Sons of God's Generals: Unlocking the Power of Godly Inheritance (15 page)

4. Beware the Pendulum

Having graduated from school long ago, I (thankfully) no longer make use of Newton’s third law. Still, the principle behind the law is important—every action has an equal and opposite reaction. For every hurting person I encounter, I can see this law at work. Those who experienced abusive leadership in church seek organic house church movements where leadership is completely decentralized; those whose childhood lacked structure, wealth, love, whatever, seek to remedy that problem in their own life. This isn’t wrong. God knows no one has found the perfect theology, the perfect parenting style, the perfect system of government. I advise you, however, before implementing any changes—or making vows never to do this thing, or that thing—to seek the Lord.

In many ways this comes back to the baby and the bathwater. Not everything from your negative experiences should be discarded. Recognize man’s tendency to over-correct and move from one extreme to the next, like a pendulum swinging back and forth. Eventually the pendulum will come to rest in the center, at a place of balance, but how many generations will pass before that happens? Ask the Holy Spirit to open your eyes to your biases and give you fresh insight into the models of government, parenting, church planting, etc. that will help you grow in the fullness of Christ.

The Bible is full of tension. I could write a book on the tension between ministry and family, among other things. Just quickly—recognize the tension in the gospel between loving your wife (family) as Christ loved the church and being willing to sacrifice everything for His Kingdom. I’m not sure the early missionaries, evangelists, or even my parents got it right, and maybe the revelation of Christ in the Bible should inform our understandings of Old Testament passages, or even Paul’s personal beliefs, but be careful to not revolt against perceived injustice to the point of idolatry of family or extermination of pastoral leadership. I believe there is room for a paradigm shift in our understanding of community, relationship, and family, so by all means, think outside the box. But in all things, seek the Holy Spirit, lest your hurts lead you to inhabit a deserted island and wrap tinfoil on your head.

I don’t know how my story will end, or where God will ultimately lead us. Perhaps, to my parent’s everlasting joy, I’ll end up—officially—in ministry. Still, like the amazing parents they are, they are completely supporting and blessing my choice to enter the legal profession. Regardless of
what
I’m doing, I know that I will be forever grateful to a God who softened my heart to the point of melting and restored everything the enemy tried to tear asunder. I so love and appreciate my dad and mom. Through their life of constant sacrifice and obedience, I witnessed gospel living as normal, everyday life. The enemy tried to blind me to the amazing value of my experiences and the blessings I received via my parents. Thankfully, God called me out of darkness, killed the fatted calf, and covered me with a robe of righteousness. I know He is ready, willing, and able to do that same for all those that call on His name. For those reading this who struggle with relating with God, earthly parents, siblings, whomever, I pray that the Holy Spirit would begin to work miracles in your life.

“Joshua, would you please come into the living room? I need to speak with you.”
Uh oh,
was my first reaction. You know what I mean, that first sense of,
What have I done now?
I was playing GI Joes in my bedroom and really resented being interrupted during my playtime. At that moment, nothing was more important to me then seeing my Joes destroying the works of Cobra and his evil forces. But I listened, with an attitude, and started walking toward the living room. While walking I heard the crying of my sister and wondered,
Oh no, what is going on?
I entered the living room to see my father kneeling over a bowl of water that had my sister’s feet in it. He was washing her feet and asking her to forgive him of all the wrongs that he had ever done to her. Now it was my turn, and he called me over to the seat. I sat down and he placed my feet into the bowl. Thinking to myself all the while,
This is gross, my sister’s feet were just in here.
He started to pray over me while washing my feet. Then he pulled out a sheet of paper and started listing off things that he had done to me in the past that had hurt me. While reading the list he started crying, which in turn made me cry. He looked into my eyes and said, “Joshua, do you forgive me for all the times that I misrepresented the Father’s love to you?”

Of course, in tears I jumped out of my seat, threw my arms around his neck, and said, “Yes, Daddy, I forgive you.”

Every child wants to hear the words, “I love you, son.” Words that are not spoken to motivate a performance from the child but are words that affirm the child’s right to believe they belong. These were the parents I grew up with. My dad was not always this kind and soft-hearted. My siblings knew a different father. One that was emotionally detached, who had no clue how to love his own family. Being the youngest of three children, I did not experience much of my father’s dysfunctional behavior before he had this transformation in the Father’s love. I had only heard the stories of Captain Bligh and the terror he would inflict in the hearts of everyone he met.

By the age of 21 my father was known as one of the best fishing boat captains on the east coast of the southern US. His drive in life was to become top hook (the best fisherman with the biggest load of fish every time he came to the dock). It did not matter who got hurt along the way to achieving that goal. He had learned that if you are to be noticed in life you must outdo everyone around you.

His entire life he performed for the love of others. Growing up under the roof of a great tennis coach and World War II veteran, my father was trained to be the best at everything he did. His father would not show him any type of love unless he proved that he was the best at what he was doing. Never did my father hear the words
I love you
until he was 20 years old. In the hospital in a drug-induced coma not expected to live, he heard his dad finally say, “Jack, I love you!” Living in the shadow of his older brother’s stardom in college tennis, my father did not feel that he had a right to be in his father’s presence unless he out-performed everyone around.

His father, Barney, grew up with no father, no one to help him develop in life. Known as the town bastard, other kids were not allowed to play with this fatherless boy. Barney grew up as an orphan and determined that he would raise his sons better than he was raised. His greatest mistake in trying to do something right was he tried to live his life-long dreams through his sons. Driving them to succeed instead of guiding them to destiny fulfilled. This developed a habit structure with the Frost men that you have to beat everyone else at everything you do in order to have value. My father, in turn, judged his dad for not fathering with love and acceptance, causing the cycle to continue.

This learned behavior followed my dad, Jack, even after he was saved and in Bible school. He had to have the best grades, lead the most people to the Lord, pray the most, and read the Bible the most. If my dad did not finish his daily list of survival at being the best, he was often left with the sense of feeling as if he had no value in life. If you cannot beat everyone else at what they do, then you do not have a right to
be
.

Growing up, life for my father was all about “the look.” “The look” he would see in his father’s face if he did or did not perform right. If he was “top hook,” the captain of the boat bringing in the most fish, he got the look of praise, love, and joy. But if he was not the best then he got the look of disappointment or anger. “The look” that sends the silent message,
You don’t measure up in my eyes or heart.
But the other look is what we are all looking for. You know that look—the look that should send the message of unconditional love and acceptance. When performance is demanded, acceptance is withheld until you accomplish your task.

Most of my father’s life he did not find that place of acceptance and love in his father’s eyes. This led him to become just like his father. There are laws of relationship in operation in everyone’s life. The law of “when you judge someone you become like the one you judge” began to have consequences now in my own dad’s life. Many years later my father found himself with a family of his own. A Christian now, but his identity was still rooted in the character of Captain Bligh. He treated his family the same way his father had treated him years ago. My father never physically abused us like his father did to him, but he did make us earn and perform for his love like his father made him.
You see, how you believe you have to earn love or acceptance from God and others is how you will make others gain your love and acceptance.
One of the major weaknesses of my father was his need for excellence through your performance. It was hard for him to rest or show love and acceptance without your first giving him something or doing something for him.

One day, as I was pouring myself a drink of water in the kitchen I accidently dropped my cup and water went everywhere. My father jumped out of his chair, rushed over, gave me the “look of disappointment,” and said, “You better clean that up.” It was cases like this that made my early childhood always feel like I had to walk on eggshells around my dad. Anytime I would mess up around him I was always scared he would go off on me or just give me that look of disgust. This left me always feeling like I needed to perform for his love. Which was the very thing my father hated about his childhood and judged his earthly father for.

Then one day my father came home from a conference that he had attended. There was a man there by the name of Jack Winter who asked my dad if he had ever been blessed by his dad. Jack Winter prayed a father’s blessing, and it forever changed how my dad loved his own family. God does have a sense of humor. In case you did not catch that, Jack Winter prayed for Jack Frost to receive a revelation of the Father’s love.

When I next saw my dad after this encounter, I could just feel there was something different about him. He explained to us children what had happened to him at these meetings and how he had had this amazing encounter with God’s love. Still being young, I did not really fully understand what he was saying. I was kind of off in my own world thinking about how I could beat the next video games or surf the next wave. Then, over time, I saw how different he treated his children and my mom, his wife. I saw how much softer he was toward us all. I wondered, though, how long this was going to last. It lasted. He exchanged the old Captain Bligh behavior for a father who really wanted to know how to love and affirm his family.

During my middle school years, I began to have difficulty with academics in school. To cover up my struggle with this I began to find ways to amuse my other classmates, thus taking the focus off of my issue. One day my teacher called my dad, desperate for an answer on how to handle me. How my father chose to handle this has impacted my life forever. At that time I was in eighth grade, and just like any other middle schooler I wanted to be the life of the party. There was no problem with this, I did not think, except I tended to try to be the life of the party during class while my teachers were trying to teach. That did not really go over well with my teachers. Letters were sent home, consequences were given to me to try and motivate me to change my behavior, but none of it seemed to have any effect on me at all. I continued to misbehave in class by disrupting the flow of the teachers. Frustrated with my behavior, my teachers met and decided that my homeroom teacher should contact my parents for more help with why I continued to get worse in school. They said that I was a bright student, got good grades, but just always wanted to be the life of the party or the class clown. One teacher even admitted that what made it so hard was, “He is really naturally funny, and it becomes hard for me not to laugh, so I do not lose control over the class.” My dad told the teachers that he would take care of it and thanked them for calling him.

I came home from school that day feeling particularly good about my day and how life went. As soon as I walked through the door, my father called me into his office. He asked me how my day was. Thinking back on a couple of good comments I had made in class that day, I responded with great confidence that I had had a really great day. I remember telling Dad how much fun I had that particular day. He responded, “How did your teachers like the way you were behaving today?”

“Well they just do not get a joke,” I responded.

After grounding me for a week, he said, “If it happens again you are going to get a spanking.” But being 13 years old, my father had told me I was too old for spankings so this did not seem like much of a deterrent for me. I told myself,
He is just saying that. He will never really spank me again; I am too old.

After a couple of weeks of great behavior I started getting bored in class. So once again I went to my old ways of making class less boring and more fun, and once again all three of my teachers called home on the same day. The way my father tells the story is that he was glad I was not home when they called because he would have killed me. Very frustrated with how to handle me, my dad did what he should have done a long time prior to my teachers calling home. He went into his office and asked Father God how he should handle this situation without misrepresenting the Father’s love to me.

When I got home from school, my father called me into his office. I knew that this was it—my life as I had known it was about to come to an end, because my expectation was my father was about to go off on me. I walked into the room and he said, “Joshua, I do not know what else to do to help you solve this problem. It is time for a spanking. It’s going to be five hits with Mr. Smack.” As a child I had been quite familiar with Mr. Smack. Mr. Smack on one side had a colorful set of lips and the other side was his name written in big bold letters and a saying: “Have a kiss from Mr. Smack.” He was the five-gallon paint stirrer my parents used to discipline us when everything else failed. So to be confronted with Mr. Smack as a teenager let me know I had gone too far with my behavior.