My Father’s Influence

Growing up, the last thing I expected to become was an editor. For starters, I was a miserable student—“miserable” in both senses of the word. From almost the first day of first grade, I struggled to keep up with the class, and language was never one of my better subjects—at least not until tenth grade. The difference-maker then was my dad.
He had been an Army war correspondent during WWII and then a newspaper reporter for several years. He had changed careers in order to better support his growing family, but journalism was in his bones. When he offered to type one of my handwritten tenth grade papers and saw how utterly clueless I was about writing, he clicked into gear. And when he explained what needed fixing and why, things started clicking for me.
Over the next couple of years my English grades improved, which gave my sagging self-confidence a boost, which helped me pull up my grades in other subjects. It would be another 25 years before I tried to do anything more with what Dad had taught me, but when I did, much to my surprise, I discovered that his passion for pushing words around a page had been contagious. So here I am, thanks in large part to my dad, doing what I now love to do, as part of a close and talented team, for a God I love and a publication I believe in. Who could ask for more?
That’s my story and that’s my dad. The two seem inseparable now, and I think that’s the way God means for it to be. Good fathers help make us who we are. They are one of His special gifts, and fatherhood is one of His special callings. The more I think about that, the more I wonder why we waited so long to do this, our first issue in tribute to fathers.

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1 Corinthians 15:33 ESV / Do not be deceived: “Bad company ruins good morals.”

1 Peter 3:16 ESV / Having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame.

Galatians 5:7-9 ESV / You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth? This persuasion is not from him who calls you. A little leaven leavens the whole lump.