Clark Cothern - At the Heart of Every Great Father: The Heart of Jesus

A T THE H EART OF E VERY G REAT F ATHER
1998 by Clark Cothern

Published by Multnomah Books

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture references are from The Holy Bible, New International Version 1973, 1978, 1984, by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.

Also quoted:

The Living Bible ( TLB ) 1971 by Tyndale House Publishers
The Message 1993 by Eugene H. Peterson

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission.

Published in the United States by WaterBrook Multnomah, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House Inc., New York.

Multnomah and its mountain colophon are registered trademarks of Random House Inc.

For information contact:
Multnomah Books
12265 Oracle Boulevard, Suite 200
Colorado Springs, CO 80921

Library of Congress CataloginginPublication Data Cothern, Clark.
At the heart of every great father/Clark Cothern.
p.cm. eISBN: 978-0-307-77864-2
1. Fathers. 2. Father and child. 3. Fatherhood. 4. FatherhoodReligious aspectsChristianity. I. Title.
HQ756.C675 1998 97-32501
306.8742dc21

v3.1

S he covered her head with the pillow, trying to muffle the click, click, click of the keyboard. The bedroom of our little mobile home was strategically located one thin wall away from the laundry room where my computer sat on a door-turned-desk between the washing machine and the dryer. (Im still oddly overcome with a compulsion to write every time I hear a rinse cycle. I feel strangely agitated for some reason.)

In fact, her ears restedor tried to restonly sixteen inches from the noisy keyboard, since the beds headboard backed up against the very wall where I sat, jotting down the funny thing the kids did that day before I forgot it.

Around ten-thirty or eleven Id kiss her and say, I shouldnt be too long, and shed reply, See you in the morning, sweetheart. But she said it with a smile (most of the time). Then, at 1:00 or 2:00 or 3:00 A.M. as I tried to stealth my way under the covers, shed half open an eye, say Good story, huh? and then roll back over and plummet instantly back into the dark depths of sleep.

That routine began about ten years before Larry Libby called and said, My first reaction to this manuscript is enthusiastic. Ill see if the other folks at Multnomah are as positive about it as I am.

I couldnt possibly count the number of nights she dealt with this sleep-depriving affliction. Youll be happy to know, however, that since we are no longer in the mobile home and since my computer is located within the narrow confines of our upstairs bedroom, I have, with great self-control, altered my schedule, trying very hard not to write past 11:00 P.M. these days. It makes for better sleep and a more harmonious marriage.

Four feet from the foot of our bed, in the bottom right drawer of my much-too-large desk, there sits a weathered file folder, jammed between Advent and Anger, with titles scratched out and new ones written below them. The final title at the bottom of the list says, At the heart of every great father. Inside the folder, along with handwritten notes, contracts, and rough drafts, are eight nicely typed letters, each on beautiful stationery, all from well-respected publishing companies. They each say, through carefully crafted words, in one way or another, Sorry. Youve been rejected.

These years of experiences, including the computer in the laundry room, have been the mixing bowl. It took a while to gather all the ingredients for this particular project. Now the cake is finished. Ten years is a long time to bake a cake. Or write a book. Or stay married to a writer.

Joy, you continue to amaze me and those who know me, as you successfully navigate the complex and sometimes very bumpy roads upon which you careen through the roles of wife, mother, friend, lover, counselor, peacemaker, mercy show-er, encourager, pastors wife, advice giver, secretary, listener, prison minister, companion, and more.

At the heart of every great father is the Spirit, producing those character qualities we call fruit. There is another factor, though, just as vital. I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but Ive deduced that a father wouldnt be a father without a woman to be the kids mother. Beside every great father is a Spirit-filled woman we call wife.

This book is lovingly dedicated to you, Joy, because you are the word dedication with skin on. You are the real hero of this book. (Well, actually, God is the real hero, and you play the best supporting role.) You have worked incredibly hard for this book by enduring my compulsive behavior for over nineteen years. You are the only person on the planet who patiently put up with the endless revisions and who waited for hours after I said, Ill be there just as soon as I finish this chapter.

Youre the one who worked long hours in the college business office so I could have free tuition. Youre the one who managed those high-rise office buildings so I could get through seminary in two and a half years instead of five (like many of our friends). Youre the one who left the cushy comfort of the corporate world so I could fulfill my call and you could wipe noses, bottoms, and tears full-time for twelve years now.

And to top it all off, youve carved a comfortable home out of a pastors salary. Talk about your delayed gratification!

Joy, Ill love you forever. Ill like you for always. As long as Im living, your husband Ill be.

W alter watched his plane take off without him.

Dont you just hate it when that happens? Leaves you with a sinking feeling in your gut. But most of the time, its just a matter of inconvenience. You can usually wait a couple hours and catch another plane.

Walter couldnt do that.

Walter was the pilot.

At 2:03 P.M. Walters spirits soared as he inspected the planes engine, preparing for a fun little dash into the atmosphere. At 2:04 P.M. his heart sank into his socks.

The pilots eyes bugged as he watched the plane pull at the tie-downs like a balky stallion, yank em loose, and gallop down the runway toward freedom. Walter hurled himself in pursuit, racing after his runaway airplane (and wondering all the while what he was going to do if he caught it).

The plane lifted off and flew about seventy-five feet then touched down again. Thats when Walter really