Who can say why certain memories stand out from our early childhood? We store away particular moments for a variety of reasons, some obvious, some not so much. Yet for each memory there are also general rhythms that stick with us. These patterns are so worn into the fabric of our daily lives as children that we cannot help but recall them as we reflect upon our earliest years. They are part of the bedrock of daily living which leaves a lasting impression far beyond childhood. One of those rhythms for me was entering our family room in the early hours of the morning and finding my father sitting in his rustic, orange recliner. I would climb into his lap and peek at whatever my dad was reading. He always read the newspaper. In his case, his newspaper of choice was the Star-Ledger, the most widely circulated newspaper in New Jersey.

An Old Bible

But the newspaper was not the only thing my dad read in the morning. Alongside the newspaper, my dad would have his Bible. I admit, I do not remember if he read his Bible before or after he read the newspaper, but I do remember that he always read his Bible. And because he read a lot from his Bible, I remember a lot about his Bible.

My dad came to faith in the early 1970s, while attending Penn State University. I surmise he acquired this Bible shortly after his conversion. By the time I was old enough to cozy up with my dad in his recliner, the Bible was approximately twenty-five years old.

His Bible bore the evidence of its use. The cover was a less-than-flattering brown color that had begun to fade long before I came along. Every time my dad grabbed his Bible, he needed to ensure that the pages did not fall out. It seemed as if each page had a tear, a crease, or a fold, to indicate it had been read many times. I also remember the abundant markings permeating his Bible. Each page was covered in copious notes, underlines, and markups, indicating my dad had found something noteworthy. Day after day, he sat in his recliner, reading, studying, and making notes. And day after day, his little boy observed his commitment to absorbing the content of his old, brown Bible.

My dad is renowned for his sentimentality. To this day, my family pokes at him for how much STUFF he keeps. Perhaps his sentimentality played into the faded, well-worn condition of his Bible. when many other men would have replaced it with a new, sleek Bible decades earlier. But I suspect not many dads would have used their Bibles enough, even in twenty-five years, for it to have the appearance of my dad’s Bible. The notes and the wrinkles never appear in a Bible that stays on the shelf.

Conversion

Fast forward a decade or so—the Lord saved me when I was eighteen years old. Though I had paid lip service to Christianity for most of my childhood, my life was marked by sin and selfishness, and I thought nothing of the gospel. I didn’t see my need for a savior, and therefore I did not understand the cross. That all changed in a conversation with a close friend one evening during my freshman year of college. I laid down for the night feeling tremendous guilt. I knew this was different than anything I had experienced before. I fell asleep and arose for class a few hours later. To my surprise, I woke up with the same sense of dread I went to bed with the night before. The Lord impressed on my heart the dire state of my sinful life. I remember thinking, “you can either choose your sin and indulge in it, or you can follow Christ and believe what you have professed to believe all these years.” My choice was clear. When Charles Wesley penned the words, “My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed thee,” (Charles Wesley, “And Can It Be?”, 1738), it felt as if the legendary hymnwriter was writing about my experience that morning. I bounded off to class, born again a new man!

Parental Rhythms in My Spiritual Life

Over the next few years, I saw clearly the miraculous nature of my conversion by the working of the Spirit in my life. And so, for a long time, I did not connect my conversion to anything in my adolescence. I knew the Lord had done a mighty, supernatural work in me, and I charged ahead, discovering new vistas of understanding and appreciation for the Lord, his Word, and his church.

A few months after my conversion, I transferred to a Bible college to pursue vocational ministry. While there, I was taught the doctrines of grace, the sovereignty of God, and the absolute authority of Scripture. I was enthralled. After I graduated, I sojourned to Louisville, Kentucky, for seminary, intent on being a pastor. In many ways, I saw my spiritual formation as beginning when I was eighteen.

I have now been pastoring a small church in New York for two years. It is only during these two years that the Lord has begun to show me the connection between my adolescence and my conversion. I only had the categories to understand sin and my need for Christ because of the foundation laid in my childhood home. My friend did not necessarily preach the gospel to me the night of my conversion. He just helped me to see my sinfulness in a personal way. Rather, I had been taught the gospel countless times in the first eighteen years of my life. And that’s what came flooding back to me in that moment. Therein lies the connection.

Certainly, my spiritual life was impacted by the pastor’s wife leading children’s music every Sunday, a youth leader who later became a groomsman in my wedding, an older couple who invited high school students into their home for a Bible study in my early years, and many other people. But there was no bigger influence in my first eighteen years than my parents. My parents were always there, faithfully establishing rhythms in our lives. Every Sunday, we marched off to Sunday school and our church worship service. They brought us to Awana and youth group. My dad frequently led us in family devotions, either reading from his Bible (yep, that same brown Bible) or using a devotional book. He prayed with me many nights before bed, read through Psalm 119 with me, and would sheepishly lift his hands in praise during the worship songs at church. It wasn’t anything glamorous or groundbreaking, but it was consistent.

Encouragement in Rhythm

I am a father of four boys now, and I am acutely aware of how inadequate I feel teaching my kids about the hope of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Sometimes I pray with my kids, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I set a good example in the home, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I remember to do family worship, sometimes I don’t. I fret I am not doing enough to show my kids the beauty of Christ and their need for the gospel. I suspect my dad felt the same way many times when he was raising me and my two siblings.

Even in the daily grind of life with kids, Christian parents can take heart in the impact their faithfulness is having in the spiritual lives of their children. First, Christian parents can set an example in spiritual consistency. When I was in seminary, an elder who mentored me mentioned that each morning, after his devotions and before he left for work, he made sure to leave his open Bible on the kitchen table. When his kids came downstairs, it demonstrated to his kids that their father prioritized time in God’s Word. When our kids see their parents committed to regular spiritual disciples, it instills in them an understanding of the importance of our faith.

Second, Christian parents should engage the local church. While it is true that parents should be the primary disciple makers in their kids’ lives, the local church is vital to the Christian life. A Christian apart from the local church is like a fish out of water—the New Testament has no category for it. Engagement in the local church results in the parents increasing in spiritual maturity themselves, which will have a cascading effect on the life of the child. And it allows other godly influences to pour into the lives of your children.

Third, Christian parents should exhort their kids about the glory of the gospel. This sounds more intimidating than it is. Simply, our kids should hear from our lips both the beauty of the gospel and the need to believe the gospel. This might mean reading through the Bible together after dinner, utilizing a children’s catechism, or having a weekly, “family night,” where you discuss something of the gospel. Exhortation can take many different forms in Christian homes, but our kids should hear the gospel and their need to believe it from us.

Simple Rhythms

It is easy for us to underestimate the power of consistent rhythms of spiritual life in our homes because it can be difficult to see much evidence of the gospel penetrating the hearts and minds of our kids. Instead, we see our own shortcomings and wonder how anyone could see Christ in our feeble attempts to communicate the gospel. But these rhythms lay foundations which the Lord uses in the lives of many to call us to himself. I thank God for allowing me to be brought into a home with established patterns that pointed to Christ. I believe those patterns were integral in my spiritual life.

My dad’s worn-out Bible was finally swapped out for a newer, less-dilapidated model a few years ago. But the brown Bible with the failing cover will always remain in my mind as a picture of my dad’s faithfulness. Your kids will remember your faithfulness, too.