by Eric Ludy

For all of you that have never changed a baby’s diaper, I’m going to give you a supremely valuable piece of wisdom.  It’s a bit of wisdom that would have been quite helpful to me in those early days of fatherhood: 

When in the midst of a diaper change, be expectant, because there is always more where that came from.

Parenting is full of surprises.  Some smelly, some sticky, some hilarious, some quite inconvenient, and some that are pure pleasure. 

It’s an amazing thing raising a boy.  The surprises are endless.  And that little bit of wisdom mentioned above, could actually be applied to far more than diaper drama.  It could also be said, when observing a child’s imagination, be expectant, because there is always more where that came from.  Or how about giggles, adventures, and grass stains?  For better or for worse, they just keep coming.  

My four year old, Hudson, is a little dynamo – his brain never stops churning, his mouth never stops motoring, and his body never seems to stop moving.  Of course that is not entirely true, seeing that he is flopped on the floor of my bedroom as I write this completely comatose.  He was running, jumping, diving, soaring, building, demolishing and then suddenly he was fast asleep.  Such is the life of a little boy. 

There are a lot of eyes that watch my little boy.  Seeing as how I have championed a return to true masculinity, gritty bravehearted living, and hairy-chested heroism – a lot of people want to know how this will pass on to my progeny.  Well, one thing I’m certain of is that the epic stuff of the Gospel life is not passed along merely through wise words, parental discipline, and practical life training, but primarily through the awakening and enabling power of God Himself.  In other words, I’m dependent upon God to help me in this “Hudson becoming a great man” thing.  I can talk-up “great manhood” to him and I can hopefully live it out in front of him, but God still must intersect my little boy’s life and supercharge his soul with the Grace of the Almighty. 

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Yes, I’m dependent, but happily so. 

To be honest, the desire I have for my son to find the fullness of the Christ-life is strong within me.  I yearn to see him turn out perfectly manly, with a chiseled heavenly soul, marked by honor and grace, and fueled by a fiery passion for His beloved Christ.  After all, what is parenting a boy if it is not to foster such an end? 

However, I am wholly confident in the fact that though I can’t make this happen, even through my best efforts, my Beloved God is more interested in this happening in Hudson’s heart and life than even I am, and He has said to me, “Ask, Eric, and I will do the work of Grace in his soul – I will rouse your little boy to rise up as a man – I will do it!”

Parenting as an extension of God’s Grace is a fearful and yet explosively thrilling task.  I’ve surrendered my parenting over to my King and He has assured me that if I follow His lead and allow Him to enable me to pray for my kiddos as he prayed for us in Gethsemane, love my little ones just as He loved us all the way to Calvary, and die for them the way He died for us on that tree – that the vestibule of heaven will be open to them and they will discover the intimate touch of Grace upon their souls. 

Hudson and I talk about Jesus a lot.  But I sense that right now, at the tender age of four, he understands only the wire frame of the Gospel, but he doesn’t grasp his personal need for the power of it.  He is constantly around prayer and spiritual discussion, but the deeper concepts of the Faith have not yet grabbed a hold his boyish soul.  He could probably answer trivial questions about Jesus, his birth, death, and resurrection, but he doesn’t yet have the substance of Jesus Christ alive within. 

As a father, I yearn for that day that I can share in intimate spiritual communion with my son.  I want to talk with him about the deeper life, laugh with him about the dazzling beauty of the throne room of Grace, and cry with him over the astounding mercies of our Mighty King. 

I know that such thrilling occasions mark my horizons.  Such is the beauty, blessing, and bounty of Christian parenting.  So I patiently wait and eagerly expect. 

Tomorrow morning, Hudson and I leave on our very first “Father/Son grand adventure.”  We are headed out to Idaho where I will be speaking at a conference.  He very likely won’t be overly engrossed in my message.  There is a high likelihood that he will be coloring, doing a puzzle, or living out an imaginary adventure while I’m on stage preaching my heart out.  But, oh, what I wouldn’t give to see him lay hold of the things I’m going to be sharing tomorrow night. What I wouldn’t give to know that his heart was burning with the very same fire that I keep stoked within my chest.  Tomorrow night I’ll be talking about the Bravehearted Gospel, the life wholly spent for the Glory of Jesus Christ.  Is it possible that my four year old might catch the vision of the Cross even though so very young? 

It’s an amazing thing raising a boy.  It’s a life full of surprises. And wouldn’t it be the most wonderful of surprises to have my little boy come up to me and proclaim, “Daddy, I met Jesus and He took over my life!”

Such joys are heaven on earth.  And you can just hear God whisper in those moments, “Be expectant, Eric, because there is always more where that came from.”

Editor’s Note:

Eric Ludy is always bragging about his kids.  “Oh, Hudson rode his bike today!” “Oh, Harper picked up a rock and threw it today.”  “Oh, did you see it, Kipling drooled today?” It would appear that the poor fellow turned into one of those dads that whips out a ream of family photos every time someone accidently asks, “So, Eric, how are the kids?”  He’s confessed that he’s always feared that one day he might actually drive around a mini-van, but word on the street says that he has been holding clandestine conversations about such an uncool investment with a Toyota dealer down in Denver.  If he actually goes through with it, we will have to freshly evaluate if he can still continue contributing to a blog with such a manly name to it.  I mean come on, The Bravehearted Blog better have bravehearted folks at the helm, don’t you think?  Oh, and for those of you that are thoroughly confused now as to who the editor of this Blog really is, I will give you three hints.  He was nicknamed “Loogy” in high school.  His mom has described his body type as that of a “golfer.”  And once, while attempting to shmooze his way into medical school, he misspelled his last name to the head of the program.  I think the actual quote was, “Sure, Don, you have a pen?  Okay, it’s L-O-O-D-Y.”  And if you are wondering, the poor fellow never made it as a doctor.   So, if you aren’t totally convinced that this guy’s opinion is good for nothing, feel free to visit his personal website at www.ericludy.com.

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