Happy Birthday, Dad
"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror, then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." -- 1 Corinthians 13:12
Today would have been my dad's 71st birthday. Let me give you a spoiler alert -- he wasn't a perfect dad. Whose is, right? But most likely unintentionally, he introduced me to the character and love of God, and I thank Him and him :) for that gift. The Lord uses so many things in this world to give us hints of the world to come, and a father's love is one of those things.
When I was 18 years old, I stopped running from God and fell into His arms of grace and mercy! I remember that flood of freedom and peace drowning me in joy! That happened a few days before I went off to college. Dad had seldom expressed any interest in spiritual matters so I thought it best to break my good news to him at another time. Not long after I went away, ladies from the church stopped by to visit and encourage me. Dad was furious and -- God bless those ladies! -- blasted their sweet, unsuspecting hearts! Then came his phone call to me -- telling me that I was no longer his daughter, that I was a fool for believing "that junk," that I was no longer welcome back at home. I was devastated. Spending my high school years in a home where divorce and separation were a part of the story, Dad and I had been through a lot together. And here we were -- undone over my love for Jesus. In His wisdom and kindness, God had placed me in the midst of some strong Christian girls who dried my tears and encouraged me and helped to give me some perspective.
A couple of weeks later, I received a letter from Dad, and when I saw his handwriting, I was afraid to open it. I figured it would be a continuation of the tirade he had begun on the phone. With a fearful heart, I read his words, and tears streamed down my cheeks. He apologized -- a hard thing for a crusty fella like Dad -- and basically said that even though he didn't agree with me, he realized that I was an adult and had enough sense to make my own decisions. He said he loved me and was looking forward to me coming home for a visit.
That tough guy softened over the years, and eventually we got to the point where we could talk about the Lord and things in the Word. At some point, he was invited to a weekend retreat, and to this day, I can't figure out why he said "yes" other than the Lord was working in his heart. In preparation for his special weekend, friends and family were invited to write a letter to him that would be given to him at some point during the retreat. I was delighted! This was my chance to tell my dad that my love for God was all his fault! :)
I told him that the love of an earthly father -- even if imperfect -- is God's way of introducing us to His good and perfect love. And I proceeded to list ways that Dad's goodness and love for me helped my eyes to be opened to my Father's character and devotion.
I was born when my dad was 19 years old. College and additional education where off the table as he worked to provide for his new little family. I remember many years when he worked two jobs to make ends meet and to cover expenses. He was determined to provide for us -- not necessarily the fanciest things, but we never lacked for what we truly needed. Hmmm...sounds like our God? He sees our needs, knows what is best for us, and never leaves us lacking. He is our strong Provider Who gives out of the abundance of Heaven's riches.
One of my earliest memories of anything was when I was preschool age. My parents had been arguing, and my mom was packing up my and my brother's things so we could go to her sister's house for a while. I remember Dad coming home on his lunch break to attach a luggage rack to the top of the car for our trip. And I remember him crying his eyes out the entire time. He was devastated to see his family falling apart. And guess what -- God weeps when He sees His children -- His church -- crumbling over secondary matters, failing to be united in our one true hope in Jesus.
One of Dad's most favorite things to do was to take a drive in his pick-up -- ALWAYS a Ford! He would often head out to run errands and invite me to ride along. We would make the circuit and then just take whichever road or street seemed good to him that day. If it was a special day, we would stop and pick up Cokes to drink along the way. Sometimes, there was lots of conversation. Sometimes -- especially when I was a teenager! -- there was only silence. But it didn't matter to him. He just wanted my company. Whereas Dad had the hard job of trying to figure out what I was thinking, God doesn't struggle with that. When I'm quiet, He knows my heart. When I'm confused, He knows the way for me to go. When I'm frustrated or worried or mad, He's there to help me sort out my thoughts and feelings and process them through the truth of His Word. And sometimes, there's a lot to talk about. Sometimes, there's just quiet. That's okay, too. He just wants my company.
I started dating in high school (you know how mature and wise a 14-year-old girl is!). On more than one occasion, some nice young man would walk up to our front porch and meet my dad -- sharpening his hunting knife rhythmically on a whetstone. It always made a big first impression, and I'm lucky I ever got to go on a date --EVER! Right until he passed away, he called me his "little girl." So maybe you think he was a little protective?! If you think an oilfield roughneck with giant biceps standing on the porch sharpening his knife is tough, you should meet my GOD -- otherwise known as the Lord of Heaven's armies! And as it turns out, in a heartbeat, He'll unleash whatever it takes to keep His girl safe and on the path to life. Mama bears have NOTHING on the God Who hides me under the shadow of His wings, keeps me in His perfect peace, and is my Rock and my Refuge.
Believe it or not, when I was a teenager, I was not the rule-following, responsible, do-gooder that you know me as today. (HAHAHA!) I tried my dad's patience. I stayed out too late with "that boy" (whom I later married), I was on the phone way past the cut-off time of 10:00 p.m., I sassed with the best of them. The list goes on. Suffice it to say -- I drove my dad crazy (and apologized profusely over the years once I had the gift of my own two teenagers!). I was grounded so often and for so long, it's a wonder I didn't die from vitamin D deficiency! Even as a kid, I remember literally running over my brother with my bike (I warned him that if he kept lying on the sidewalk, I would run over him!) and then hearing the sound of justice pursuing me in the form of cowboy boots thudding rapidly down the sidewalk and a belt flying out of its loops in slow motion (think Zorro) and making contact with my behind. Dad loved me enough to (try to) discipline me. God loves me that much, too. He knows that sometimes my hard head only learns the right and best way by experiencing His velvet fist of correction. He's never worn down by my complaining or whining or resisting. He perseveres ad won't relent because my best is what He desires for His daughter's heart.
I vaguely remember coming home late at night from long road trips and being picked up and carried to my bed by Dad's strong arms. Wish I could remember the very last time that happened before I was too grown up. As years passed, my tough old dad began to tell me that he loved me at the end of his phone calls. He became a "hugger," and his voice would crack with emotion as he tried to tell me how much I and my family meant to him. It seemed urgent and important that I know how much I was loved. and to my Heavenly Father, IT IS URGENT AND IMPORTANT TO KNOW HOW MUCH I AM LOVED.
If you ever knew my dad or if you had a front-row seat to our family life, you know he wasn't perfect. So please don't call me or message me about whatever it is that you remember about him that was just plain human or wrong. Sin and fault can be found in abundance within each of us, and for most of us, we don't have to dig too far to find it. God used my dad in his flawed and imperfect ways to introduce me to a PERFECT love -- committed, protective, rich in provision and goodness. Through that "poor reflection as in a mirror," "knowing in part," Dad gave me hope of "seeing face to face," knowing "as I am fully known." I know it's YOUR birthday, Dad, but thank you for the gift you gave to me. Love you. See you soon.
Today would have been my dad's 71st birthday. Let me give you a spoiler alert -- he wasn't a perfect dad. Whose is, right? But most likely unintentionally, he introduced me to the character and love of God, and I thank Him and him :) for that gift. The Lord uses so many things in this world to give us hints of the world to come, and a father's love is one of those things.
When I was 18 years old, I stopped running from God and fell into His arms of grace and mercy! I remember that flood of freedom and peace drowning me in joy! That happened a few days before I went off to college. Dad had seldom expressed any interest in spiritual matters so I thought it best to break my good news to him at another time. Not long after I went away, ladies from the church stopped by to visit and encourage me. Dad was furious and -- God bless those ladies! -- blasted their sweet, unsuspecting hearts! Then came his phone call to me -- telling me that I was no longer his daughter, that I was a fool for believing "that junk," that I was no longer welcome back at home. I was devastated. Spending my high school years in a home where divorce and separation were a part of the story, Dad and I had been through a lot together. And here we were -- undone over my love for Jesus. In His wisdom and kindness, God had placed me in the midst of some strong Christian girls who dried my tears and encouraged me and helped to give me some perspective.
A couple of weeks later, I received a letter from Dad, and when I saw his handwriting, I was afraid to open it. I figured it would be a continuation of the tirade he had begun on the phone. With a fearful heart, I read his words, and tears streamed down my cheeks. He apologized -- a hard thing for a crusty fella like Dad -- and basically said that even though he didn't agree with me, he realized that I was an adult and had enough sense to make my own decisions. He said he loved me and was looking forward to me coming home for a visit.
That tough guy softened over the years, and eventually we got to the point where we could talk about the Lord and things in the Word. At some point, he was invited to a weekend retreat, and to this day, I can't figure out why he said "yes" other than the Lord was working in his heart. In preparation for his special weekend, friends and family were invited to write a letter to him that would be given to him at some point during the retreat. I was delighted! This was my chance to tell my dad that my love for God was all his fault! :)
I told him that the love of an earthly father -- even if imperfect -- is God's way of introducing us to His good and perfect love. And I proceeded to list ways that Dad's goodness and love for me helped my eyes to be opened to my Father's character and devotion.
I was born when my dad was 19 years old. College and additional education where off the table as he worked to provide for his new little family. I remember many years when he worked two jobs to make ends meet and to cover expenses. He was determined to provide for us -- not necessarily the fanciest things, but we never lacked for what we truly needed. Hmmm...sounds like our God? He sees our needs, knows what is best for us, and never leaves us lacking. He is our strong Provider Who gives out of the abundance of Heaven's riches.
One of my earliest memories of anything was when I was preschool age. My parents had been arguing, and my mom was packing up my and my brother's things so we could go to her sister's house for a while. I remember Dad coming home on his lunch break to attach a luggage rack to the top of the car for our trip. And I remember him crying his eyes out the entire time. He was devastated to see his family falling apart. And guess what -- God weeps when He sees His children -- His church -- crumbling over secondary matters, failing to be united in our one true hope in Jesus.
One of Dad's most favorite things to do was to take a drive in his pick-up -- ALWAYS a Ford! He would often head out to run errands and invite me to ride along. We would make the circuit and then just take whichever road or street seemed good to him that day. If it was a special day, we would stop and pick up Cokes to drink along the way. Sometimes, there was lots of conversation. Sometimes -- especially when I was a teenager! -- there was only silence. But it didn't matter to him. He just wanted my company. Whereas Dad had the hard job of trying to figure out what I was thinking, God doesn't struggle with that. When I'm quiet, He knows my heart. When I'm confused, He knows the way for me to go. When I'm frustrated or worried or mad, He's there to help me sort out my thoughts and feelings and process them through the truth of His Word. And sometimes, there's a lot to talk about. Sometimes, there's just quiet. That's okay, too. He just wants my company.
I started dating in high school (you know how mature and wise a 14-year-old girl is!). On more than one occasion, some nice young man would walk up to our front porch and meet my dad -- sharpening his hunting knife rhythmically on a whetstone. It always made a big first impression, and I'm lucky I ever got to go on a date --EVER! Right until he passed away, he called me his "little girl." So maybe you think he was a little protective?! If you think an oilfield roughneck with giant biceps standing on the porch sharpening his knife is tough, you should meet my GOD -- otherwise known as the Lord of Heaven's armies! And as it turns out, in a heartbeat, He'll unleash whatever it takes to keep His girl safe and on the path to life. Mama bears have NOTHING on the God Who hides me under the shadow of His wings, keeps me in His perfect peace, and is my Rock and my Refuge.
Believe it or not, when I was a teenager, I was not the rule-following, responsible, do-gooder that you know me as today. (HAHAHA!) I tried my dad's patience. I stayed out too late with "that boy" (whom I later married), I was on the phone way past the cut-off time of 10:00 p.m., I sassed with the best of them. The list goes on. Suffice it to say -- I drove my dad crazy (and apologized profusely over the years once I had the gift of my own two teenagers!). I was grounded so often and for so long, it's a wonder I didn't die from vitamin D deficiency! Even as a kid, I remember literally running over my brother with my bike (I warned him that if he kept lying on the sidewalk, I would run over him!) and then hearing the sound of justice pursuing me in the form of cowboy boots thudding rapidly down the sidewalk and a belt flying out of its loops in slow motion (think Zorro) and making contact with my behind. Dad loved me enough to (try to) discipline me. God loves me that much, too. He knows that sometimes my hard head only learns the right and best way by experiencing His velvet fist of correction. He's never worn down by my complaining or whining or resisting. He perseveres ad won't relent because my best is what He desires for His daughter's heart.
I vaguely remember coming home late at night from long road trips and being picked up and carried to my bed by Dad's strong arms. Wish I could remember the very last time that happened before I was too grown up. As years passed, my tough old dad began to tell me that he loved me at the end of his phone calls. He became a "hugger," and his voice would crack with emotion as he tried to tell me how much I and my family meant to him. It seemed urgent and important that I know how much I was loved. and to my Heavenly Father, IT IS URGENT AND IMPORTANT TO KNOW HOW MUCH I AM LOVED.
If you ever knew my dad or if you had a front-row seat to our family life, you know he wasn't perfect. So please don't call me or message me about whatever it is that you remember about him that was just plain human or wrong. Sin and fault can be found in abundance within each of us, and for most of us, we don't have to dig too far to find it. God used my dad in his flawed and imperfect ways to introduce me to a PERFECT love -- committed, protective, rich in provision and goodness. Through that "poor reflection as in a mirror," "knowing in part," Dad gave me hope of "seeing face to face," knowing "as I am fully known." I know it's YOUR birthday, Dad, but thank you for the gift you gave to me. Love you. See you soon.
