Today, I spent Father's day 1177 miles away from my dad. In the last two weeks, I have moved from Lubbock, Texas to the town of Wilmore, Kentucky. Father's day was the first holiday or special occasion which reminded me of all the valuable relationships I left many miles away. I miss them all. But today, I was comforted as a reflected on some precious memories of my daddy that I would like to share.
I remember when I was 5 years old having a guys night "in" with my dad. The girls probably went shopping or something, so my dad and I had the house all to ourselves. What did the boys choose to do? Turn the living room into a wrestle-mania center with one catch: you could only wear underwear. The look on Mom and Haley's face when they arrived home told of us how silly we were.
In that same year, my mom and I found a snake in a tree one summer afternoon as we were playing catch in the front yard. I don't recall my reaction, but I know my mom freaked out. She phoned my dad, and he rushed home a friend from the La Tech Wesley. They began to throw every ball in the house at a snake on a branch some 40 feet in the air. My job was to collect all the misfires and bring them back. Some 40 minutes later the snake was knocked out of the tree, and I was having the funnest afternoon of my childhood.
I remember when I was in fifth grade. I was a sports fanatic. Not only did I watch Sportscenter 3 times a day, I also played every sport I could. That summer I was pitching for my baseball team in Lubbock, TX. My friends called me "El Duke" because I had the most out-of-control leg kick in the history of baseball. It was ugly. But that day I was pitching the game of my life. I had struck out 10 batters, and only allowed a few hits. It was the last inning, and we were down by one run. I was on third base when the pitcher from the other team through a wild pitch. I dashed for home, but the ball beat me there. Then I made a slide where I slid under the tag to touch home plate before the ball touched me. What a play, except that the ump screamed OUT! I remember crying all the way back to the dugout (I was that kid). My dad's reaction? He was CLIMBING the fence arguing the call with the ump. He may have been out-of-control or crazy, but my dad fought for me.
My dad is also a pastor. I have been blessed by all the conversations I have shared with my dad whether in a one-on-one, family, or group setting. But my dad's sermons have shaped me into who I am. He taught me more than just right and wrong, he taught me what it meant for Jesus to be Lord. His sermons taught me what it means to be a man, what it means to be forgiven, what it means to be humble, and what it means to be dependent on him. It's pretty unique to have my dad be my pastor, but I am beyond blessed to have been shaped by the Holy Spirit speaking through his words.
Today I carry my dad with me. I love to be silly. I love to be fun. I will fight for those I love. And I love Jesus.
I also LOVE my dad.
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