“THANKS FOR STOPPING BY”

Better a little with the fear of the LORD than great wealth with turmoil.

PROVERBS 15:16

FORMER PGA GOLF PROFESSIONAL BRANDEL CHAMBLEE FACED a crossroads shortly after his forty-first birthday. Like most golf professionals, he was on the road half of the year—literally.

His kids took the absence personally.

“Daddy, do you like golf?” his son, Brandel Jr. (they call him “Little B”), asked him one day.

“Sure, I love golf,” Brandel replied.

“Why?” Little B asked. “It takes you away from your kids.”^a

Little B didn’t realize that his father’s career earnings of over $4 million came with more than a few perks, including a playground the size of a Wal-Mart. “My pal, Andrew Magee, says there are only two man-made objects you can see from space—the Great Wall of China and my playground,” Brandel said.

But that playground, even with its motorized car track, tunnels, slides, pool, and putting green, can’t compete with Dad’s presence.

One day, Brandel helped Little B build a boat for Boy Scouts. Little B talked in excited tones about racing it the next day, when Brandel broke the bad news. “Sorry, B, I’m not going to be here tomorrow when you get home from school. I’ve got to go to a golf tournament.”

“Well,” Little B replied, “thanks for stopping by.”^b

I’ve talked with enough kids to know that when we neglect them to provide bigger houses or better vacations, when we put them in day care at an early age so that both of us can work, the kids never look at it as us sacrificing for them; they see themselves as sacrifices for us. That’s because nothing speaks so loudly to our kids as does our presence or our absence.

Brandel eventually opted to leave the PGA tour and pursue a career as a TV announcer, which keeps him away just sixty days a year instead of 180. At one time he tried to do both. Coming in from a round, a few guys asked Brandel how he had done.

“All right,” he said. “I shot a 72.”

Tiger Woods was sitting at a nearby table; he turned around and said, “Pretty good for a TV announcer.” Then he asked, “What are you, anyway—a golfer or a TV guy?”

Brandel wrote, “Well, it’s official now, Tiger. I’m a TV guy. I view it as only a part-time thing, though. My real job is to be a husband and father of three. Pardon me for smiling, but in my opinion I have the best . . . job in the world.”^c

Sounds like Brandel isn’t “just stopping by” anymore; he’s finally come home.

But I wonder—how about us? No, we may not travel 180 days a year, but are we checking out emotionally? Would our kids describe us as “just stopping by”? Would they ask us, “Do you like golf?” “Do you like watching The Bachelor?” “Do you like being so involved at church?” And then when we say yes, would they respond, “Why? It takes you away from your kids”?

This isn’t to say we can’t have outside interests and diversions when our children are young; you can even make the argument that an occasional break can help us be even more involved in our children’s lives.

But when it starts to feel to our kids like we're just stopping by, that's the time to make some major adjustments, rethink our schedules, and give ourselves with new vigor and intention to the sacred calling of being parents first, hobbyists (and perhaps even employees) second.

Heavenly Father, we know that parenting is a season that one day comes to an end. Help us to be faithful during this season and to make the necessary sacrifices to be there for our children as much as possible. In Jesus’ name, amen.