Wade Long, Fathered Man

YOUNG ME

Present god-child count: 7

This is a bit unbelievable, to be real about it. These beautiful people range in age from under 2 months to 19 years old. (I sigh, as I deal with that whole 'being old enough to have a 19 year old godchild' thing.)
The eldest is the daughter of a friend I lost touch with years ago. I pray - not often enough, I feel - about her well being, the choices she makes, about the people in her life, about being reunited with her one day.
The youngest is a boy I see almost always. I steal every chance I get to whisper scriptures into his little ears. Call me what you will but I TRULY they believe they get deep into the fibers of his spirit.

I have no natural children of my own - yet. I joke (only a little) from time to time about my backwards way of refusing to have no kids until I marry.

My relationship with my own father - if you want to call it that - was interesting to say the least. Whenever he was around for the first years of my life he was great! The problem being "whenever he was around" only occurred once to twice a year, at most!

Not before too long he informed our family he was ill and would be passing on soon. It was then that he remembered me and decided to communicate with me regularly.  He and my mother had been separated for years and at 12, my mom left the choice up to me whether or not to allow the relationship to happen or not. ( No pressure there :/)

Long story short, I decided to communicate with my father, and to be strong with and for him.

Then he died.

I'm in my 30s now and I still feel the affects that years of fatherlessness must have had on me.  There are questions every day that I feel I need him for, as I struggle with allowing God to father me, along with the wonderful surrogate  "Pop" I have now.

On the godfathering end, I truly have no idea why these wonderful people keep choosing me to be the man who influences these kids and those God-parts of them so desperately needed. It was suggested by my youngest godchild's mom just yesterday that perhaps this is God's choice.  I honestly still have no reason why.

I just pray that something I say or do influences these dear people to do something fruitful with their lives, and if God so graciously blesses me someday with my own that I will have the courage to be man who I should be to them, and the father my seed so truly deserves.

Wade Long, Traveling Man

When I left Cleveland for LA some near five years ago with $11 to my name and a can of change my mother gave me I was certain I'd be back within a few months to visit.  I had this elaborate plan I've mentioned before to take over the world as I knew it. I was going to fly my whole family out that next Christmas, rent out a floor at the Hilton, and have a time we'd never forget! So when I visited home for the very first time this past week, flying coach on my first ever plane ride it was a tad different than the reunion I'd once imagined.

There was the flight, that scared me to the point of a near panic attack. (I'm getting better at handling my time in the airways, by grace.)  An unexpected five hour layover in Dallas proved to be an angering ordeal in and of itself.

My entrance into my Mother's home at midnight was met with her tears, followed by her laughter, followed by what seemed to be her laughing at her own indecision, whether to cry or to laugh. It was a great moment; one which made the discomfort of the trip more than well worth it!

The next few days were filled with catching up with great family and friends, pouring as much as I could into their lives with the limited time that I had. After all, I had been gently warned a few times before leaving LA that this trip to Cleveland was a ministry visit.

Finally came the day I was most there for.

It was Mother's Day.  A day we would celebrate my mom for just being the wonderful her that she is,  along with observing her birthday which was the day after.

I looked at my mother.  Relaxed.  Serene.  My mission was accomplished. I could return to LA now with a clear conscience.

Two days later it was time to come home.  I had held myself completely together until then (on the outside, at least).  Then came the tears.  I cried as I shouted words of encouragement to my mother. Then she cried, and I held her for a moment.  Next, Mom told me to go on so that I didn't miss my flight.

I believe God showed up through the radio on the way to the airport, as every infamous "goodbye" song from every movie ever seemed to come on. Laughter once again caused tears to subside.  I then cried once more as I said my goodbyes to my brother who had dropped me off.

An hour later I boarded my plane, a different man. A changed man. Wade Long, a traveling man.

Wade Long, Flying Man

If I'm a fool its not because I am flying on my fourth airplane ride in the past week. It's because I didn't always trust the God who has promised me protection and victory through and by His Word.

[Picture my present scene as I write.]

I'm somewhere between 35 and 40 thousand feet in the air, experiencing what  feels to be a small amount of turbulence; yet turbulence nonetheless to this rookie flyer. There's a movie on, one which I may indulge in, in just a little bit. The nice flight attendant just offered me "something to drink".  I'm actually taking real sips this time instead of the throat wetters I had taken on the 3 earlier flights. (Im a little bit proud of myself. Not just because of the sips but because I'm actually focused enough to write this darn thing. I pray I stay in this state and that Jesus increases my ability to do so.)
Like it or not I must adjust to flying.  Seeing my family depends on me flying.  The career I've been working on so hard, too.  Ministry does also. 

[I stop for a moment to think of friends who do this flying thing, seemingly without consideration of possible dangers, and neither should I. I marvel at the girl sitting next to me. I don't think she's been awake since we hit the runway, & I'm a little bit envious. Just a little though]

The girl I like flies all the time. I don't want to be the guy who doesn't do a thing out of fear that is perfectly natural to do, and thusly miss out on some good opportunities.

My stomach is more settled than it has been. I charge that to grace/the anti nausea medicine my oldest brother Terry brought me on the trip to Cleveland which began my adventure in aviation (see future blog for details :) /getting used to it... In that order, although if you think of it those last 2 are bi-products of grace.

I have one of my favorite songs (I Will Exalt You by Hillsong) on repeat for like the 7th time now. (No, I'm not joking!) Call me silly but I'm choosing to exalt Jesus high above even 30 thousand some-odd feet!

God has stretched my faith in ways I wouldn't have thought prior. No longer will pitching that tv show idea to a network scare me as it would have before this past week.

In a couple hours I'll land. Happily so. And somewhat melancholy; About the end of this visit, and strange enough, in spite of all the discomfort that was, the place in faith that God has brought to me through flying.