Dawson
Many, many years ago, when I was just a boy, my family took a vacation to California.
One night while there, we were eating at a restaurant when we looked across the room and spotted — you won’t believe this — Muhammed Ali!
The three-time heavyweight champion was eating a quiet dinner with his own family, tucked away in a corner table.
Realizing the magnitude of this moment, my friend and I sheepishly made our way across the room to shake Ali’s gigantic hand. He was gracious to the two little fellas who interrupted his meal and even signed some autographs without acting outwardly annoyed.
Through the years, I have often reflected on that day, reminiscing about the privilege of being in the same room with The Greatest of All Time.
Which is a reference to … my dad, Mike Dawson. In my eyes, you see, my dad is the real undisputed world champion.
As a preacher. As a father. As a husband. As a grandad. As a role model. As, well, pretty much anything a man can be.
Tennessee pastor Mike Dawson.
He may not float like a butterfly or sting like a bee, but he wakes up every morning with a laser-focused determination to be more like Jesus than he was the day before. And he has modeled that behavior for me every day of my life.
He taught me that integrity was more important than money, and that honesty is not only the best policy, it’s the only policy.
One of my earliest lessons in that department came one afternoon when my dad took me to the barber shop. Following my haircut, I told the barber that I had three sisters (I actually only have two) so that I could take home an extra lollipop for myself. Clever plan, right?
On the drive home, I told my dad what I had done. As soon as the words left my mouth, my dad made a U-turn, and we headed back to the barber shop. I returned the ill-gotten lollipop and explained to the barber — apologetically — what I had done.
Some of you might think that story sounds like an episode of Leave it to Beaver. Some of you might even think that my dad overreacted. Well, I’m here to tell you: He didn’t. He taught me an important life lesson that I’ve never forgotten.
My dad also taught me the importance of showing up. Because that’s exactly what he did. At my ballgames. At school in the pick-up line. At home when I was downhearted or scared or simply wanted to talk. My dad showed up, even when it wasn’t convenient for him.
My dad is also the one who took me to my first-ever Vanderbilt game when I was six years old, which was the official start of my life-long love of the Commodores. I have never forgiven my dad for this. (Just kidding about that last part.)
In later years, my dad continued to model Christ-like love for me by demonstrating remarkable kindness and patience with a teenage son who thought he knew everything about everything when he actually didn’t know anything about anything. Prayerfully and patiently, my dad stuck with me through the teenage trauma and drama.
But all of that was long ago. Over the past three decades, my dad and I have never had a cross word. Not one! He’s been my closest friend. My prayer partner. My counselor. My biggest encourager and proudest supporter. And yes, he’s still my role model.
I’m grown now with two boys of my own, but I still look to my dad for advice and wisdom.
Whenever something big happens in my life — whether it’s a promotion at work, the purchase of a new lawn mower or a big victory for Vanderbilt (yes, that does happen occasionally) — I can’t wait to call my dad to chat about it.
As for my dad’s legacy of loving the Lord, it continues to be an inspiration for me in my own walk with the Lord, and it has also been passed along to his grandsons, both of whom my dad baptized.
Sometimes I honestly can’t believe how privileged and blessed I am to be his son. And, today, I just wanted to say, Happy Father’s Day to the world champ! B&R