{"id":129,"date":"2010-06-17T01:27:18","date_gmt":"2010-06-17T05:27:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/example.org\/whose-your-daddy"},"modified":"2018-06-17T12:29:49","modified_gmt":"2018-06-17T16:29:49","slug":"whose-your-daddy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/2010\/06\/whose-your-daddy.html","title":{"rendered":"Who’s your daddy?"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>“You received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.'”<\/em> (Romans 8:15 NIV).<\/p>\n

“Which daddy are you calling?” My son, Jonathan asked, a quirky smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.<\/p>\n

Robin had just called me to the table for Sunday dinner, when Jonathan decided that for matters of clarity, she should specify to which “daddy” she referred. After all, there are now three daddys in the house\u00a0most Sundays, since my two sons have become fathers too.<\/p>\n

My sons\u00a0are shaping up to be very good fathers. They are tender and patient with their children. They change their diapers and feed them. They dress and bathe them.\u00a0They\u00a0rock and sing and play with them.<\/p>\n

My son Stephen plays the acoustic guitar and sings to baby Cadence. He often picks her up and holds her close to his face to say, “I love you!” over and over again. Having a daughter has really messed him up.<\/p>\n

Jonathan is appropriately more intense with Nathaniel. He shakes and bounces him from side to side while singing a rapper-like tune. He gets down on the floor and wrestles with him. But he is no less passionate when it comes to expressing his love. He tells Nate he loves him all the time.<\/p>\n

Sons need to know that their fathers love them just as much as daughters. I still kiss my sons on the face and tell them that I love them. Is this manly? I think it is. But to be sure, I usually\u00a0rub my beard against\u00a0their cheek a little too, so that they know it’s me. Nothing like a little sandpaper-love from the old man.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>I suppose I learned this from\u00a0my mother’s father. He would always tell me he loved me and kiss me goodbye when he was about to leave. I called him “Papaw.”<\/p>\n

“Gary, give your old Papaw some sugar.” He’d say, as he put on his hat and coat to leave. “I’ve got to go.”<\/p>\n

“You don’t have\u00a0any ‘backer in your mouth, do you Papaw?” I’d ask, because he was a tobacco farmer and he nearly\u00a0always kept a big chew in his jaw. I didn’t mind that he chewed, but I didn’t want any of that brown spittle on my face.<\/p>\n

“Oh no.” He’d respond, while shaking his head. He had the uncanny ability to hide the stuff while talking.<\/p>\n

“OK then.” I’d say, tentatively offering my cheek.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>He’d lean over and kiss me with a loud smaky sound.\u00a0He always smelled of\u00a0“Aqua Velva” and his beard was scratchy against my boyish face.\u00a0Then, he’d suddenly stand back up and poke his chew out of his mouth at me. He’d hidden it\u00a0in his mouth somehow.\u00a0He’d laugh and slap me on the back.<\/p>\n

“Yuck!” I’d exclaim with a quick wipe of my hand over my cheek. He’d never actually put any tobacco on me, but the possibility always existed.<\/p>\n

This became a game that my grandfather played with me until I was a grown man.<\/p>\n

My grandchildren haven’t started talking yet. Children’s first words are usually “Da-da” or “Ma-ma.” No matter the culture or language, the words for “Father” and “Mother” always have a simplified, more intimate\u00a0version for young children.<\/p>\n

The Aramaic word Abba<\/em> is like that. Like “Daddy” or “Papa,” the word Abba<\/em> has a short, simple sound that is easily mimicked.<\/p>\n

Jesus is the first in the Bible to use it in reference to God. He teaches us that through faith in Him that we can become God’s children and have the same intimate relationship that He enjoys. We can cry, “Abba, Father” when we talk to God in prayer. We can know the love of “Our Father” God that Jesus knows.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, I’m teaching my grandchildren to say, “Papaw” when they refer to me. I don’t chew tobacco, but I’m sure I’ll come up with something for them to remember me by.<\/p>\n

I guess Robin should\u00a0start calling me\u00a0Papaw\u00a0too, especially when\u00a0the whole family is around.\u00a0That way they’ll know whose daddy she’s talking about.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“You received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’” (Romans 8:15 NIV). “Which daddy are you calling?” My son, Jonathan asked, a quirky smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Robin had just called me to the table for Sunday dinner, when Jonathan decided that for matters of clarity, she<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":6992,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2061,2062],"tags":[2660,2662,2138,2139,2659,2661],"location":[],"class_list":["post-129","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-religion","category-weblogs","tag-daddy","tag-daughters","tag-fathers-day","tag-fathers","tag-grandfathers","tag-sons"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/garycombsorg.s3.amazonaws.com\/uploads\/2010\/06\/6a00d83524c19a69e20133f15c7515970b.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/129","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=129"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/129\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6993,"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/129\/revisions\/6993"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6992"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=129"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=129"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=129"},{"taxonomy":"location","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.garycombs.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/location?post=129"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}