Lessons my Dad Taught Me (part 2)

CONFLICTING STANDARDS  Most of our learning about character, Bible, morality, music, and most other “essentials” of Christian living were taught at church and school and reinforced at home. Although my mom had her faults, like everyone, she modeled what she believed with upstanding Christian character and I thought my dad did also but when all the dust cleared, my dad was all facade and no substance. 

I started to notice this in high school. I’m sure there were other signs but as a kid I didn’t see things or realize what was going on. Plus, my dad was an excellent manipulator and I don’t think anyone knew the extent of what he was into and my mom was not one to question my dad, especially not in front of the kids or her friends, and I doubt she did it in private.

I remember the first time I realized the “disconnect” between what I was taught and what I observed. At the house we rented, I didn’t live in the main part of the house but in the storage/laundry room. I’d have to go out my door, on to the covered back patio, and through the sliding glass door to come inside the house to be with the rest of the family. At night, I’d come into the house to use the bathroom and my dad would quickly change the station. A few times I’d try to see through the curtain what he was watching and there was just enough of a hole to tell that it was not appropriate or at least not up to the standards that I was being taught. 

What occurred to me was, “You teach your kids the highest standard but when you get older, you get to choose where you set that standard.” I’m not sure I thought of it as hypocritical but an adult thing.

I grew up being told that country music was not good for various reasons. I asked my dad what he thought about country music and he said, “Well, a lot of their songs talk about God.” Basically, he was telling me that he didn’t have a problem with country music. Good to know.

HYPOCRISY  About a year after I came home from boot camp and MOS school and was now living on my own, I stopped by my parents’ house and my dad found something in my car that indicated that I was not doing the right thing. He made an off-hand remark but never confronted me or told me I was sinning.

A few years later, I accidentally found out my dad frequented seedy places. I finally understood that my dad couldn’t say anything about my sin because he was doing much, much worse and he’d just be condemning his own sin. Knowing a little about what he was doing did two things. It validated my own sin and I thought, “My dad’s not such a ‘stick in the mud’.” And not that I wanted one at the time, but I lost a spiritual authority figure, someone I could go to for spiritual advice when I became open to that again.