Lisa Barry: On this program we refer to as "Gateway To Joy," the focus is usually on women, on mothers and the things that concern them. But for the next two weeks, Elisabeth Elliot is going to devote each day to the calling of fatherhood. It's always been an important topic in Elisabeth's thoughts, but not until now have dads gotten this kind of special attention. As we all know, one of life's most precious commodities is time. We rarely have enough. What little we do have is often wasted on trivial pursuits.

As we begin today's program, let's think about the important relationship that Dad has with the children. We mothers often think of ourselves as the parent that's needed the most, but as we'll find out today, theirs is a very special relationship that's unique and undeniable. I hope you can stay with us for today's edition of Gateway To Joy.

Elisabeth Elliot: "You are loved with an everlasting love." That's what the Bible says. "And underneath are the everlasting arms." This is your friend Elisabeth Elliot, talking today about fathers and mothers.

Shortly before I taped this program, my husband and I were privileged to meet in Texas an awesome family. Ken and Julie McKim are the parents of Melissa, Melody, Ken, Keith, Mindy, Molly, Kyle, Meg, Millie, Cade, Kirk, Case and Clate. Shall I run that by again? Well, I don't think I will.

It wasn't easy to pick out which was the mother when I saw this crowd of people. Thirteen children. The oldest girl, whom we didn't meet because she's married and was about to give birth, must be 27, I think, if I figured right. The youngest is Clate, who is three. Julie, the mother, could have been taken for one of the six daughters. She was beautiful, as they all are. Beautifully dressed, beautifully mannered, a testimony to the grace of God.

They have a family ministry. They do singing and testimonies and seminars on womanhood, time and home management, building character and maturity in children, healthy cooking, and other things. This crowd travels in a motor home, thirteen people. Two of them are married, so there are thirteen counting the parents. Thirteen of them, and they cook. Not only do they sleep in the motor home, they cook there.

Well, I couldn't believe it. I said, "I've got to see this motor home." I thought it must be tremendous. Well, it wasn't by any means the biggest motor home I've ever seen, but it was amazing to see them.

And of course the question that comes when you see a crowd that big, dressed so nicely and apparently very happy, well-adjusted people, the question is, "Are they wealthy?" The father, Ken, is a truck driver. They say God provides. It takes lots of hard work and lots of serious prayer.

They were not Christians when they married, but there is now visible affection between them and between the brothers and sisters. As we stood in the lobby of a hotel and talked, it was interesting to see the way a sister would go up and take her brother's arm or a brother would put his arm around his sister. It was really inspiring-a word I try to avoid, but I don't know what else to use-to see this family.

I want you to be encouraged, you fathers and mothers. You have the same Lord. His purpose for you will be different in detail, but the same ultimate objective: the glory of God in home life, His image formed in each member of the family. His all-sufficient grace operates for your good.

A woman named Anita Grace Carmen said in her recent letter, "So often on your radio program I hear you speak of the role of women and mothers. I wonder if you might consider sharing my story, which tells of an executive, who in spite of the pressures and demands on his time at work, makes the time to be the spiritual head of his family."

She writes this story: "It was late. I went in to check on my two boys, ages six and five. Both were sleeping soundly. As I turned to leave the room, my eyes caught the tail end of a sheet of paper my six-year-old was clasping in his hands. I looked closer and knew that it was the piece of paper on which he had written his dad's phone number.

'This is where I'll be, Robbie,' his dad assured him before leaving on a business trip. 'Call me if you need me.'

The next morning I went in to wake up the boys for school and noticed that Robbie still had that piece of paper in his hands. I didn't say anything, wanting to respect his privacy. Then on the way to school, I saw him fingering that paper nervously.

I finally said, 'Why are you holding that number, Robbie?' He said, 'It makes me feel better.' 'Why?' 'Because I know no matter what happens, if I can just get to my dad, things will be all right.'

His words brought a lump to my throat. His words echoed in my mind all day. 'If I can just get to my dad. If I can just get to my dad. If I can just get to my dad.' His dad, the head of the family, the umbrella of his protection, his refuge, his hiding place, the heart through which he will learn his identity, the heart through which he will find rock for his feet and a place to soar into the future.

How does a child develop that kind of confidence, that kind of safety, that kind of assurance? Then I knew. It came from only one thing. It came from a relationship. Robbie is my pensive child, my reflective child, my expressive child.

At the age of six, he wrote an essay on his dad that read, 'My dad is the best dad in the world. He buys me toys, though I don't usually deserve them. When I have a bad dream, he lets me sleep with him the rest of the night. He's a very kind and nice dad. On my holidays, he brings me wherever I want to go. He plays with me, even when he's very tired. He works very hard so I can do a lot of fun stuff. He goes to work even when he's sick. I feel very happy about my dad, and I love him a lot.'" That's the end of the little boy's essay.

"My other son, Thomas," says the mother, "is a man of few words. His Father's Day essay simply read, 'I love my dad because I just do.'

Today the boys are two years older. Robbie is eight and Thomas just turned seven. They've encountered change in their lives, like so many other children around them. They have moved, changed schools, lost friends, and made new ones. They have prayed for Grandpa in the hospital and trusted God for the money to fix unexpected problems in the house that we bought.

But through all the turns in the road, their world has remained solid because the leader in their home was solid. They always felt his umbrella of protection over their mother and over them. So much has changed, and yet for them, nothing has changed.

Just recently I walked into the kitchen, unannounced, and found Robbie quickly hanging up the telephone. He turned towards me, looking very frozen and guilty. 'Who were you calling?' I asked. He said quietly with downcast eyes, 'Daddy.' Without thinking, I went into a rampage and said, 'Daddy? Daddy's in Belgium. You can't call Belgium without asking me. Besides, they're six hours ahead of us. It's eight o'clock here. That means it's two in the morning where Daddy is. Daddy is sound asleep.'

Robbie spoke measuredly, fighting back the tears, 'I forgot about the time. The hotel said it was too late. They won't put the call through.' He took a deep breath and walked quietly to his room. I stood silently by the phone, thinking of what I should do. Then I thought about what his dad would want me to do. I picked up the phone and called Belgium.

'Bob? I'm sorry to wake you.' Immediately my husband said, 'Don't be sorry, honey. Is something wrong?' I told him about Robbie and he immediately asked to speak to his son.

As Robbie spoke to his dad, I saw a physical transformation in his countenance. The tension, the anxiety, the stress was replaced with perfect peace. When he got off the phone, I wanted to know what his dad had said to him.

Robbie replied, 'Daddy said I can call him anytime. He said not to worry about waking him. He said whenever I need him or miss him, I can just call him.'

Robbie walked away from the telephone with his shoulders held high. I knew that this was one of those moments in life that would be etched deeply in his heart. Once again, the message was clear. His feelings mattered. Above anything else, he was important to his dad.

I was reminded of Psalm 121:3, which reads: 'He will not let your foot slip. He who watches over you will not slumber.' I was grateful that God had given Robbie an earthly father through whom he would one day learn to trust his Heavenly Father."

A beautiful story by Anita Carmen. I'll read some more of it tomorrow, but I just want to say there isn't any calculating, you fathers, how important you are to your children. Did you merely sire them or do you father them? Are you there on weekends? Are you there for them whenever you can be, even if there's very little time that you can be with your children? Do you let them know how proud you are of them? Do you hug them?

I came from a family where we weren't huggers. We really weren't huggers at all. I surely can't remember very many hugs from my father. I think I probably had some when I was very small. But there was no question in mind that my father loved me and my brothers and sister.

My father was always there. He was there every evening, usually got home about five minutes to six, and every Saturday and Sunday. Daddy was home. He gave us his Saturday afternoons. Saturday mornings were usually given to work. We girls worked in the house with our mother. The boys worked with my father.

But Saturday afternoons, we could almost always look forward to some kind of a little outing. My father would take us on walks, most often. We couldn't do things that cost money. Once in a while we would go to a museum that might cost 20 cents in those days. But I thank God for a father who took seriously his responsibility to father his children, to raise them in the nurture and admonition in the Lord.

Lisa Barry: I was so touched by that family Elisabeth read about today. It makes me all the more certain of the important role fathers have with their kids. If you've been scratching your head, trying to think of what to get him this year for Father's Day, let me suggest a brand-new gift packet. I don't have time to go into great detail, but included is this tape series, also Henry Clay Trumbull's book, HINTS ON CHILD TRAINING, and much more.

The cost of the packet is $25.00. Just send that with your request to: Gateway To Joy, Box 82500, Lincoln, Nebraska, 68501. Or you can call us at 1-800-759-4JOY. That's 1-800-759-4569. Gateway To Joy has been a production of Back to the Bible.

We'll learn more about effective fathering the next time we meet for Gateway To Joy.