Daddy’s Hands

Daddy’s Hands

Robert came to live with us in June. The year was 1988. Actually it all began with a very innocent phone call from the director of a church supported boys’ home in Hollis, OK. He casually told me that the house parents at the home were scheduled for a three and one half week vacation. All of of the children under the care of the home would be placed with individual families for a few weeks, while the employees received some much needed reprieve. How nice, I thought. He did manage to work in the phone conversation that one 11 year old boy had not been placed. Could we possibly take him for three and one half weeks? Well of course we can take that poor orphaned child in our home, I quickly told him. The only boy not placed? I just ignored caution light #1. Why would we not take him in our home? We were a young couple, at that time, with no children of our own. Perhaps that very fact was caution light #2, that I also duly ignored.

I hung up the phone and immediately got a sick feeling. I had not consulted with Jan regarding our introduction to parenting a pre-teen for a few weeks. She will be thrilled, I thought! I called home, and there was a deaf silence on the other end of the line. I want to think about this commitment before we agree to do it. This a big responsiblity, she stated somberly. Ok, I said. My palms became sweaty as I weighed the advantages between permission and forgiveness in my mind. And then she dropped the bomb… You already told the director that we would do it, didn’t you? My forehead was dripping with perspiration, and I so hoped that forgiveness was actually better than permission. My response: kind of, sort of, maybe…

Robert came to live with us one June evening after work. The look on his house parents’ faces marked caution light #3, which I did not ignore completely… I soon ascertained that he did not have sufficient clothing for the 25 day visit at our home. We stopped at Target to pick up a few necessities. I have not ever forgotten that experience. I suspect the employees at Target that evening are still traumatized. The company probably formed new corporate policies regarding adults who have no abilty to control children after our eventful visit. Need I share more?

I was of the mind that Robert just needed a lot of love and nurture. Jan lived in the real world. She knew that we were in for a very challenging three weeks. She of course was right…

I was feeling somewhat homicidal toward poor Robert by day 17 or 18. It was time to press the emergency button. I called two of my most dependable students involved in the university ministry that I led. Lee and Stephanie were not married at at the time. They are now. In fact, they are missionaries in Romania. I think the experience with Robert must have prompted them to leave the country for an unspecified amount of time. They took Robert to the park, while I recovered from 18 days of…well 18 days of you know what. After a few hours of reprieve, Stephanie called me from the emergency room. Lee got hurt at the park, but he is going to be ok, she told me. I intuively knew that Robert had done something to Lee. I fumed all the way to the emergency room. I vowed that Robert would not live to see his 12th birthday…I stormed in the waiting room, and there he sat, like a little angel. Lee’s injury was truly accidental.

Robert came to live with us in June. Every night he played one track on a Holly Dunn cassette we had in our home. The title of the track? “Daddy’s Hands.” It was a song that hit the country charts in the late ’80’s and contributed to Holly Dunn’s popularity as a contemporary Country singer. I find it difficult now to hear that now oldie song on the radio. It reminds me that Robert was suffering from what is known as “Father Hunger.” I did not know anything about “Father Hunger” in 1988. I was a well intentioned, but clueless young man. Robert was in a Boys’ home because there was no mother or father to take care of him. He was starving for the love and nurture that God designed fathers to provide sons. I did not know in 1988 that research has proven that “Father Hunger” will cause women to be promiscous and men to be out of control in other ways. I didn’t even learn much about my own “Father Hunger” until my children were well on their way to being grown.

Robert came to live with us in June. He came to live with us, in my heart, on this June day in 2009, because I think of him every year when summer rolls around. He is 32 years old now. I hope he has settled down. I hope he has a family. I hope he is doing well. Most of all, I hope that his “Father Hunger” has been fulfilled in a relationship with our Heavenly Father. After all of these years, I still favor forgiveness over permission. I still ignore caution lights. I am still somewhat impulsive, and I still yearn to touch my dad’s hand, Robert. Wherever you are, go with God…

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