A Tribute to My Dad

[NOTE: As many of you know, dad had surgery last Friday in Paducah. As of this writing, he is still in the hospital, but is slowly improving. My family cannot thank you enough for the (literally) countless acts of kindness that have been done over the past few days and weeks. Dad hasn’t felt like “dad” for some time, but we pray that this surgery is the first step on the road to recovery.

As we have struggled through the last few days, a lot of thinking has been done about dad. I wanted to take today’s post to offer him a tribute. This post is a little longer than usual, but dad’s worth it! If you have never given a tribute to your dad, why not take the time to do so?]

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Who would have ever thought that a government teacher would lead so many to Jesus Christ? My dad, Jim Faughn, taught school in Metropolis, Illinois, and thought he would do that for the rest of his life. Little did he know what God had in store for his life.

A little congregation in rural Illinois–Hillerman (I think it’s spelled)–asked him to preach for them sometimes, though he was a fairly new convert. Dad kept preaching. Soon, Vienna (and he would remind you that you don’t say it like the city in Austria) called, and my family moved to that small town in an adjacent county. No surprise, the congregation grew.

About 7 years later, a congregation in another state–all the way across the Mississippi River!–called, and we moved to Dexter, Missouri. Dad kept preaching. No surprise, the congregation grew.

After 11 years, dad decided not to preach full-time, but to work for Freed-Hardeman University. He still preached, but was filling in and trying to recruit students and raise money for the Bible department. No surprise, he was in high demand.

After a few years of that, the “itch” to preach was still there, and Central in Paducah became the congregation to be blessed by dad’s preaching. For over 10 years now, he has preached there. No surprise, the congregation has grown.

Dad never feels like he is well-known (nor does he want to be), and he can never understand why people ask him to speak on Gospel Meetings, lectureships, interviews, seminars, youth rallies, and other events. He is in constant demand, but can never figure out why. If you’ve heard him preach, you know why.

Dad is genuine. He practices what he preaches, but to me, he is more than just a preacher. Dad is a great man. He is, in every sense of the word, my hero. I’ve often said, “If I’m ever half the man dad is, then I’ll be okay.”

As a father now, I don’t understand how he did it all. How he prepared all those lessons, went to all those hospitals, wrote all those bulletin articles, prepared all those radio and TV programs, wrote all those cards….and was still there for mom and the kids. He never missed a ball game; in fact, he coached many of them. He was at every band concert and choir performance. He found time to play basketball on the front driveway, and whiffle ball in the backyard. I have no idea how he did it, but I’m thankful every day he did. As a dad, I just hope I can do it, too.

As a husband, he always treated mom like a queen. Her word was always backed up by dad (and, sometimes, his right hand had to remind me of that!). Even now, I’m amazed at how often they “run to the movies,” or go out to eat, or make quick get-aways to “the mountains” to be together. I sometimes wondered if dad’s last name wasn’t “And-Donna,” because “Jim and Donna” just go together!

If you are around dad for more than a minute, you can see that he cares deeply for the souls of people. He knows more people than any other human I can imagine. We still joke about not being able to go anywhere without dad running into someone he knows. If you don’t believe me, he has run in to folks he knew at the foot of the Sears Tower and on the field of Busch Stadium in St. Louis! And his memory of every one of those people is unmatched. He wants to know them, because he cares about them.

He preaches constantly about “relationships,” because that’s the essence of the Bible. He wants your relationship with God to be right, and he wants the Church to be built up through relationships with one another. He regularly notes how we must be a Christian family, and that must manifest itself through care and concern. He believes that a congregation that truly demonstrates love for each other will be one that grows and that remains strong for some time. So, it’s no wonder when he shows up for the birth of a baby, a surgery, for a funeral, or just to visit for a few minutes. He cares because you are part of his family!

He taught me how to select sometime to root for. As a boy, he pulled for Stan Musial, when most of the baseball world liked Mickey Mantle. When everyone was going crazy over John and Paul, dad thought George was the best Beetle. And, of course, Paul Revere and the Raiders were more fun than the Beetles! He taught us not to just pull for who the world said was the best, but to root for who we liked. If that meant having a son who liked the Yankees instead of the Cardinals, that was okay…pretty much! But in a far more important way, it means that someone doesn’t have to be a great speaker or fashionable dresser to be important. Everyone is important, and deserves our love and our help whenever we can give it.

My dad is my hero. He wasn’t, and isn’t, perfect, but he could have said as did Paul, “Imitate me, even as I also imitate Christ.” If you imitate Jim Faughn, you are going to be about as close to Jesus as is possible. Through the pulpit, the classroom, mission trips, Gospel meetings, articles, church camp, VBS, youth rallies, radio programs, TV programs, lectureships, seminars, summer series, personal Bible studies, blog posts, hand-written notes, emails, phone calls, Facebook messages, and personal visits, dad has impacted countless lives, and will continue to do so. Our Lord has far more rooms to prepare because my dad has helped so many be ready for Judgment.

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Dear Dad,

There is no way to properly tell you “thank you” for your gifts and influence. No person deserves the “head start” I got in life because you were my dad. While I’m thankful for you as a preacher, I’m far more grateful that you were “just dad” to us.

From the NCAA tournament (even though Duke lost a round too early) to yelling for “gloves!” I have memories that will be cherished as long as I live. Most of those memories will not be from pulpits or classrooms, but from our house and our time together. They’ll involve Christmas traditions and time spent planting about 6935 trees. They’ll involve vacations to “my rock” and waiting until “One Shining Moment” played to officially end the college basketball season. They’ll involve prayer, tears, laughter (lots of laughter), and–above all–an unwavering faith in God. My prayer is for more memories, because you live many, many more years.

Dad, you are my hero, and I love you more than I can express.

With love,

A Grateful Son