A Faithful Father

My Dad: he was a cute little fellow, wasn't he?

Memories of my dad from my early years are sketchy. Probably because he was busy earning the nickname my mom pegged him with later in life: Hard-Working-Husband.

Engagement photo in front of his red Ford Fairlane

My earliest memories from my toddler years are of cheering for him at his basketball games. He attended Bible college and played on their basketball team, while working so that my mother could be home with her 3 little girls.

When I was entering 4th grade, Dad moved us to northern Indiana so we could be in a Christian school, while he worked swing shifts at the steel mills to pay for private education for all 6 of us. I remember that the conditions in which he labored were less than ideal...sweltering in the summer and frigid in the winter, and I used to lie in bed worrying about him working on the roof all night when it was in the teens with those famous icy winds blowing in from Lake Michigan.

By the time I was in Junior High, Dad was still working at the mills, but was also attending Purdue Calumet. His company recognized him as a very bright, mathematically-minded man, and paid for his continuing education. Funny thing is, it seems that he made it to all our school's sporting events...and he didn't even have players on the teams! We were all girls, and in those days all girls did was CHEER! I don't know how often he actually showed up, but it seems like a LOT in my memory. He also seemed to be at most of our musical performances, and there were plenty of those.

I'm always surprised too when I realize how many school and church events we were able to participate in. Maybe they only cost $1-5 each, but there were 6 of us, and though we were often stretched to the limit financially, he found a way to afford it.

And then...I'll never forget him "pushing" me from the nest. I left for college at age 17, two weeks after high school graduation. When I called home for advice, I was distressed that he wouldn't tell me what to do. He asked me questions that forced me to look at the situation from several angles, but he wouldn't tell me what to do. I was mortified, but since I ended up being on my own for the next decade, it was a good thing he expected me to stand on my own two feet.

But my dad was more than a provider and advisor.

My dad always was, and remains to this day, a faithful man. A faithful provider, husband, father, and Christian, who tells me he loves me every time we meet or talk, no matter how briefly. He has lived the life of a sacrificial servant, laying down his life for ours, and has testified to the goodness and faithfulness of God through all sorts of trials and blessings. That is a priceless heritage for which I cannot be thankful enough.

He's the kind of father who makes you want to live up to his desires...to fulfill his lifelong ambition that his children fully embrace the gospel with their heads, their hearts and the works of their hands. May it be so. I hope that my life brings him satisfaction and joy in his old age and that he'll live and die knowing that his work here was not in vain, but was honored by the Christ whom he exalted.

Thanks be to God for this man, who above all others, deserves a most happy Father's Day!