“You sound just like your dad.”
“That looked just like Grandpa.”
Those comments from Mrs. Sweetie or from my favorite children always make me smile. I still have my dad around, as well as my step-dad of 44 years and my father-in-law of 31 years. God has truly blessed me with their ongoing influence and I am still learning from all of them.
Some of my habits and mannerisms are probably genetic, some picked up subconsciously by environmental repetition, and some deliberately chosen by observation and admiration. Now that my children are grownups, I wonder how they will look like me, if they will want to, and what they will want to imitate. I wonder if my grandchildren will say to their parents, “That was just like Grandpa.”
It’s also pretty cool to be quotable.
For me, that is a little different because so much of my life is about the written or publicly spoken word. Preacher, blogger, author, podcaster, and songwriter are some of the ways words have been part of my life. I always hope that I’ll say something impactful to everyone who reads or hears the words that I share, but I’ve often been unaware of how a turn of phrase has impacted those closest to me—the ones who know whether or not my life is really consistent with the words I publicly profess.
Back in 1993, I released my first cassette album of original songs. “In the Family Way” was a collection of country-ish gospel songs with a family theme, written along with a sermon series on the family that I preached between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day—one song for each sermon.
My babies were really babies back then, 5 and 2. They have no memory of the sermons, but since the songs were recorded, they heard them growing up. And to my complete amazement, some of the words stuck with them into their adult years. And that has resulted in some of my most prized possessions.
On my office wall is a montage of photos of me with each individual member of my family. It was a gift from my daughter and son-in-law. In the center is an adapted quote from one of my songs, “May he always love You much more than he loves us.”
The two other items are in my home office and both have quotes from another song. On the name tag on my rented vest at my son’s wedding, he quoted these words: “I’ve discovered you’re not perfect, but as a child I couldn’t tell.” He followed that with a personal message that is just between the two of us.
This year, on my first Father’s Day as a grandpa, I got a custom card with the rest of the refrain: “If your example’s not perfection, I don’t really mind. Just teach me, Dad, the lessons that you have learned from life.”
I hope I have. I hope it continues.
Question: What does being “quotable” look like for you?
