Like Father, Like Son, I Guess

I can see meeting notes and various legal documents organized into piles neatly on my desk, as I peek through the glass door of my office. With my morning coffee in one hand, and a backpack with after work running clothes hanging from my shoulder, I awkwardly and carefully turn the key with my free hand to open my office door. Today is Monday, and based on the amount of paper sitting on the label for "Monday," my Monday appears to be pretty light. However, I already dread Tuesday. It looks to be a doozy. 

My office could be described as neat and organized. Everything has a place. If something were moved, I'd notice. Perhaps it's compensating for a mediocre intellect and a fuzzy memory, but preparation and organization have always been my best friends. I enter reminders and "to-do" notes in my computer calendar like my life depends on it. My greatest fear is losing something or not being prepared. Thinking back on my life, this isn't a new practice or process for me. I've always been "this way." I organized matchbox cars as a kid according to style and color. Red trucks never sat in the same line on the floor as green cars...no way. My baseball card collection was organized by team in my baseball card folder. You can't have a Yankees player on the same page as a Tigers player, that's just crazy. I could go on and on, but you'd likely think I'm crazier than you already do.

I no doubt drive Amber nuts with these tendencies at home as well. Coming in from work I have a set routine which usually consists of closing the blinds to block out the afternoon sun, grumbling under my breath about random toys in the floor, changing out of work clothes, and promtply laying out my work clothes for the next day. Looking under my bathroom sink, I assure I have at least one "back up" for every toiletry item known to man. It's not enough that I have shaving cream for the morning, I have to have a can ready and waiting, you know...in case I run out unexpectedly. It's strange I know. 

Despite being with my kids every waking moment that I'm not at work, it's always interesting to hear how others perceive them or view them. I'm always shocked when I reluctantly ask a mom how JB behaved while playing at a friends house and she responds, "he's so quiet and polite." Really? Okie Dokie then. 

This week marks the end of another school year for JB. JB has had an amazing teacher this year. One of the cool things he does is to post Facebook live videos of things going on in the classroom for parents to see. So, when the awarding of classroom year end "superlatives" were taking place, I gladly took a 10 minute break from work and watched. The announcements began and I kept listening intently for JB's name. Most athletic...nope. Most likely to be on a TV show...nope. Most likely to be president...nope. Most organized...JB Moore. Wait. What? I must have misheard that. Most organized? Then I sat in silence for a minute while I mentally flipped through pages in my memory of JB's childhood. I began to remember him sorting toys, eating snacks according to colors. I smiled sitting at my desk, like father, like son, I guess. 

Amber and I love watching the show "Long Lost Family." It's about adults that were placed for adoption as kids and their subsequent search for their birth family. I always find it amazing and interesting how similar the adoptees are to their birth family members, despite the fact that they are essentially strangers. Not only do they look alike due to genetics, their mannerisms are the same, they often have similar interests, hobbies, and professions. It's a pretty powerful example of nature versus nurture. The show almost always culminates in the joyful reunion of the adoptee with their biological parents/family members. As believers this is not unlike the joyous reunion we will one day share with our family, and most importantly, with our heavenly Father. 

I've heard one argument for the existence of God that we as mortal beings have this innate sense of longing or restlessness. Have you ever felt that way? I have. It's like a weird feeling of discontentment despite abundant blessings. A feeling of emptiness despite a rich and full life. A lingering loneliness despite being surrounded by family and friends. If the world were formed from dust and by happenstance, where does this unexplained and unending desire to seek and find come from? It's God. It's our Father. When we are separated from Him, when we are away from His physical presence, we long for Him. We miss Him. We want a reunion. 

Despite not hearing His beautiful voice audibly, and not seeing His wonderful face physically, our Father is no doubt with us and in us. I believe that with my whole heart. Our Father, through the holy spirit, resides within us. We are His children. In Romans chapter 8, we are told that "the spirit of God dwells in us." We are told something very similar in 1 Corinthians chapter 3. In Ephesians chapter 3, we are told that "Christ dwells in our hearts." 

Whether they realize it or not, most men's greatest legacy, in my humble opinion, is their sons/their children. Their name and their memory lives on through their children long after they are gone. Knowing that my Father lives in me, through the Holy Spirit, I sincerely want others to know Him by knowing me. I'm a serious work in progress, no doubt. However, when my time on earth is done, when I no longer feel a sense of longing, restlessness, discontentment, emptiness, and loneliness because I'm reunited with my family and my Father, I want others to remember me and say he was far from perfect, but he was loving, he was kind, he was encouraging, and he was accepting. Like Father, Like Son, I guess.

Much Love, Adam