On a hot August Saturday, the cool water of the Broad River was exactly where a group of fathers and sons from First Baptist wanted to be.
Shirts and shoes were left along the bank as boys and dads made their way into the river, climbing across rocks, swimming through the current and exploring out toward the middle. When they weren’t in the water, the boys disappeared into the surrounding woods, played Wiffle ball and spent the morning doing something increasingly difficult to find time for—simply being boys together.
For the fathers, that was part of the point
“You know, they just don’t get this opportunity in our normal life,” said Andrew Lucas, who brought his sons Reynolds, 13, and Emory, 9. “We’re all busy. We all live in different parts of town.”
Lucas said several of the dads found themselves reminiscing about their own childhoods—days spent outside with neighborhood kids, exploring and playing without much of an agenda. Their sons may not experience childhood in quite the same way, but for a few hours along the Broad River, they had a chance to do just that.
“They could go be boys for a little while,” Lucas said. “But also, as Pastor’s message was, we were able to take the time to point them to Christ at the same time.”
Saturday’s gathering was the second father-son river outing organized by First Baptist member Gerry Williams.
The first came in February, when fathers and sons gathered at the same river for a much different experience: a polar plunge into the frigid winter water. Despite the temperature, the event proved popular enough that before everyone left, fathers were already asking Williams when they could do it again.
“A lot of the fathers said, ‘Can we do it again in about six months?’” Williams recalled. “And so here we are.”
Six months later, the water was considerably more inviting.
Instead of jumping in and quickly retreating from the cold, fathers and sons spent much of Saturday morning in the river. Boys explored the rocks and currents while dads spread out nearby, keeping watch and enjoying the water themselves.
For Williams, however, bringing everyone back wasn’t really about swimming.
“It’s just a time for Christian fathers and their sons to get together,” he said, “and a good time for other Christian dads to fellowship with other Christian dads that they may not necessarily see during Sunday morning at church because of different age groups of boys.”
That different setting matters.
On Sundays, fathers may attend different Sunday School classes while their children head to their own groups. At the river, those normal divisions disappear. Fathers talk while their sons play together. Boys interact not only with their own dads, but with other Christian men they might otherwise know only from passing them in a hallway at church.
“One of the biggest things is these boys see other Christian dads that they don’t normally cross paths with at church,” Williams said. “They’ll see them at church and go, ‘That guy went to back-to-school plunge. I know him.’”
For a few hours, there were no complicated schedules to keep or games to coach. There was pizza, Wiffle ball, a river, and time together.
Phillip Cothran had experienced both versions of the river gathering. He brought his three sons to February’s polar plunge and returned with them Saturday.
“It was very, very cold in the water, so it truly was a polar plunge,” he joked about the first outing. “Today is much more relaxed.”
As he watched fathers spread out across the river Saturday, Cothran noticed something else happening.
With boys swimming and exploring in different directions, the fathers naturally positioned themselves throughout the water. Each dad was primarily there with his own sons, but everyone was also watching out for everyone else.
Cothran saw a picture of Christian community in it.
“If I was to get out there in the current by myself, that probably wouldn’t be too wise,” he said. “But having a lot of other Christian brothers out there to look out for hazards and things—that’s cool.”
It also allowed the boys to explore with the security of knowing their fathers—and plenty of other fathers—were close by.
“I have to remind myself, I would be doing the same thing,” Cothran said as he watched the boys push farther into the river. “If it was just me and you out here, we’d take it as far as we could.”
Those hours of swimming, exploring and playing created a relaxed environment for fathers and sons to connect with one another in ways that don’t always happen during a typical week.
But around midday, everyone came back together on the riverbank for a reminder of why that time together matters.
Before pizza was served, Children’s Minister Christopher Gooding gathered the fathers and sons for a devotion from Psalm 127:3-5:
“Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one’s youth.”
Gooding brought along a compound bow and arrow to give the boys a picture they wouldn’t soon forget.
An arrow, he explained, has to go through a process. It must be shaped. It must be aimed. And eventually, it must be released. The same is true of raising children.
“You boys are being shaped by your dads,” Gooding told them. “Your dad is shaping you to be released one day.”
Gooding reflected on the many ways his own father had shaped his life. His dad passed along a love of football, music, movies, education and even the practical knowledge to maintain a car. Those lessons became pieces of a father’s life passed down to his son.
But there was one direction that mattered more than all the others.
“The one thing my dad aimed me toward is Jesus,” Gooding said.
Fathers will teach their sons countless things. They may point them toward sports, education, hobbies, careers and skills that will remain with them for decades. But Christian fatherhood carries a greater responsibility: preparing sons for a day when they will step into the world on their own and pointing them toward the One who must remain at the center when they do.
“You are arrows in the hands of your fathers, and they are doing their best,” Gooding told the boys. “They are doing their best to aim you toward Jesus.”
Then the object lesson became personal.
Gooding asked each father to gather his sons close. He asked the boys to think about the ways their dads were shaping and guiding them and to thank God for their fathers. Then he asked the dads to pray over their sons—to tell them what a gift they were and share their hopes and dreams for the men they would someday become.
Cothran wasn’t expecting that part of the morning.
“I’m grateful that he did it because it was just a beautiful couple of minutes with our kids and a great challenge in the message,” he said afterward.
The image of the arrow stuck with him.
“Where we’re aiming our kids is important,” Cothran said. “Our priorities have a good chance to become theirs.”
For him, hearing his sons tell him the things they appreciated about their father was just as meaningful.
“That was really awesome,” he said. “That was a blessing.”
It was a simple moment tucked into a simple Saturday—one that otherwise looked like boys swimming in a river, eating pizza, exploring the woods and swinging Wiffle ball bats. But perhaps that simplicity is what made the day valuable.
There were no complicated schedules and few distractions. Fathers had time to be with their sons. Boys had room to explore. Christian men had opportunities to deepen friendships with one another, and sons got to see their fathers living out their faith alongside other men doing the same.
Lucas hopes there will be more days like it.
“I’d love to do it every weekend,” he said. “But again, we’re busy.”
That’s part of what makes these moments worth creating.
Someday these boys will be grown. The fathers standing watch from the rocks won’t always be able to remain beside them. As Gooding reminded them beside the Broad River, eventually every arrow has to be released.
Until then, there is time to shape them, time to aim them, and Saturdays like this one to keep pointing them toward Jesus.
