The other day, my wife asked me to read a moving article about a young man named Nathan Stiles, a Spring Hill football player who collapsed while walking off the field and later died as a result of previous head injuries.
It was an article from ESPN; its primary topic was not the injury and its circumstances, but rather the legacy of this 17-year-old young man and his family's experiences and the direction in which they are now moving after his death.
Nathan's parents started "Nathan Project" to spread the word of God. According to the ESPN article, his father, Ron Stiles, wears his son's size-12 Nike high-tops to every Nathan Project event. Ron has size 10 feet. He told the journalist writing the article, "I'm never going to fill those shoes, [...] But I'm going to do everything I can to walk in them."
I really don't know how I made it through that article without my eyes watering and releasing a torrent of tears. Maybe I was just too tired to experience a fully cathartic moment.
Almost immediately the article got me thinking about Brody. I don't know how I could ever cope with any tragedy happening to him, and I have so much admiration for Nathan's parents because of their extraordinary strength. Would I be able to muster the fortitude to stand so strong in such an incredibly difficult situation? Before I can come close to being able to imagine what I'd do, I have to consider who I am as a father right now.
Just a month ago, we dressed Brody in a wrestling singlet for his 18-month pictures. One shot had him standing in my wrestling shoes, the tops of them almost coming up to his knees. An adorable picture!
Ron Stiles had talked about trying to walk in his son's shoes. In a proud moment, I had just had my son try to walk in my shoes.
What will Brody end up doing in his life? Will he be a strong Christian? Will he be a wrestler or soccer player? A musician or scholar? A gentleman who'll champion the happiness of others by standing up for the little guy?
I wonder what kind of relationship I'll end up having with him. Some of my most personal conversations -- the ones where I'd revealed my deepest emotions -- have been with my own father. It took a while for me to open up to him, but it finally happened when I was in my early twenties.
I think my problem was that I never understood his life or what it had been like walking in his shoes. The only shoes I remember seeing him in are penny loafers, cowboy boots, or hiking boots. His feet have carried him so many places, both good and bad. He's been to places so dark that I hope I -- or Brody -- never have to follow. He's been to places so bright and magnificent that I hope I do get such a chance.
He's stumbled and fallen, he's splashed in life's puddles. He's followed the map, and sometimes he blazed his own trail.
I haven't always picked the best shoes myself, so there are definitely times I hope Brody doesn't try to walk in my shoes.
If he does, however, I hope he tries on the flip flops so that he can relax and enjoy life, the cowboy boots so that he can step lively and proud with each resounding step, the wrestling shoes so he can experience competition and success as a product of hard work, and the loafers so he can walk with an air of a professional.
And there will be times that I hope he goes barefoot so that he can feel the earth and grass on his toes as he makes his own path.
He'll buy new pairs of shoes he won't wear often, and some for special occasions only. Some he'll wear daily and get his money's worth right away. I hope he finds a comfortable pair or two without having to search too hard.
I can't always tell him which pair to go with, but I can be there to advise him. He may want to try a pair just like mine, and I may have to tell him early on that he has no choice in the matter and that he has to wear certain shoes.
For right now, he's switching off and on between a nice pair of Stride-Right shoes and his boots with the flashing lights on the side. I hope that he listens when I try to give advice and that he's able to imagine what it's like to walk in someone else's shoes without having to directly experience it for himself. I pray that God gives him the opportunity to enjoy every step in life, and I pray that God gives him the strength to endure when the path becomes rough. Most of all, I pray that, like the old "Footprints" poem says, Brody allows God to carry him through the dark times on his journey through life.
