My dad is going to be eighty years old this week.
I have so many wonderful memories of my dad, of the times when he took me in his big, strong arms and carried me around; of the times when I walked in his bootprints in the snow; of the times when I sat in church and listened to him preach; of the times when we visited folks from church and I sat and listened to him as he talked with them in that kind, gentle voice that was so warm and friendly and encouraging; of the times when we'd be out in the garage working on a project and he'd try to teach me something when my head was in the clouds and his patience would be wearing thin but he'd keep trying anyway.
When I think of my dad, I think of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. My dad serves other people just like Jesus served, and serves, his. It's how he loves people. A lot of people in this world are wanting to serve themselves, buying lots of fancy toys and going on expensive vacations to places where they are waited on, hand and foot. My dad buys tools so he can make beautiful things for people, and he takes "vacations" to places where he gets to visit the people he loves.
That's another one of my favorite life memories: going on trips with my dad, visiting friends and relatives along the way. Seems like he has friends all over the place, so there's never a lack of places to stop and visit.
I wish we could be there at his birthday celebration. Truth is, I'm kind of upset that I can't be there. But we have obligations here in town with the Marching Band; Deb is performing downtown with the Grand Rapids Symphony, and if there's one thing my dad taught me, it's to support your kids in what they do. And I try to do that when I can. I love my kids, even when they're in those difficult years when they can't stand being in the same house as their parents and they can't wait to get out. I remember feeling that way when I was in high school, so I don't let it get me too stressed out (other than worrying that they'll make a wrong decision and I won't be around to fix it). I encourage the kids to be independent, to prepare for the day when they (finally) go out into the big, wide, scary world on their own. I'm thankful that my parents prepared me for that step.
We had lots of adventures back in the day. Trips to Yosemite, Mariposa, the beautiful brown foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Columbia. The Ozarks. Reunions in Indiana. Riding through the Blue Ridge Mountains. Trips to the coast, Nag's Head, Kitty Hawk. Driving out to California in Bill's VW bus. Seeing the Milky Way at a rest stop. Seeing all those relatives I didn't know, whose names I could never remember - but you always did.
My parents instilled in me a strong sense of adventure. Always looking out for the next opportunity. And it served me well, getting me all the way out to Seattle, then back east to New York, Baltimore, Joplin, looping around to Seattle again. And now Michigan!
And dad instilled in me a few other things that I treasure to this very day. A love of woodwork (although I'm nowhere as proficient). A joyful anticipation every time I pop the hood of my car to work on an engine. A deep appreciation for old movies. A desire to serve others. A passion for singing.
Most of all, he instilled in me a desire to teach Jesus. Not to adults, though; I'll never be comfortable teaching adults because they're always wanting to get into arguments about things that seem more opinion than doctrine. But I love teaching kids. There's nothing in the world like the feeling when you see a light go off in a child's eye when he "gets" it, when he understands what Jesus is all about, what God's love means, why the Bible is so important. When all those stories come together like a giant puzzle and click into place.
Thanks for teaching me about Jesus, Dad. So I can share the love and the wonder and the joy with all these amazing kids. They are all a part of your legacy.
And Happy Birthday! I love you!!
I have so many wonderful memories of my dad, of the times when he took me in his big, strong arms and carried me around; of the times when I walked in his bootprints in the snow; of the times when I sat in church and listened to him preach; of the times when we visited folks from church and I sat and listened to him as he talked with them in that kind, gentle voice that was so warm and friendly and encouraging; of the times when we'd be out in the garage working on a project and he'd try to teach me something when my head was in the clouds and his patience would be wearing thin but he'd keep trying anyway.
When I think of my dad, I think of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. My dad serves other people just like Jesus served, and serves, his. It's how he loves people. A lot of people in this world are wanting to serve themselves, buying lots of fancy toys and going on expensive vacations to places where they are waited on, hand and foot. My dad buys tools so he can make beautiful things for people, and he takes "vacations" to places where he gets to visit the people he loves.
That's another one of my favorite life memories: going on trips with my dad, visiting friends and relatives along the way. Seems like he has friends all over the place, so there's never a lack of places to stop and visit.
I wish we could be there at his birthday celebration. Truth is, I'm kind of upset that I can't be there. But we have obligations here in town with the Marching Band; Deb is performing downtown with the Grand Rapids Symphony, and if there's one thing my dad taught me, it's to support your kids in what they do. And I try to do that when I can. I love my kids, even when they're in those difficult years when they can't stand being in the same house as their parents and they can't wait to get out. I remember feeling that way when I was in high school, so I don't let it get me too stressed out (other than worrying that they'll make a wrong decision and I won't be around to fix it). I encourage the kids to be independent, to prepare for the day when they (finally) go out into the big, wide, scary world on their own. I'm thankful that my parents prepared me for that step.
We had lots of adventures back in the day. Trips to Yosemite, Mariposa, the beautiful brown foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Columbia. The Ozarks. Reunions in Indiana. Riding through the Blue Ridge Mountains. Trips to the coast, Nag's Head, Kitty Hawk. Driving out to California in Bill's VW bus. Seeing the Milky Way at a rest stop. Seeing all those relatives I didn't know, whose names I could never remember - but you always did.
My parents instilled in me a strong sense of adventure. Always looking out for the next opportunity. And it served me well, getting me all the way out to Seattle, then back east to New York, Baltimore, Joplin, looping around to Seattle again. And now Michigan!
And dad instilled in me a few other things that I treasure to this very day. A love of woodwork (although I'm nowhere as proficient). A joyful anticipation every time I pop the hood of my car to work on an engine. A deep appreciation for old movies. A desire to serve others. A passion for singing.
Most of all, he instilled in me a desire to teach Jesus. Not to adults, though; I'll never be comfortable teaching adults because they're always wanting to get into arguments about things that seem more opinion than doctrine. But I love teaching kids. There's nothing in the world like the feeling when you see a light go off in a child's eye when he "gets" it, when he understands what Jesus is all about, what God's love means, why the Bible is so important. When all those stories come together like a giant puzzle and click into place.
Thanks for teaching me about Jesus, Dad. So I can share the love and the wonder and the joy with all these amazing kids. They are all a part of your legacy.
And Happy Birthday! I love you!!
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