He would have been 86 years old today had he lived. But God in his mercy took him from us in 1993. I used to call my mother on this day and talk to her and anything she wanted to. Then at the end she would say, "You know what today is, don't you?" To which I replied, "Of course, that's why I called." Now I can call neither.
I have visual reminders of him in my office. There are pictures that are part of my screen saver of him when he was a young preacher. I have another on my credenza of a young Meredith, probably about 2 years old, no hair, with Dad holding her. She's is serious and pointing at something. Dad has his mouth open in a wonderful laugh. Another picture sits on my desk. This time Meredith is about 10 years old and she's hugging Dad as I remember him so well. He's got on a white shirt, a tie, he has his plastic pocket pen holder in his shirt pocket full of pens. On the other side is Nate, a little 3-year-old holding Granddad's hand looking up at this tall man.
I can't help but think a metaphor here. Here's a little boy looking up to this man. And I, even to this day, look up to the man who molded my life. I miss him. But I know that he's enjoying his time with Mom and with Jesus. And even though he doesn't celebrate birthdays anymore, he's celebrating with the King he so faithfully served. Happy Birthday, Dad!
Have a great day. JW
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1 comment:
We still miss him at Harding too, Jim! What a wonderful Christian servant.
Love,
DU
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