I changed jobs recently. It was one of those difficult decisions that I agonized over for way too long, and that left me wishing desperately that my dad was around to advise me.
Growing up, my brothers and I frequently compared dad to “Pa”, portrayed by Michael Landon Jr. on the 1980's show Little House on the Prairie, because he had a way of always knowing the right thing to do.
That was just how he was – effortlessly wise, inherently wholesome, genuinely compassionate and unflinchingly fair.
When he passed away, I sat for hours in a room with a blank piece of paper trying to come up with SOMETHING to say at his funeral.
But how could I possibly sum up the life of someone so amazing? How could I convey what my dad meant to me?
There is no denying that he left a mark on the EFCA denomination, that he impacted the way that many young pastor’s think about church multiplication. I don’t doubt that there are thousands of people who were impacted by his preaching and thousands more by his counseling and care.
But in the end, I just kept picturing how I used to talk to him until he said his ears were hemorrhaging - asking questions that I didn't even care about, so that our conversation wouldn't have to end. Oh how desperately I wanted to talk to him again, to ask him just a few more delaying questions, to tell him I loved him one more time and to hear that he was proud of who I had become.
Because although my dad was an accomplished teacher, a brilliant strategist, a profound preacher, a passionate church planter and a great leader… more than all that, he was a great lover of God, his wife and his family.
If I’m really honest with you, what I admired the most about my dad was that he came home and got down on the floor to play with me and my brothers. He took me out to breakfast regularly and asked about school, my friends, my first crush. He woke me up with a goofy song in the morning and made me a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich for lunch every day. After my brother was paralyzed, he took up hand-cycling and modified kayaking so they could still enjoy the outdoors together. He would kiss my mom in the kitchen while she made dinner and rub her feet while they watched T.V. At Thanksgiving he would bake a homemade pumpkin pie with me from an actual pumpkin. He told us extravagant mystery stories around the campfire each summer and cut down an 18 foot Christmas tree for the living room each winter. He attended the Father Daughter Ball with me every February and we danced the polka until he was sweating through his suit. He sang little made-up lullabies to my brother’s daughter, his first grandchild and the only one he would meet this side of heaven. He officiated all three of his kids weddings and many of his "honorary children's" weddings.
He loved us.
He loved us in ordinary, extraordinary ways.
And although I know there is so much that I could talk about when I talk about my dad – this Father’s day I find myself missing the man he was behind the scenes. The man he was at home. The man he was to us.
In one of my dad's sermon's on parenting titled "A Father's Mandate" ( found here -> http://www.anchorpointchurch.org/positive-parenting.html), he said this:
“Our job as dads is to encourage our children to live authentic lives in Christ. Encouraging is about communicating positive truth but also about living positive truth... more in our lives is caught than is taught. So dads - our job is to recognize that we are an example for our kids. ”
And what an example he was.
You see, I wish I had something a little more profound to say today, but honestly I just feel like a little kid without her dad: a bit lost and a lot lonely.
I keep expecting the ache to become less, but it never really does. I keep thinking I’ll grow up, but it turns out I’ll never outgrow my dad.
“Grief can awaken us to new values and new and deeper appreciations. Grief can cause us to reprioritize things in our lives, to recognize what’s really important and put it first. Grief can heighten our gratitude as we cease taking the gifts life bestows on us for granted. ”
The thing is, families are eternal. And the life you lead, the way you spend your time and invest your love has an impact that will echo on forever.
My dad may not be here for me to hug today or for me to ask his advice. But I know that parts of him continue on in me. I know that I want to live in a way that prioritizes the things that I valued in my dad's life. I know that someday, I want my kids to be able to say that what they remember most about me is who I was at home.
Daddy - you were the absolute best father I ever could have dreamed of or imagined. I miss you so insanely, so deeply, so profoundly. Thank you for loving me in the little ways, for being present, for listening to my chatter, for showing me what it is to live for Christ.
I love you, Happy Father's Day.