find this difficult even to comprehend; much more daunting to live by.) Minimizing what he demands from this world, maximizing what he contributes to it, Ryan has multiplied the gifts he has been given, and is leaving each piece of the world that he walks through better off than he found it. In him I am well pleased.

Alex is my second son, the middle child. He is 22. An easy-going peacemaker in every environment, and never one to seek the spotlight, Alex diffuses tension and promotes tranquility simply by his attentive presence. A fifth-year senior at the University of Louisville, with a Computer Information Systems major pencilled in (pending further changes), Alex refrains from stone-chiseled decisions, preferring the flexibility of post-it notes and the versatility of electronic edits. Circumstances change unpredictably, and Alex is prepared to change with them. Plan C is just as acceptable as Plans A and B were, and if you need to switch back to A, that won't be a problem. Sharing the best attributes of my disposition (along with a couple of my less helpful traits), Alex carries with him an attitude for all seasons. I remember an illustrative backpacking trip, when my normally cheerful spirit was dampened by rain in the middle of a tiring trek up Thunderhead Mountain. Alex interpreted the same events from a different perspective: he had run out of water in his canteen, and the rain provided him opportunity to drink, as he used large leaves to pool the showers of refreshment. It was then that I began to understand his philosophy of life, suggested but not captured by his tongue-in-cheek declaration, "the world is conspiring together for my happiness." Alex works for me as an intern, on a team of brilliant professionals twenty years older with twenty times his experience. Never noticeably intimidated by either the impossible tasks or the inflated expectations, Alex applies and expands his skill with a quiet diligence that always contributes and never detracts. In every encounter, though often unnoticed and unappreciated (and sometimes at the expense of his own personal well-being), he brings a measure of that most illusive treasure: peace. Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God." This peacemaker is my son. In him I am well pleased.

Seth is my youngest son, the "baby of the family." He will turn 20 next month. No crybaby this one; Seth has developed a toughness that surprises and impresses me. (His older brothers may rightly claim some credit, for creating an environment in which toughness was cultivated, if not always facilitated!) His interest in the physical and mental discipline of the martial arts informs his investment in the spiritual disciplines of prayer and fasting, producing a man driven to discover what is possible, but restrained by a growing understanding of what is wise. A highly imaginative child, Seth has become a creatively expressive man, with a demonstrated gift for recognizing and communicating profound truths. A junior at Campbellsville University, Seth is studying pastoral counseling. Never one to conform without a fight, Seth was a late adherent to the Christian faith, and an even later convert to the claims of academia. But late bloomers are often the most deep-rooted, and Seth has emerged as a disciplined student of all that life teaches. The son that produced the dreaded call from the emergency room (while we were on vacation 2000 miles away), and the son that dramatically put into words all of my shame and shortcomings as a father, is also the son who shares most deeply my greatest passion - the authentic articulation of the gospel of Jesus Christ to a skeptical and cynical world. He has already discovered many ways in which his gifts can be useful in the kingdom of God. He is on the verge of discovering many more. In him I am well pleased.

Just in case I haven't said it often enough, loudly enough, or clearly enough: I am very proud of my three sons.