Sunday’s Blessing – 06/21/2026 – When Heroes Falter
It is in our human nature to want a hero. Look at the resurgence in the past several decades of the Marvel superheroes. We crave something or someone we can trust. With the advent of social media, it is so easy to invent heroic characters in “real life” who quickly gain a massive following. This occurs in every aspect of life: political, social, spiritual, emotional, physical, etc. We need a go-to in a pinch to ensure our success in whatever activity we find ourselves.
Children place parents in this role, or even an older sibling. Couples elevate their mate to a place of expecting them to always come through with the solution or aid needed in the moment. Citizens endear politicians who can make their life more tolerable. Employees will empower a corporate leader who has the loudest vision for how to make everyone wealthy. Parishioners will begin to revere a spiritual leader who seems to be closer to God than anyone else they know.
We need someone to follow. Even those at the front of the line are following the vision inspired by someone they respect or admire, using their strategies, methods, or passions to goad them on to greatness. None of this is inherently wrong until we begin to set our own will and aspirations aside in deference to the hero. After all, they know what is best for us.
The problem with placing our life into another human’s hands is that it will ultimately – always – fail. People change. People falter. People die. When this occurs, it will leave those with complete trust in them without wind in their sail, no rudder to guide them, no light on their pathway, no voice in their ears encouraging them with words of affirmation, no outstretched hand to grasp when we lose our footing, and no hope of a good outcome.
It happens every day. The patriarch or matriarch of the family passes after a long and fruitful life. These do not hurt quite as much because there is time to set expectations and formulate plans for the next phase. Founding CEOs pass the torch to their protégé with hopes they will continue the direction which has brought success. Seasoned ministers retire, leaving behind faithful leaders in place to carry on the work of the ministry. Those are less painful and more easily managed transitions which we know will come.
But when it is not expected, it can be like a nuclear bomb on our physical and emotional landscape. Everything we can see or feel simply fades to black, leaving us with no thought of what to do or say. The silence is deafening. The numbness only masks the sharp pains which will follow. This is not right! This is not fair! This was so unexpected! How could this happen to me?!?! It is in these moments that lives literally hang in the balance. The next move can greatly alter life’s trajectory, causing either continued growth and success or plummeting to loss and possible destruction.
My hero died when I was nine. My dad was bigger than life. I’ve written about this many times, but it bears repeating. Just about everything hanging in his closet was a uniform. He was a police officer, master sergeant in the Army Reserve, Cub Scout pack master, Boy Scout assistant scoutmaster, deacon at our church, husband to my mom, and father of five. In addition to all of this, he was the handyman to several widows that lived on our block, shade-tree mechanic converting a school bus into a camper, and heaven only knows what else he did in his spare time. In my eyes, dad could do it all … and he did. I never saw him respond in anger toward my mom or siblings. Everyone I’ve ever heard speak of him said he was one of the nicest people they knew.
When he died from a robber’s bullet which struck him just above his right eye, I could not really comprehend how my life was about to change. Standing wide-eyed at the largest funeral Elmwood Cemetery had ever held up to that point in time, to the massive outpouring of kindness shown to my mom and our family from people I didn’t even know, life, for the most part, settled into a new normal which didn’t seem all that different. Yes, dad never came home again, but he was gone most of the time anyway. That is not intended as criticism, just reality. A beat cop didn’t make a lot of money. Everything else he did, except for the Army Reserve, did not pay anything; and probably actually cost him money. He made up the deficit by working as an off-duty officer anywhere he could. One of those jobs cost him his life.
I only knew one of my grandfathers; my mom’s dad. He also died while I was nine, just six months before my dad. I’m sure that made it doubly hard for my mother. Now, without a father-figure in my life, the relationship with my older brothers sort of took that place. All my teachers at the time – fourth grade – were women. The only real male role models I had left were uncles, whom I rarely saw, and the pastor of the church we attended at the time. My Sunday school teacher stepped up a little after dad was gone. This relationship was short-lived because we changed churches soon after this.
It wasn’t until my third year of college that I met a man who would take an interest in me. Not like the church leaders, who mainly wanted me in “their” group, but one who spoke to me with clarity and hope; something I had felt very little of from a man. Tom Cheatham said these words which changed the direction of my life: “You have a real aptitude for this.” Seven words. I felt my sail catch the wind, which until this time had been limp while adrift in the doldrums. I finally found something which I was good at. I pursued it hard, and then found this career again after wasting over twenty years following a “calling” in the church. Sure, there were accolades in vocational ministry, but usually by those who wanted something from me. Since words of affirmation is my primary love language, I responded to those compliments and gave the congregation some of the best years of my life, only to find at the end an escort to the door, giving way to fresh young talent who were gone within a few years.
When heroes falter it becomes a line of demarcation. You cannot maintain the same lifestyle. The old patterns and habits based upon your hero being present will not last. There has to be tough choices made which will have direct consequences. That’s not necessarily a bad word – consequences. It simply means the things which follow: with sequences. Those consequences will either propel you forward into a positive trajectory, or it will cause you to slide back into old habits which may keep you from progressing. Since there is no “hero” store, you don’t just happen up on that special someone who will inspire you toward growth and development. It takes time to grow new relationships. In the meantime, what can you do?
I wrote a book several years ago called Wonder in the Wilderness. In it, I describe many characters from the Bible who found themselves in a lost or uncomfortable place. I call that place “wilderness”. What you decide to do in these moments determines how long you will stay there. What I found to be the tactic used by most in these vignettes included in the book is this: They chose to begin to “wonder” at the magnificence of God. He, of course is the greatest “Hero” you can ever have. The best thing about Him is He will never falter. He will never fail. He will never quit. He will never die. Plus, when you get the focus off of your shattered existence brought on by the stumbling of your hero, you tend to gain a better peace of mind, realizing there is still hope ahead. There is still life to live. There are still dreams to chase. And maybe, just maybe, you could become someone else’s hero.
