The Love of a Father: Faith Principles of the Power of a Father's Love

By Ken Gordon

This book is a celebration of a father's love. Much is written about a mother's love, but little is ever said about a father's love, except around Father's Day. This insightful and thought-provoking book illustrates how a father's love is forgiving, everlasting, unconditional...and often misunderstood.

Using the Christian fait

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Dec 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781641117210

Ken Gordon

Ken Gordon is the father of four children. Previously, working as a youth minister, he created programs to help children learn self-respect and temperance, as well as reinforce the value of education and purpose in their lives. His wish is for all fathers to become more engaged and involved with their children, creating memories and special times. That was his inspiration for writing this children's series, along with modeling what being a loving and engaged dad looks like. He believes it is a father's responsibility-and his greatest joy-to create positive memories for his family, and who can argue that yummy food is always a great place to start?Other books in the series coming soon include Pizza Dad, Ice Cream Dad, Date Night Dad, Bible Dad, Homework Dad, Dinner Table Dad, and Good Night Dad. Ken and his wife are empty nesters. It was his wife's idea for him to write a children's book. The couple lives in Birmingham, AL, along with their chocolate Cockapoo, Cinco.

Book preview

A Salute to My Father

(Rev. Dr. Ken J. Gordon, Sr.)

I am not a statistic.

I did not grow up without a father in my household.

My father’s presence loomed (and looms) large in my life.

It was not just because my dad was seven-foot-four, 427 pounds, with size eighteen shoes.

That had nothing to do with how large he loomed in my life.

Okay, okay, so my dad was not that height and weight, but as a boy growing up, I felt like he was! When I looked at my dad, I saw a man that was larger than life. I saw a man with these huge shoes there was no way I could ever fill!

As I embark upon writing this book, I want you to know what and who informed my direction, understanding, and opinion of the love of a father. The what is Christ in my life. The who is my dad.

My parents have been married fifty-six years. My dad has been in my life my entire life. He has been a steadying presence. He has been wise counsel. He has been a source of inspiration. He has given me sagacity wrapped in humanity.

My dad is not perfect. My dad was never perfect. Although, you could not convince me of that when I was growing up. I thought my dad would mop up the floor with Superman and leave Batman hanging upside down in his cave.

My dad being imperfect and yet a great dad allowed me to see that I did not have to be perfect to be a great father.

My parents had three children. Together they raised two unbelievably awesome daughters and a pretty decent son. My older sister, Dr. Von Gordon, is a phenomenal businesswoman and human resources executive. Dr. Von is an incredibly skilled organizer and family advocate. She is that child every parent should hope to have. She is that child who is there for her parents as they age. She is that child who will put her life on hold in order to ensure her parents are taken care of. My younger sister, Dr. Gaylene Gordon, is a professor at a major university in New Jersey and is, hands down, the most brilliant of my parents’ three offspring. Dr. Gaylene is scary smart. She is also incredibly funny. She has a sense of humor like no one I have ever met. Her mind is quick and abstract. Some of the things she comes up with are just hilarious. She is equally adept as an educator. The intersection of education, criminal justice, and youth is her passion. I am so incredibly proud of both of my sisters and their accomplishments.

Why do I bring them up in a salute to my dad? I bring them up because my father had a lot to do with who they are and what they achieved. I say that because my father was the protector, provider, and priest that allowed all of us to thrive and find that which we love in our lives. He provided a layer of security that allowed all of us to enjoy protection from the world while our legs and wings grew strong. This is no disrespect to my mother and all she did to make us who we are. My mother, Rev. Dr. Shirley Gordon, is a phenomenal mother and woman; however, for the purpose of this book, I am focusing on the incredible influence my dad had on my life and the lives of my sisters.

What my parents demonstrated was when you combine the power of a strong, engaged, emotionally available, appropriately affectionate, godly father with a strong, engaged, virtuous, resourceful, godly mother, you get strong, confident, emotionally healthy, and spiritually connected children.

My father never molested my sisters (or me). No father ever should! My father never hit my mother or my sisters. My father respected them and ensured everyone else respected them as well.

My father was available to us. He was at every excruciatingly out-of-tune band concert performance in junior high. He was at my high school football games, even when I was riding the pine. He told us he loved us regularly. He hugged and kissed us. He resisted the asinine societal norm that showing emotions and saying I love you to your children as a man somehow makes you appear weak. He openly loved my mother and respected her, even when they disagreed. My father was the embodiment of the love of a father. He talked the talk. More importantly, he walked the walk.

My father took raising his children very personally. He was not going to allow another man to raise his kids. I know this because he said it a million times when I was growing up. His children—his responsibility. That is how my father was. No one would have to provide for us—he would. No one would have to buy Christmas toys for us—he would. No one would have to help us with our homework—he would. No one would have to cook their famous omelets on Saturday mornings—he would. When we would call and need to talk because we had drama going on in our lives, no one would have to talk to us and help us work through our drama—he…Okay, no, he wouldn’t do that; he would tell us to talk to our mom for that kind of stuff! But you get the picture. My dad was involved and engaged with his children, and it was his pleasure to be involved and engaged.

As I think back about all the wisdom and insight my dad gave me, I realize it made me a better man and a better father. Though my dad took a holistic approach to raising us, there were certain issues my dad stressed:

•  Education: Get your college degree! You will have plenty of time to party after you have those letters behind your name.

•  Police: Whenever confronted by police, be respectful and do all you can to get home that night. Nothing is more important.

•  Jail: It is a place you never want to go. Jail is not the place for Black men!

•  Physical fitness: What do you think kept me married and sane (he would tell me)!

•  Women: The minute you try to understand them, you have already messed up!

•  Children: Always take care of your children. Do not ever let another man, or woman, take care of what God entrusted to you.

•  Cleanliness: Do not make a woman have to clean up after you!

•  Household Duties: In your house there is nothing beneath you to do! A real man cooks, cleans, does laundry, irons, folds clothes, dresses the kids, and anything else necessary for the upkeep of the house.

•  Family: Family is a gift from God you must always cherish and put first.

•  Being a Dad: This must be the most important thing in your life with your children. Always make sure your children can count on you, and always be there for them.

•  Words: Be careful what you say, for you will have what you say. Speak strength and positivity to your children, and they will be strong and positive.

My dad is truly my greatest role model and the greatest man and father I know. I do not have to look on television, the movie screen, or the athletic field to find my earthly role model for the love of a father. I was blessed to grow up with him.

My prayer is that if you did not grow up with a great dad like I did, you will become one for your children.

My prayer is that if you did grow up with a great dad, you remind him on a regular basis, while you can.

I love you, Dad. You are the greatest father a son could ever have. I appreciate everything you did, every sacrifice you made, every positive word you spoke over my life. I appreciate that even when you failed, you still held your head up and learned from it. You never allowed defeat to keep you down. You always showed me a conqueror is not one who never goes down; a conqueror is one who never stays down. Thank you for showing the love of a father to me and my children. Thank you for teaching me to eat my grits with sugar and my biscuits with Karo syrup. Thank you for introducing me to the Oklahoma Sooners. Dad, just thank you!

I love you, man!

Blessings.

Introduction

I was not a great father. I wish I would have been. I truly wanted to be. I wanted children so badly. I wanted Mini-Mes. I wanted four children. I wanted the first to be a boy, the second to be a girl, the third to be a boy, and the last to be a girl. I had it all planned out. I did not try to fool myself. I knew exactly why I wanted children. I wanted children because I knew children provide unconditional love. Children excel at loving people who are imperfect.

Children look at flawed and damaged parents and see heroes. They clearly see the flaws. They clearly know the shortcomings. But they forgive anyway. No matter what happens, children always love their parents. Even when parents abuse them and mistreat them, children always have hope that the offending parent will get themselves together. They hope, often against logic, that the parent will one day wake up and apologize, and everything will be good.

I have counseled children who were abused by a parent. Illogically, in some people’s minds, part of the child hates the parent, and the other part wants to love and forgive them. This is why children will seek to have a relationship with a wayward parent years after the abuse has occurred. I have counseled children who have seen one parent doing wrong or mistreating the other parent, yet the child will make excuses or turn a blind eye. It is unconditional love, and children possess it for their parents.

So, for me wanting children was largely about having someone who would love me in spite of my shortcomings. It was about experiencing unconditional love.

Let me pause and confess that my desire for unconditional love was in the absence of knowing Christ and coming into the knowledge that only Christ can provide true unconditional love. This is called agape love, and only through Christ can one truly feel and express this unconditional love.

Romans 5:8 (English Standard Version)

But God shows his love for us in that while

we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

1 Corinthians 13:7 (ESV)

Love bears all things, believes all things,

hopes all things, endures all things.

The truth is most people, if they are honest, are looking for the same thing. Most people want to be loved and to be loved unconditionally. It is why many people want children. It is why many people want to get married. It is why many people go from person to person, bed to bed, and even church to church. They are empty. However, that emptiness can only be filled by a love that is unconditional. I get it. I was there too.

I thought children and their capacity to love unconditionally would fill my void. So, I wanted children. However, I did not want them so badly I was willing to have them too soon. Thankfully, I knew enough to know there were certain things I needed prior to having children. I knew I needed financial stability, a good helpmeet, and a loving household. Looking back, I now know what I needed as much as any of that was Christ and a godly woman in my life. Those two things would have put me over the top!

So, once I became financially stable, I began my search for the helpmeet that would help me create a loving household.

Eventually, I found the person with whom I would have children, and God blessed me with two beautiful children. As I detailed in my previous book, Divorced, But Still Dad, that marriage did not last; however, it did yield two of the most amazing and important people in my life. So began my life as a father…a dad.

As I hoped they would, my children loved me unconditionally. They loved me despite my ineffectiveness as a father. They loved me despite the mistress that consumed my life. This mistress removed me from my house five days every week and kept me out of the house the entire day and sometimes into the night. This mistress often consumed my time on the weekends. This mistress would demand I look at my phone, whether I was at football practices or cheerleading competitions or family dinners. This mistress was intoxicating, as she would take me on international trips where I was chauffeured in limousines and stayed in posh suites. This mistress was demanding and jealous. This mistress was addictive and unforgiving.

This mistress, that exposed my ineffectiveness as a dad, was my job.

It is the mistress many men share. The love of a father is often challenged by his commitment to this mistress. Rarely do the two coexist, and even more rare is their ability to share one life peacefully.

In my case, my mistress won over and over again, while I made excuses and justifications for courting her.

If it were not for my job, my children would not live in this big house. If it were not for my job, we could not afford the nice vacations or the Land Rover or the BMW. If it were not for her, we could not have built this house. The excuses were plentiful. All the while my children were suffering from my absence. One particular event really brought this screaming home to me.

I had just returned from a ten-day trip to Japan. On the evening I arrived home, I received a phone call that my top client was in jeopardy and I needed to go see them immediately. The next morning, I flew to Florida to see them. The meeting went well, and I saved the account. On my way back home, I stopped in Atlanta. Because I had a long layover, I decided to go to dinner with a longtime friend.

Over dinner my friend brought up my enviable life. She commented about how amazing my life must be. You travel the world riding in limos and staying in penthouse suites. You send your children emails from Malaysia and Germany. You bring them gifts and trinkets from all over the world. Wow! You travel every week and fly all over. Ken, that is great! But at what cost to your children?

⋘Sound of screeching brakes⋙

Wait, what?

She continued, You think it is cool to email your children from the Orient or send them pics with you riding the bullet train in Europe. But the bottom line is that you are basically an absentee father.

⋘Thwack⋙

Talk about getting hit in the head with a brick!

My friend and I had known each other for many, many years, so she had earned the right to speak truth without upsetting me. The truth is, I did get upset, though not at her.

I flew back home with our conversation consuming my thoughts.

I was an absentee father.

I was an absentee father.

I was an absentee father.

I was not modeling a father’s biblical love. My chest was puffed up because I was doing such a good job providing material possessions, but I was not providing love. I was not providing a father’s love.

I was a pseudo provider but was failing as a priest and even as a protector. I say a pseudo provider because many men, me included, have it twisted. When we are called upon to be a provider, there is more we are supposed to provide than financial stability. We are also supposed to provide psychological and mental stability!

The next day I sat down with both my children and talked to them. What I found out was painful. Both of them were walking around the house smiling. They would answer the phone when I called from the road and were smiling. They would send me smiling pictures. But neither of them were smiling on the inside. At school both were being bullied and mistreated. In both cases it was due to them being African American in predominantly White schools. My four-year-old daughter told me she had no friends at her preschool because the other children’s parents told them not to play with Black kids. My seven-year-old son was being beat up and called a nigger at school because he was one of a handful of African American kids in an all-White elementary school. I was floored!