Ever since he was knee-high to a Doberman, the boy was fearless. Take him to the ocean and he'd jump in looking for sharks. Take him to the mountains and he'd see how high he could climb. One day when he was five, I watched in horror as he jumped off a roof—a garbage-bag parachute duct-taped to his back. We couldn't be more opposite, my son and I. I believe God put us on dry land and said, “Lo, I am with you always.” Not Stephen. The higher he climbs, the more he believes God is with him.
In his first year of college he called one night to ask me for money. “I'm sorry,” I said. “You have reached this number in error. Please hang up and call your Uncle Dan.”
“I scaled a 300-foot cliff today,” he said, undaunted. “You'd have loved it.”
Right. His father who contracts vertigo standing on an ottoman.
For years, I've wondered what God would make of our son. Would he call him to be a helicopter test pilot? A professional bungee-jumper? A clown? Or would he fulfill every North American parent's dream by settling down in an enormous house with a nice wife and provide us with half a dozen grandchildren to spoil?
The unexpected answer arrived in the mail one day.
Dear Dad and Mom,
I just want you to know about recent plans and developments in my life. I met a couple of nice Mormon girls and we're planning on being married. Not really. But I did meet Lucy. You'll like her a lot. It's surprising how quickly you can find a justice of the peace down here. Lucy owns a tattoo parlor, but seldom works. Her father won some money in a lottery, so she's set for life. I won't need to work anymore either. I've bought a Mercedes convertible and you'll be happy to know I put a chrome fish on the bumper. Lucy owns a house, a summer home, and we're praying about buying a yacht.
If you haven't fainted yet, you may want to read the truth now. It may be more shocking. In the country of Uganda, the Lord's Resistance Army is committing atrocities against children that are too awful for me to put in this letter. Over the years they've abducted 50,000 kids and turned the ones they haven't murdered into soldiers. I want to go to work with street children in Kampala. I'll be living with local missionaries. It will mean lots of needles and I'll need to raise a little money too. I once heard Dad say that Jesus came to comfort us, not to make us comfortable. I guess I've been comforted enough; it's time to offer some to others.
Your son,Steve
“Where do you think we went wrong?” I asked his mother. “Couldn't he just have a beach ministry in Hawaii?” She grinned, despite the fact she'd stuck herself with a sewing needle while I read the letter. “Maybe we blew it taking him to other countries and showing him what the real world looks like,” I suggested.
“It's what we've prayed for all these years,” she said. “That he would live life on purpose.”
And so a few weeks ago we hugged our firstborn son until his ribs squeaked there in the airport, as he embarked on a grand adventure half a world away. It's funny the questions people ask when they hear he's going to Uganda. “Aren't you worried about his safety?” they say. And I'd be a fool not to admit that I have my moments. Check a list of the most dangerous spots on earth and Uganda nears the top. But is safety what we're here for? Isn't the most dangerous place on earth the place of complacency? Isn't Suburbia sucking the life out of more of our teenagers than any foreign country ever could?
I must be honest. There are times I'd rather Steve were staying home, making good money, putting it away for my nursing home bills. Yet I cannot hope for more than this: that my children will hear God's voice amid a noisy culture and that they will obey.
Just before he left I asked my son what he'd miss most about home. “The dog,” he said, smiling. Then why is it that I saw him studying family photos and lounging on the sofa watching an old Disney movie with his brother and sister? Was he killing time? Or saying goodbye to the remnants of childhood?
I've shed a few tears, but mostly I've been giving thanks. For a son who's an updated and improved version of his father. For e-mail and cheap overseas phone rates. And I'm thankful there are no sharks in Uganda.
