June 26, 2012

Dear Daniel,

A 10-year-old boy named James knew he was going to get a new bike for his 11th birthday. That was the tradition in the English town where he lived – when boys turned 11, their birthday present was a new bike.

James undoubtedly had spent many hours dreaming of what his new bike would be like. He thought about the fun he’d have racing his friends in the streets and the freedom he’d have to wander farther from home.

So on the morning of his birthday, he rushed downstairs with anticipation and excitement, just waiting to get a glimpse of his glorious present. Imagine his surprise when he bolted into the room where his gift would be, only to discover that a bicycle wasn’t there. Instead, his parents had given him a typewriter.

A few years earlier, James had been involved in an accident that severely injured his head. His parents knew that giving him a bicycle would be dangerous. Because of his earlier injury, if James fell off his bike or crashed into something, he could have been seriously hurt or killed. So they had to come up with another option.

Though he was surprised at the gift – and maybe a bit disappointed at first – James quickly grew to understand what a special gift this was. As Alister McGrath wrote in a biography of this boy, the typewriter may not have been what he asked for, but it proved to be what he needed: “Surprise gave way to delight, as he realized what he could do with this unexpected gift,” McGrath wrote. “It was not more than a minute before he had put paper into the machine, and started to type. It proved to be his best present and the most treasured possession of his boyhood.”

This boy named James grew to be a great theologian and author, the famed J.I. Packer. Packer has written dozens of books and articles, and millions of Christians have been blessed by his work. He has helped countless people know God more deeply and grow in their walk with Christ. Church historian Mark Noll has called Packer “one of the great blessings of the modern church.”

Who knows what might have happened had he gotten that bicycle for his birthday instead of a typewriter!

That story is a great reminder that God knows what we need better than we do. There will certainly be times when things do not go the way you want them to. Disappointment and letdowns are part of life for everyone. No matter how much you may plan and hope, very little will turn out the way you expect.

But take heart, my son. We serve a sovereign God who is not caught off guard by the shifts and unexpected turns our lives may take. In fact, he is the one who is orchestrating and guiding all of them! And even though something may initially disappoint you, the Lord may take that situation and turn it into one of the greatest blessings of your life, as he did with J.I. Packer’s typewriter.

So my prayer for you, as you celebrate your 9th birthday, is that you would grow into a man who rolls with the punches and who trusts God completely — even when things don’t go your way, and even when it may seem that your life is careening out of control. The Lord will still be sitting on heaven’s throne, and he will still hold your life in his hands. He will still be kind, loving and good, and will know your needs better than you do.

As Luke tells us in Scripture, “And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you. Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

Happy birthday, buddy. You are a tremendous blessing to your mother and me, and we are so proud of you.

Love always,

Dad

P.S. Enjoy your new bicycle!

Dear Noah,

As you grow older and learn about some of the heroes of the Christian faith, you’ll probably not find many people whose conversions were as dramatic as John Newton’s was. Newton was quite a scoundrel in his younger days, and an evil, godless man. He was profane and vulgar, mean and cruel.

He was even an active participant in the slave trade, a horrifying practice in which Africans were captured, taken away from their homes and families and sold to owners in Europe and America. Yes, John Newton was about as bad as they come.

But like so many others, Newton was not out of the reach of God’s grace. The Lord miraculously intervened in his life, saved him from his sins and set him on the path following Christ.

“I stood in need of an Almighty Savior; and such a one I found described in the New Testament,” Newton wrote. “Thus far the Lord had wrought a marvelous thing: I was no longer an infidel: I heartily renounced my former profaneness, and had taken up some right notions; was seriously disposed, and sincerely touched with a sense of the undeserved mercy I had received, in being brought safe through so many dangers.”

Some time after his conversion, Newton became a pastor in England, a role in which he labored faithfully for more than 40 years. He was beloved by his congregations and played a key role in encouraging William Wilberforce to fight boldly against the evils of the slave trade — a profession which Newton himself once readily endorsed. The Lord had indeed changed his life in radical ways.

While many people may not know a whole lot about Newton, they certainly recognize the fruit of his labors. Newton was an outstanding writer of hymns and is best known for “Amazing Grace,” the most popular hymn ever written in English. In it, Newton poetically testifies to the wondrous grace that God bestowed upon him:

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me …

I once was lost, but now am found,

Was blind, but now I see.

Over the past three years, you have been a tremendous blessing to me, your mom and our family. You’ve made us smile and laugh more times than we can count. We are certainly grateful to God for sending you into our home.

One of the things that your mom and I have enjoyed about you is your love for music. Your brother and sister have always liked music as well, but you’ve taken it to another level. We’ve watched you sit transfixed during concerts and other musical presentations as you listened intently to the beautiful sounds you were hearing. We’ve chuckled when you’ve jumped down from the couch to dance to the music you heard on TV, smiling the whole time.

I hope that your love for music will only increase as you get older. I have no musical skills whatsoever, other than my ability to enjoy it, so that’s one area where I hope you don’t take after me. Music is a tremendous blessing from God, and I hope your life will be filled with the happiness and joy that music can bring.

But my prayer for you, as you celebrate your third birthday, is that God would do more than cultivate your love for music. I pray that he would implant a song of grace in your soul, and that you would be able to echo these words of the great hymn “To Christ the Lord Let Every Tongue”:

A thousand men could not compose

A worthy song to bring

Yet your love is a melody

Our hearts can’t help but sing!

I pray that you would be as captivated by the mercy and grace of God as John Newton was. I pray that the Lord would save you while you are still a child and spare you from so much of the wickedness that characterized Newton’s early years. And I pray that the faith God imparts to you would grow over the years, so that the deepest burning of your heart would be the same thing that Newton wrote about so many years ago:

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,

The sun forbear to shine;

But God, who called me here below,

Will be forever mine.

Happy birthday, little buddy. I love you so much, and I’m so thankful for the music you’ve brought to our lives.

Dad

I think I’ll miss our morning conversations the most.

Every morning, I’d go outside to see my dogs. While they were both happy to see me, Gus expressed his joy in a much more vocal way. It was almost as if he were singing to me, with a “roo roo roo” type of sound that must have been an annoyance to the neighbors. Sometimes I had to go back in the house just to get him to stop.

He was always thrilled to see me at any time of the day, but only in the mornings was I greeted in such a raucous manner. I came to call it my morning conversation with Gus. It was like he had been waiting all night to see me, and he simply wanted to tell me how his night had been.

My mornings will be a lot quieter now. At 11 years of age, Gus had been dealing with arthritis in his legs for some time. His condition had steadily worsened over the past few days, despite an increase in the pain-killing medication he was taking. It got to where he could hardly walk.

So on Saturday, we had to say goodbye. I’ve known for weeks that the day was coming, and had tried to prepare myself as best as I could. But it still was terribly difficult. He was my good and faithful friend, and a kind and gentle soul to everyone in my family.

I got Gus when he was just a puppy, probably only about three weeks old. He and his mama, who was half golden retriever, were residents of the local dog pound when I came in looking for two new dogs to replace the two we had just lost. Gus was the only pup to survive from her litter of seven, and I took both him and his mom.

Gus (whom we named after the great Christian thinker Augustine) was a tiny little guy at first, fitting in the palm of my hand. He was entirely dependent upon his mama Suzy, and anytime she’d walk off and leave him behind, he’d sit down, throw his head back and let loose with this mournful cry. You’d think his world had come to an end because his mom was a few yards away. He eventually grew to be almost twice her size, but he never stopped being her pup.

We moved to the country a few days after getting Gus and Suzy, and they lived in a dog’s paradise. We went for daily walks along the gravel road, and that was the highlight of Gus’ day. His wiry coat typically collected all manner of burrs as he scouted the surrounding fields. When we’d return home, he’d sit down and patiently let Suzy pick all the burrs out of him and clean him up.

A few years ago I bought my first truck, and Gus loved riding in the back. He was especially popular among strangers. Suzy was this beautiful dog with golden brown fur who looked like a miniature golden retriever. Gus was white and shaggy with brown spots all over him. I considered Suzy to be a prettier dog than Gus, but he was always the one that people asked about when they saw him in my truck. He certainly had a unique look, and I think that’s what caught people’s attention.

Gus was deathly afraid of storms. For several years, I had to give him a tranquilizer when a storm was brewing, or he’d go bonkers. At one house, we had a vinyl picket fence in the back yard. If Gus hadn’t gotten a pill when it started storming, he’d break through the picket fence and hightail it out of our yard. Typically, I’d find him sitting on the neighbor’s front porch. I don’t know why that porch was a more desirable location than our garage, which provided Gus all the shelter from a storm he would need. But in Gus’ mind, it certainly was.

Suzy died suddenly almost two years ago, causing no small amount of grief in our family. I felt especially bad for Gus, who had never known life without his mama. I wasn’t sure how he’d respond. But he was a resilient thing, and he eventually became friends with our new dog Katie. He was always delighted when we went on our daily walks through the woods, though his walking got slower in recent months as the arthritis began taking its toll.

But through the pain he experienced late in life, Gus demonstrated to me what I grew to love about him the most. The older he got, and the more his legs hurt, the sweeter his disposition became. Nobody would have blamed him for being grumpy and sour, but that’s not how Gus reacted. He simply loved us more and was all the more cheerful about life. Maybe he knew his days were numbered, and he wanted to make those days count.

I don’t know if it’s possible for a dog to be godly and to grow in sanctification. I guess it probably isn’t. But all the same, Gus showed me what I hope and pray to be, by God’s grace, as I get older. Assuming that I live for at least a few more years, I’ll most likely have to deal with a variety of aches and pains down the road. Most people do. And a lot of them don’t adjust well. They become cranky and grouchy and seem to take no enjoyment in their daily living.

Gus wasn’t that way at all. Just the opposite, really. Even until the day of his death, he was a jolly, loving and sweet fellow, perhaps more so than he’d ever been. I hope the same will one day be said of me – that at the time I die, my life was more reflective of Christ than it had ever been.

My mornings may be quieter now without Gus, and I’ll certainly miss his daily greeting. But maybe the silence will give me the opportunity to ponder the lessons he taught me, to ask myself if I’m growing in grace and in love for the Lord and his people, and to pray that God would make it so.

Dear Emmalee,

Sometimes the smallest things in life can be the most special. That was certainly the case when Corrie discovered an ant living with her. Normally ants are a pain and we try to get rid of them, but for Corrie, this ant was something to be celebrated.

You see, Corrie was living in a prison cell, all by herself. She had nobody to talk to, she was given little to eat, and she had to sleep on a filthy, scratchy straw bed with no way to stay warm. Normally people go to prison for doing bad things, but that wasn’t why Corrie was there. Corrie was in prison for doing something good.

Her full name was Corrie ten Boom, and the year was 1944. Corrie lived in Holland during the World War II era, when a man named Adolf Hitler ruled Germany and had taken over much of Europe. As I’ve written before in a letter to your brother Daniel, Hitler was one of the meanest, most wicked men who has ever lived, and he killed more than 6 million Jews who had done nothing wrong, simply because he hated them.

Corrie and her family did what they could to help the Jews. They created a room in their home where they hid several Jewish people from Hitler’s men for many weeks. They knew they would get in a lot of trouble if they were caught, but still they pressed on, because they were doing what was right. As Corrie wrote in her book, “The Hiding Place,” she and her family “knew that in spite of daily mounting risks we had no choice but to move forward. This was evil’s hour: we could not run away from it. Perhaps only when human effort had done its best and failed, would God’s power alone be free to work.”

Sure enough, their efforts to save the Jews were eventually discovered, and Corrie was thrown into prison. She had suffered there for a few weeks when she discovered the ant living in the cell with her. Here’s what she wrote about it:

I had almost put my foot where he was one morning as I carried my bucket to the door when I realized the honor being done me. I crouched down and admired the marvelous design of legs and body. I apologized for my size and promised I would not so thoughtlessly stride about again.

After a while he disappeared through a crack in the floor. But when my evening piece of bread appeared on the door shelf, I scattered some crumbs and to my joy he popped out almost at once. He picked up a heroic piece, struggled down the hole with it and came back for more. It was the beginning of a relationship.

She looked forward to the visit from the ant each day. Eventually, a few other ants came as well. Can you imagine how lonely she must have felt, for a visit from an ant to be the highlight of her day? But that’s what life was like for Corrie during that time.

Still, even while she was suffering so, Corrie did not lose her faith in God. She read from the Bible in her cell, and eventually, after she was moved to another prison, she and her sister began leading a Bible study for other women who were with them.

One morning, while Corrie was still in the cell with her ant, she heard yelling from the guards, who told the prisoners to collect all their things and get ready to move to a new place. As she waited, she hoped for a final visit from her little ant friends, but they were nowhere to be found.

“Probably I had frightened them by my earlier dashing about,” Corrie wrote. “I reached into the pillowcase, took one of the crackers and crumbled it about the little crack. No ants. They were staying safely hidden.”

Then she was reminded of an important truth.

“I too had a hiding place when things were bad,” she wrote. “Jesus was this place, the Rock cleft for me.”

As you go through life, Emmalee, I want you to know that your dad will always fight for you. I promise that I will do all I can to protect you and keep you safe from anything or anyone that would try to harm you. We live in a world that isn’t fair and that isn’t always easy. But I will be your guardian. I will be strong for you when you need strength. I will be a listening ear when you need to talk to someone. And my shoulder will always be yours when you need to cry on it.

But I also know that despite my best efforts and intentions, there will be times when I will not protect you and care for you the way I should. I will do my best, but I will certainly fail.

And so, as you celebrate your 5^th birthday, my prayer for you is that you would come to know Jesus the way Corrie ten Boom did – because unlike me, he will never fail you. He will always be your rock, your fortress and your strength. He will be your hiding place when things are bad. I pray that you will learn to look to him to meet your every need, because he alone is the one in whom you can find perfect and complete love, care and salvation.

Corrie ten Boom believed wholeheartedly the words of Romans 8:38-39 – “For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” – and I pray with all my heart that you will come to believe them as well.

Happy birthday, Sweet Pea. You are truly one of God’s biggest blessings to me, and I love you so much.

Dad

Dear Daniel,

David Brainerd spent his 25^th birthday in a most unusual way. Instead of eating birthday cake or lunch at his favorite restaurant, instead of spending the day with his friends and family, the young man went into the woods to be alone with God for the entire day. Here’s what he said about it in his diary:

“Set apart for fasting and prayer, to bow my soul before God for the bestowment of divine grace; especially that all my spiritual afflictions and inward distresses might be sanctified to my soul. And endeavored also to remember the goodness of God to me the year past, this day being my birthday.”

That year was 1743, and Brainerd would live only another four years before leaving this world and entering eternity. In his 29 years, Brainerd certainly knew his share of hardship and suffering. His dad died when he was 9 years old. Five years later, his mom died as well. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for someone so young to lose both of his parents.

As a young man, Brainerd had sensed God’s calling to be a pastor, and he enrolled at Yale University to get the education necessary to pursue that calling. In his second year at Yale, he was sent home with a sickness so bad he was spitting blood. The culprit was tuberculosis, which would eventually claim his life.

He returned to Yale but then violated a university rule when he publicly questioned the salvation of the rector and one of his tutors. That indiscretion led to his expulsion from the university. Though he later apologized for his actions, Yale would not let him return. Since ministers in Connecticut had to graduate from Harvard, Yale or a European institution, his expulsion was a tremendous blow – because it meant he could never fulfill his dreams of a life as a minister.

There will undoubtedly be times in your life when you will face disappointments like Brainerd did. As he left Yale, Brainerd must have felt a deep sense of loss and wondered what the future held for him. He may have questioned God’s goodness in the face of shattered dreams. I must admit, I’ve been there myself many times, and I’m sure you will be as well. It would be wise, as you grow up, to prepare yourself for the inevitable disappointments that will come your way in life. Things will seldom turn out exactly the way you want them to, and you must learn to trust God’s hand even when you don’t understand where it is leading you. Heed the words of Proverbs 3:5-6: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.”

In Brainerd’s case, God certainly did have plans for him – plans that had eternal blessings for thousands of others. Brainerd ended up working among Indian tribes as a missionary in Massachusetts, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. The work was excruciatingly difficult at times. Brainerd suffered through loneliness, cold, hunger and multiple physical ailments. But he didn’t let such afflictions discourage him: “Such fatigues and hardship as these serve to wean me more from the earth; and, I trust, will make heaven the sweeter,” he wrote.

His ministry led to the conversion of several Indians to Christianity, so in a small sense he was able to see some of the fruits of his work. But the greatest impact Brainerd would have upon the kingdom of God came after he died. The great preacher Jonathan Edwards took Brainerd’s diary and published it in 1749 – and the book has never been out of print since. Brainerd’s accounts of his difficult ministry and the way he trusted God through all his trials served as fuel for the missionary zeal of countless others, including the likes of William Carey, David Livingston, John Wesley, Andrew Murray and Jim Elliott, just to name a few.

As John Piper has written, “ .. Brainerd’s life is a vivid, powerful testimony to the truth that God can and does use weak, sick, discouraged, beat-down, lonely, struggling saints who cry to him day and night to accomplish amazing things for his glory.”

So, Daniel, as you celebrate your 8^th birthday, my prayer is that you would be as faithful to the Lord as David Brainerd was – that no matter what difficulties and challenges you face in your life, you would put your hope solely and completely in our gracious and loving God. I pray that the Lord would draw you to faith in Christ while you are young and stir in your heart a desire to see the gospel spread among all the peoples of the earth. In short, my prayer for you echoes what Brainerd himself wrote so long ago on his 25^th birthday, that day he spent in the woods: “Oh, that God would enable me to live to His glory for the future!”

Happy birthday, buddy. You make me so happy, and I love you very, very much.

Dad

Dec. 30, 2010

Dear Noah,

One of the characters I enjoy most from C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia series is Reepicheep, the tiny mouse with an enormous heart.

He may be small in stature, but Reepicheep’s size is no indication of what lies beneath the surface. His valor and his skills as a swordsman were legendary in Narnia. Noble in heart and bold in spirit, Reepicheep had traversed far and wide, encountering many adventures and battles in his life. All along, he conducted himself with deep honor and dignity that earned him immense respect from his countrymen.

The driving force in Reepicheep’s life stemmed from a poem spoken to him by a Dryad when he was just a baby:

Where sky and water meet,

Where the waves grow sweet,

Doubt not, Reepicheep,

To find all you seek,

There is the utter East.

“I do not know what it means,” Reepicheep tells Edmund and Lucy in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. “But the spell of it has been on me all my life.”

That poetic prophecy was fulfilled at the end of the book, when Reepicheep and his comrades finally arrived at the end of the world, in Aslan’s country. Though everyone else was to return home, Reepicheep knew he had arrived at the destination for which he had been yearning. His friends bade him a tearful goodbye, knowing they wouldn’t see him again. And though Reepicheep tried to be sad for the sake of his friends, C.S. Lewis tells us he was quivering with excitement about the mysterious land that lay ahead of him.

For the last time, Reepicheep drew his sword – the sword that had been his constant companion – and tossed it aside. “I shall need it no more,” he said. And so he disappeared from sight, as a wave carried his tiny boat to his new home.

Over the last two years, you have taken your rightful place as a member of the Ellsworth household. You have brought great joy to me, to your mama, and to your brother and sister. You have made us smile and laugh, and we have taken much delight in watching you grow and learn. God has made you the youngest one in our family. And though you may not be the smallest one forever, that’s the role you have for now.

So my prayer for you, as you celebrate your second birthday, is that you would follow the example of Reepicheep – who, although small, was a giant in so many ways. As Reepicheep’s life was fueled by a pursuit of a poem, I pray that your life will be fueled by a pursuit of the living God. As the prophecy gave Reepicheep direction and meaning, I pray that you will find similar purpose in the prophecy of Isaiah: “Seek the Lord while he may be found; call upon him while he is near.”

I pray that God will implant in your heart a desire to seek after him all your days. I pray that you will attack life with courage and nobility – that you will fight valiantly for what’s right, defending the honor of your friends and family along the way. May your life be filled with adventures aplenty. And as you encounter challenges and difficulties, I pray that you will face them with a Reepicheepian boldness that flows from a strong faith in the Lord as your refuge and strength, a present help in trouble.

Then I pray and yearn for the day when your travails and battles in this life will end, and as you prepare to enter heaven’s gates, you can cast your sword aside, because you will need it no longer. How I long to be there waiting for you, to welcome a heroic warrior to his new home.

Happy birthday, my little Reepicheep. I love you with all that I am.

Dad

August 29, 2010

Dear Emmalee,

I can’t imagine how difficult the decision was for Ruth when she vowed to leave her home and everything she’d known to follow Naomi back to Bethlehem. Ruth’s life had already been hard enough, with the death of her husband at such a young age. Now she was facing another challenge and increasing uncertainty as her mother-in-law was preparing to depart from her.

Ruth could have stayed where she was comfortable. She could have done what her sister-in-law Orpah did – bid Naomi a tearful farewell and returned to the life to which she was accustomed. But leaving Moab meant more to Ruth than simply walking away from a familiar lifestyle. It also meant turning her back on the false gods the Moabites worshiped and embracing the one true God that Naomi worshiped. “Your people will be my people,” Ruth told Naomi, “and your God my God.” That was the main reason why Ruth chose to go with Naomi – because the Lord had done a work of grace in her life and had called her in such a way that she couldn’t refuse.

It was obvious that the Lord had important plans for Ruth when he asked her to leave her pagan world and follow him in faith. But Ruth had no idea what was in store for her during her early days in a foreign land, when she was dependent upon the kindness of strangers for her very survival. God took care of her, however, and provided her a godly husband in Boaz. She eventually became the great-grandmother of the great King David, and the ancestor of the even greater King Jesus.

For the past four years, you have been a bright beam of light in our lives. I’m thankful for your exuberance and the vitality that you exhibit daily. I can’t count how many times you’ve made your mom and me laugh hysterically. You’ve always been a child quick to flash your beautiful smile, quick to laugh and quick to love. The joy you’ve brought to our lives is immeasurable.

So, Emmalee Ruth Ellsworth, as you celebrate your fourth birthday, my prayer for you is that the Lord would call you to follow him in the same way he called Ruth so many years ago. I pray that while you are still young, you would embrace Jesus Christ and his gospel, that you would in essence say to me and your mom, “Your God will be my God.”

You will find that to be the most important decision you will ever make in your life. No matter what else God may have in store for you, none of it will amount to anything if you have gotten the most important question wrong. By the Lord’s grace, Ruth got it right. She was willing to risk everything in her pursuit of the living God, and I earnestly pray that you would follow her example. It may cost you friends, or prestige, or riches, or status in the eyes of those who love this world. It may even cost you your life. But those are small prices to pay in exchange for an eternal home in heaven, which the Lord Jesus has prepared for those who love him.

Happy birthday, Sweet Pea. I love you with all my heart.

Dad