The green and yellow (blecch) of the Packers mixed with the lime green and dark blue (blecch) of the Seahawks in a huge scrum in the corner of the end zone during the last football game the replacement refs handled.
For about 30 seconds that small piece of real estate was possibly the most violent place on the planet. The players wrestled, jostled, pulled and tugged at the precious oblongated spheroid.
The replacement referee, obviously on loan from a Kmart or McDonald’s somewhere, signaled touchdown. Meanwhile, another referee, who obviously was only a referee since he had the shirt from working at Foot Locker, signaled for an interception. In the end, a bad call was made, and the Packers lost the game.
Now, I am a Bears fan, so anytime the Packers lose it’s OK with me. But even I have to admit that the Packers got robbed. I don’t really mind, but they got robbed.
The replacement officials were a problem for the NFL this year. They took the place of the real referees who were locked out by the NFL. The two sides couldn’t agree on issues, so the refs got locked out. For the first three weeks of this year the real refs were replaced by good-meaning, but not as good, men who looked the part, but weren’t as good.
When I was eight my father left our house for good. He and my mom had issues, they couldn’t work it out, and he left. I’ve never really picked sides in their beef, I don’t know all of the things that went into it, and I don’t really care. I just know what happened to me. At 8 years old I became the man of the house. Just like the replacement refs, I didn’t make the situation, I just stepped into shoes that I couldn’t fill.
Over the years there were great men who stepped up and impacted my life. Floyd Bogart was an amazing man who stepped in when I needed a male influence. Jack Dunnam put me through the “washing machine” and taught me what being a man looked like. My uncle and grandfather, both named Bill Brewer, showed me love, compassion and shared their love of God and the ministry with me. I have tried to live my life and ministry in such a way that I honor all of these men, and I am sure I fall short every day. I can never repay their kindness, gruffness and encouragement.
As great as these men all were, they were not the same as having a father in my home to learn from. I grew up going to campouts and father-son banquets with other kids’ dads. I was there, but it was different, and I knew it.
There is a huge need for men to be men in our society. Men who will stick to their vows and not chase every skirt that looks appealing. Men who will be fathers to their children, impacting the lives of their kids and future generations. I was nowhere near as good a husband and father as I should have been because I missed the influence of seeing a good man in my home day after day.
Any male can make a baby. My Boston terrier Blitz made plenty of them.
It takes a man to be a father, a dad. Want to know how to be a dad? It’s written in 2 Thessalonians 2:11-12, “For you know that we dealt with each of you as a father deals with his own children, encouraging, comforting and urging you to live lives worthy of God, who calls you into his kingdom and glory.” Interestingly enough, there is nothing there about letting someone else do the job for you. Man up!
Thankful, but still missing something … Jerry
Jerry Godsey can be reached at jerry@jerrygodsey.com
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