completely stupid very naive at nineteen. I was also self-absorbed, which, when stirred into stupid, made for an unfortunate personality cocktail.
In those days, my
narcissistic limited worldview was matched by an arrogant less-than-endearing attitude that I was always on point about exactly everything. No one could tell me a thing I hadn’t thought of first. In fact, I was allergic to reasonableness, details, rules, and every kind of follow through. I was also annoyed by every little thing you did. They said I was a real peach.
You will note the irony, then, when at nineteen, I somehow made the most heads-up, brilliant, far-reaching, and best decision of my life: I chose to love David. Twenty-five years after the
miracle fact, my parents are still shaking their heads in disbelief and wonder gratitude. It’s no secret that they love him more than they do me.
Was it sheer luck, then, that in a season bereft of
a shred of much wisdom, I experienced a flash of thoughtful maturity, like a strike of lightning on a clear day? Had I randomly picked the winning lottery ticket? Or was there possibly more to the story?
Of course there is more, friends, and his name was “Dad”.
I had a faithful dad. He wasn’t perfect, but my father was constant and true. Dad believed that God would take care of his family in every way. He never returned evil for evil. He was faithful to mom, and encouraged his five children with great zeal.
My father entrusted himself into God’s hands, even during exceptionally difficult times. I grew up tasting and seeing that God was really good. Of all the things dad taught me while under his roof, this is the lesson for which I am most grateful.
And so, even with all my issues, at the
awful awkward age of nineteen, I was able to identify a man who delighted in God’s ways, and who understood what it meant to be faithful. Thanks, dad.
David had a faithful dad. His father wasn’t perfect either, but he was patient, generous, and devoted to the well-being of his family. For eighteen years, David was a keen observer of a humble man who took his calling as a husband and father seriously.
David’s dad committed his ways, his marriage, his time, and his family to the LORD, and so his youngest son grew up tasting and seeing that God was really good.
At the age of nineteen, David knew what it looked like to live, and love, as a faithful man. Thanks, dad.
We have a faithful Father in heaven. Not all earthly dads are faithful, or good. Many are absent. Some are selfish. None is perfect. For some of us, there may be significant pain, feelings of loss, hate, confusion, or anger when we think about our fathers. It tastes bitter. This is not as it should be.
If this is you, please know that you did not pull the losing lottery ticket. There is also more to your story. Your earthly father is not like your Heavenly Father. He will never leave you. He would die, rather than lose you. His face is forever turned towards you, and his ear is always attentive to your cry. Your Father carries you, fights for you, comforts you, and welcomes you. Crawl into his open arms. Seek his wise counsel.
Even when you blame, doubt, or forget him, your Father’s love will not turn cold. He is not demanding. He is not calculating, or conditional. His ways are not man’s ways! As his beloved and precious child, there is nothing you can do to lose his love. He made you, weeps with you, delights over you, and you are his. You will always be his. Your name is engraved on his hands, forever.
Good dads, you display God’s love and commitment to all his children in your humble and daily faithfulness. Thank you.
May the LORD you ever bless you, and keep you – today and always – and give you his peace.