The Importance of Developing the Individual

There is so much to say that I have had a very difficult time compartmentalizing the topics into brief blogs. Where do you begin when your life has been so fully shaped being raised by 2 wonderful parents? All of their teachings are so interwoven into my very existence. So, I guess I will start with some of their foundational beliefs about being a parent.

Mom and Dad were always keenly aware of the stress of being a “Preacher’s Kid.” One of my Dad’s biggest priorities in raising Chris and me was to guard us from pressures associated with him being pastor at one of the largest churches in Clinton. He was well aware that we all lived in a glass bubble. He could have easily spent his time preaching to us at home as he did in the pulpit. After all, if Chris and I made mistakes, many would see. He could have guarded us from certain experiences, protected us from certain individuals, and mandated that we make certain choices so we would stay on the right path. But he chose not to do so. Sam Dean is a firm believer in individuality and free choice, and that carried into his parenting. I don’t recall Dad trying to be the “fix it” Dad on too many occasions. He let us make many of our own choices, even those times that I know he knew we were making the wrong one. But when we flubbed up, he didn't always run to our rescue. While he firmly wanted us to develop as individuals, he also wanted us to clearly see that there were consequences, both good and bad, for every action we took. He was very willing to coach us through tough times, but he did not let us sit back idle while he cleaned up our messes. He had no problem with tough love.

It has always been important to Dad that Chris and I learn to think for ourselves. He knew that we could not develop as strong individuals if we did not develop our own philosophies. In an effort to expand our thinking, Dad often encouraged us to take opposing viewpoints to issues. I can clearly remember being assigned a debate on a controversial subject in high school.  Much to my surprise, Dad encouraged me to take the more liberal side and defend it! Not that he believed in the material that I presented, but he strongly felt that it was important to be educated on both sides of controversial issues so I could more firmly develop my own views as an individual. His intent was never for Chris and me to always believe exactly the way he believes. He encouraged the educational system to challenge our beliefs. He never felt insecure about what that would do to us as individuals. He knew that he had provided a solid foundation in our household, and he trusted that God would shape both of us into the person He wanted us to become. Dad never tried to play God himself with us. He left that work up to the Heavenly Father.

Some of my most memorable conversations with Dad is when I have approached him with an issue in which I was grappling. Rarely, do I remember him giving me a straight answer. Most of the time, he will present both sides to the story and leave me asking more questions! But as a result, I have been allowed to develop my own personality, thoughts, ideas, goals, and questions.

Thankfully, I can say I have not led a sheltered life. Dad taught us at an early age that life is hard. He knew that he had to develop us into emotionally and academically strong individuals in order for us to be self-sustaining and successful. Sam and Marie Dean trusted God and allowed us to experience things that most preacher’s kids were never afforded. I can only imagine that, at times, it was extremely hard for them to sit back and let “free will” unfold. But in the end, I am my own individual who strives each day to put God in the center of my life. I am a firm believer in Jesus Christ and that He died for our sins. Dad allowing me to experience life has not shaken those beliefs; it has only solidified them. In the end, Dad and my thoughts and philosophies are eerily similar!  Sam and Marie Dean played an important role in the person that I am today. Not because they dictated my life as parents, but because they were facilitators in the will of God. They trusted that He could do a better job than them.

An Introduction

As usual, my mind is wandering in one hundred different directions as I stare at the  dark walls for the 5^th  night in a row continuing to fight off the famous “Christmas Crud” that has graced the house of so many in our area. Like my Dad, I often lay awake at night solving world problems; many that seem so monumental during the night, but are often tedious by sunrise. Those who know my parents well are aware of the health issues that have plagued them over the past several years. Processing their current health concerns night after night has resulted in much reflection upon my life with them. These moments of reflection have led me to begin this blog.

I am one of the lucky ones. Not many people can say that they were awarded the type of childhood I was graciously given. Two loving parents; one a preacher, one a teacher. They actually stayed together. Not that it was always easy, as you will see throughout my reflections. However, they stuck it out as they vowed to do in front of God almost 50 years ago. Being a Baptist preacher’s kid, I found myself in the walls of First Baptist Church in Clinton, TN more than I was in my own home: Sunday School, Sunday morning church, youth choir, Sunday night church, hand-bells, Wednesday night supper, Wednesday night church, “Girls in Action” (yes, I can still sing the song), choir tours, youth beach trips, etc. I loved being there. In fact, I still found myself hanging out for lunch in Dad’s office with Donna Cloyd up until the day I got married. Living with my Dad, listening to him preach at least 3 times a week, and watching his actions definitely have shaped the person I am today. To say the very least, I am the Webster’s Dictionary of a Daddy’s Girl. I can be honest in saying as you read this collection of reflections, you will become acutely aware that he has touched the lives of many around him. You may already be one of them.

Before we begin, I must step into the confession booth on two items. First, my Dad is not a real Rabbi. Of course, he is not! He is a Baptist minister!!! Over the years, this term has become, I guess what you would call, a pet name for him. His real name is Samuel Dean, and I am fortunate enough to call him my own. Before moving to Clinton, Dad was minister at First Baptist Church in Jonesboro, TN. His secretary there was named Becky Good. My Dad says to this day, she is still one of the dearest souls that has ever walked Earth. Her husband’s name is Jim. Jim has always been true to himself, never feeling the need to be different around my Dad simply because he was a minister. Over the years, Jim came to call my Dad “The Rabbi.” Please know, that this term is not meant in any way to belittle the system of organization for another denomination. It is not meant to be blasphemous in any way. Those of you who know Dad well also know that he would never stand for such. He is true to his faith and to his love of the Lord. I think Jim created this term because he knew Dad was different than any other Baptist minister. He has never fit the typical mold of what you envision a Baptist preacher to be. He is one of a kind. And for those of you who were ever able to be a part of his congregation, you need no further explanation. You know exactly what I mean. So over the past few years, well into his retirement, the term “Rabbi Sam” became the term we jokingly use around the house when he is reflecting or teaching us a life lesson.

Second confession: I am not a great writer, nor will I ever claim to be. My Dad is one of the most eloquent speakers and writers I have ever encountered. His vocabulary is light years ahead of mine. His writing and speaking ability put me to shame. He is beginning to work with my daughter, Mallory, to create his own book of reflections and life experiences. His will be much more interesting, intriguing, and stimulating than this blog. I can only predict that I will have to get out my dictionary on several occasions to dissect an intelligent word he has used that I am too ashamed to admit I don’t know! My intentions for this blog are to share with you in simple thoughts and stories what I have learned from being fortunate enough to grow up with Sam and Marie Dean. Some will surprise you, coming from a Baptist minister! However, I guarantee that they will make you ponder.

My prayer is that through one of the following weekly reflections, Dad will continue to touch people’s lives. Several years ago, Dad was diagnosed with a horrible case of the shingles, which has left permanent nerve damage. He also has been diagnosed with Parkinson’s. While neither have affected his brilliant mind, he doesn't do public speaking anymore. However, there is so much to share about the “Baptist Rabbi” who overcame poverty, set out on a seven year plan to graduate with a college degree and Masters in Divinity, and touched individual’s lives over the course of 50 years of ministry. God continues to work through Sam Dean, and I look forward to sharing some of the wonderful things he has taught me over the past 43 years. I often joke and say, “When I grow up, I want to be just like my Daddy.” Now I know that is simply impossible. There will only be one Sam Dean. But there is certainly a great deal to be learned from his knowledge, his spirituality, his outlook on life, his beliefs, and his actions.

I look forward to sharing these thoughts with you. I am honored for each of you who have taken the time to read. Have a very Merry Christmas!