Father's Day

After Pat and I made plans for this year’s Father’s Day I spent some time musing on the impact my father had on my life. I have often repeated anecdotes about his influence. While Dad lacked formal education, he left elementary school to work on the family farm, he grew in understanding and wisdom throughout his nearly 85 years of living.

In preparation for this Father’s Day I will remember a long list of lessons I learned from him, lessons I learned by observation, by spending as many as 60 hours per week with the man who knew God and daily honored Him. I will remember and reflect on how well worn Dad’s Bible was. The old Thompson Chain Reference was replaced in later years by a rather heavy large print edition of the King James Version. I am impressed that it was worn from use, and that Dad grew in understanding the proper application of its truths.

I have been forever affected by how thorough Dad was, in everything. His garage was neatly organized. The tool boxes were arranged "just so," and cutting blades were honed to razor sharpness and protected for future use. He plied his craft, installing hardwood floors, with precision and looked back with satisfaction on his workmanship. While closing the door of another completed job, I remember his walking around the newly swept floor making sure everything was as it ought to be.

But how Dad finished is the most remarkable. We had driven from Northern New Jersey to Michigan because Dad had been hospitalized again. He often experienced life- threatening infections. During our visit, we spent as many hours together as we could, but time for us to return home came too quickly. As I was saying goodby, I mentioned that I felt sorry for him. I wanted to fly Mom and Dad to New Jersey to meet the people we pastored, for them to see our children in sports activities, and to visit the Big Apple!

As I mentioned that I "felt sorry," Dad lifted his weakened hand and said, "Stop! Never feel sorry for me!" "But, Dad, you are paralyzed, and you haven’t been out of bed for years!" He then began an almost rhythmic speech, one of contrasts and insights that remain imbedded in my memory more than twenty years later. Preachers could use the lines with great effectiveness. I do! My father, the undereducated man who grew in knowledge and appreciation for the ways of God, said, "It is true that I cannot walk, but I have and have worn out many pairs of shoes. Some have never walked and others have never owned a pair of shoes. I have more clothes than I can ever use or wear out. Many are naked. I have never been hungry when I fell asleep. Others have never been full. Some are alone and homeless. I am surrounded by family in a comfortable home. Son, I was so young that I cannot remember when I learned that there is a Great God in heaven who loves me so much that He sent His Son to die for my sins! Don’t ever feel sorry for me! I have it good! Now, go and do the work you are supposed to be doing!"

Now, you may understand why Father’s Day is so important to me. Dad was an unbelievably powerful role model.