On My Mind...
Sunday is Father’s Day. That’s caused me to engage in a little reflection. I’m so grateful for my dad. I knew he loved me. He never failed to provide for our family. By provided I mean more than put food on our table, a roof over our head and clothes on our back. He provided love and encouragement. We, my brothers and I, never played a game but that dad was there in the stands or on the bench! Oh, he could be tough on us. When he was coaching, he never hesitated to put his kid on the bench if it was needed but he was also encouraging and affirming.
I remember one incident in particular. My dad was an athlete, baseball and football. He played football at NEO in Miami. My brothers were athletes, Robert played baseball at Texas Tech, Ronnie at Northeastern. Me? Not so much. It was the beginning of football my senior year. I had played football, wrestled and played baseball through junior high and high school and I had no desire to continue any of it. I just wasn’t an athlete. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I went up to my dad when he got home from work and told him I needed to talk to him. I swallowed hard and told him I wanted to quit sports. He asked my why? I told him I didn’t enjoy it, and I only did it because I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me. He put his hands on my shoulders. Look me in the eyes and said, “You need to be who you are. You’re my son that’s why I’m proud on you.”
Through my college and seminary days, I don’t think I preached more than a few times without my dad being present. Even if that meant driving 100 miles one way and getting home late on Sunday night or early Monday morning to get up by 5:30 to be on the road by 6:30 to make his sales call. It was not uncommon for me to look up on a Sunday morning in Masham or Ponca City to see him in the congregation. Of course, I was his pastor for the last 18 years of his life. He didn’t always agree with his pastor, but he loved him and supported him. I overheard him once say to a friend, “I can’t catch a break. When I have a problem at work and go to the pastor for some help – he sides with my boss. Of course, my boss is my oldest son, and my pastor is my youngest son.” That was his way of saying he was proud of both.
I’m grateful for a father who taught me, by example, the love of God. I pray that I’ve been half as successful with my own children. I’ll see you Sunday.
Rod
I remember one incident in particular. My dad was an athlete, baseball and football. He played football at NEO in Miami. My brothers were athletes, Robert played baseball at Texas Tech, Ronnie at Northeastern. Me? Not so much. It was the beginning of football my senior year. I had played football, wrestled and played baseball through junior high and high school and I had no desire to continue any of it. I just wasn’t an athlete. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I went up to my dad when he got home from work and told him I needed to talk to him. I swallowed hard and told him I wanted to quit sports. He asked my why? I told him I didn’t enjoy it, and I only did it because I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me. He put his hands on my shoulders. Look me in the eyes and said, “You need to be who you are. You’re my son that’s why I’m proud on you.”
Through my college and seminary days, I don’t think I preached more than a few times without my dad being present. Even if that meant driving 100 miles one way and getting home late on Sunday night or early Monday morning to get up by 5:30 to be on the road by 6:30 to make his sales call. It was not uncommon for me to look up on a Sunday morning in Masham or Ponca City to see him in the congregation. Of course, I was his pastor for the last 18 years of his life. He didn’t always agree with his pastor, but he loved him and supported him. I overheard him once say to a friend, “I can’t catch a break. When I have a problem at work and go to the pastor for some help – he sides with my boss. Of course, my boss is my oldest son, and my pastor is my youngest son.” That was his way of saying he was proud of both.
I’m grateful for a father who taught me, by example, the love of God. I pray that I’ve been half as successful with my own children. I’ll see you Sunday.
Rod