Out of the Shadows

By John Collins, Administrative Pastor, Harvest Christian Fellowship

It's not easy being a preacher's kid, or PK, as they're known in our business. Living in the shadow of a dad who's the "go-to" guy for all things spiritual and biblical creates some uncomfortable dynamics. Not only are preachers supposed to be perfect, their kids are too. And when the preacher has a national and international platform for crusades, radio, and TV, well, let's just say those shadows get pretty thick.

For 33 years, those were the shadows Christopher Laurie lived in.

It's a funny thing about shadows, though. They stretch out a long way in the morning, but come noontime, they shrink down to almost nothing. Objects that once were shrouded are then exposed to the sun and viewed just for what they are.

So it was with Chris, or "Topher," as he was called.

He first stole our hearts as a toddler. On occasion at Wednesday evening Bible study, Pastor Greg would put little "Topher" on his Hot Wheels tricycle and let him ride out onto the platform. Greg would say to him, "Where's Jesus?" And he'd say, "In my heart," and then head back offstage. We all loved it.

His bushy blonde hair and beaming face were irrepressible. It was innocent fun and what else would you expect from a congregation of reforming hippies that sang cute little Jesus songs like "Deep and Wide" and "Spring Up, O Well."

As we got a little older, Topher's toys got a little more sophisticated. I remember a Saturday morning at the church when Greg and Topher were in the office. They were playing with a remote control car outside the office on the sidewalk. They were having fun together.

I'll never forget Greg asking me a curious question about my sons. He said, "Do you like your boys?"

I was somewhat taken aback. "Of course, I said, I love them."

"But do you like them?" he said.

That made me think. My boys all got remote control cars that Christmas and I stepped up my efforts to make sure they knew they were "liked."

That's the way it was with Topher and his dad. They liked each other. The love stuff came naturally; the "like" stuff required time and attention.

Maybe that's why Chris ended up being such a likable person. He not only had fun with his dad, he loved to have fun with everyone. He developed a reputation as a prankster with an impish grin who people loved to be around.

While those qualities were endearing to his friends, they didn't always suit themselves to spiritual growth. Some no doubt thought him a rebel, but the truth is that he was never a committed rebel. He knew God was watching.

The thought of bringing dishonor to his dad and mom always pained him. He respected them always. He was just fixed on enjoying life, and when you're running around in the shadows, sometimes you stub your toe because you can't see the cracks in the sidewalk.

That's where he was in 2000 when he made the trip with his father and me to the Billy Graham conference on evangelism in Amsterdam. He was fully grown by then, but still searching for the man we all knew was inside. The shadows were beginning to fade and the sunlight was producing little shoots of maturity and understanding.

We rode bicycles through the streets of Amsterdam and stopped at museums. He was studying art and graphic design, and Amsterdam was the city of Van Gogh, Rembrandt and Renoir and a litany of other famous painters whose works lined the halls in museum after museum.

Chris soaked it all in, his own sketch tablet never far away. The maturing man was trying to find the craftsman within and the works of the Masters were awakening him. It's harder to sleep the higher the sun is in the sky. So the shadows abated a little more.

When he got back, Chris continued to work on his craft, eventually going to work for one of Orange County's top design firms. He began to learn and realize that art and inspiration have to work hand in hand with discipline and perspiration. Neither manhood nor good art simply falls from the tree; they need to be pursued with diligence. So he did.

Before long, the shadows had mostly receded and standing in the light was a full-fledged man. It wasn't enough that he had found a real talent as a designer, but he was also a very good surfer, skateboarder, and wake-boarder. It seemed he could ride anything. He could stand on top of a bowling ball on a ship in the middle of a storm. No problem. On top of all that, and this really takes the cake, he was also handsome.

I wasn't the only one to notice! A young woman named Brittany saw it and, before long, a relationship was formed. The search for a man was complete as Chris found in Brittany the missing piece of the puzzle, and in God, the One who could hold it all together.

The two were married .Not long after, they turned "dad the pastor" into a lump of pudding called "Papa." Little granddaughters can do that. It's hard to cast much of a shadow when you're sitting on the floor, having a tea party with your granddaughter.

So there he was, in the end, standing alone in the sunshine. He was his own man. He still smiled all the time. He still loved to pull pranks and laugh.

I used to love to go into his office because I knew I could get him to laugh! And when your joke arsenal is as thin as mine, you're always looking for gracious laughers.

The best part of the story is that Chris was not just loved, but "liked" too! The design staff he coordinated not only respected his talent, but embraced him as their director and friend. And he and his dad continued to "like" each other, only now they did it as preacher and artist, colleagues in ministry, serving God with style and substance.

There is a picture of Chris I'll never forget. We took it of him when he was about ten years old. We needed a photograph for the Harvest magazine for an article called "From the Outside Looking In." The photo called for a young boy to be looking with longing at a mountain of candy inside a candy store window. Wide-eyed "Topher" fit the bill. What strikes me in that picture, however, is that he never gave off the sense that he was "acting" for the shot. Everyone believed he really wanted that candy! The camera lens doesn't lie.

That was Chris' life. He approached it wide-eyed and he grabbed all the sweetness he could get. Life under the PK lens never made him lose sight of what it meant to be genuine.

The shadows may have made it hard to focus, but, in the end, he left a portrait of a godly man. He was at peace with God, in harmony with his family and with the family of God, and loving and "liking" his little Stella.

It's a heartbreak he won't be here to leave some shadows of his own. He left us at high noon. But in heaven, in the light that will come from the face of Jesus, we will see his smile once again!