A Word about Fathers

First I have to confess that this is a result of reading a highly moving post about a dad this morning. It reminded me of so many things that I appreciate about my father, that I finally decided that it would be ridiculous not to post about it.

My father was born into extreme poverty in South Arkansas in 1947. It is hard to convey the level of simplicity his life held without conjuring up mental pictures crossing somewhere between Old Yeller and Little House on the Prairie. My father's father was born in 1886 (that is not a typo) and had already raised a family and buried his first wife when my father was born. (I am now going to revert to calling him Daddy, because that is what I really call him and it feels too strange to call him father.) The home daddy was born into was a 2-room house with no running water or electricity. His mom cooked on an old cook stove, and his dad plowed with a mule drawn plow. Somewhere in his middle years he and his mom moved to town and his father passed away. Daddy continued the rest of his childhood in relative poverty in South Arkansas and was churched in the Southern Baptist tradition (I'm pretty sure those are the only churches in South Arkansas.) Although my Grandmother was a wonderful person who loved her son dearly, Daddy, for all practical purposes, raised himself through his teenage years.

This seems like the beginning of a sad story but really it is one of amazing determination and strength of character. Because somehow, against all odds and statistics, my daddy rose up, not only finishing high school in a time when many did not, but going to college, and then law school. He somehow completely rose above the circumstances of his childhood and strove for a future.

Something else happened that began a very important part of my daddy's life during this time..... he walked away from God, and claimed instead to be an atheist.

Daddy began a promising career as an attorney, becoming the Public Defender of his city, and running in the right circles. I am told that during this period of time he wore a large leather cowboy hat and smoked giant, fat cigars (I have not found any photographic evidence of this and am forced to believe the storytellers at their word.)

I cannot do the next sequence of events justice, although I've heard them many times. Through a series of what can only be called miraculous events Daddy radically changed his life, giving it over to God completely. He also realized that God had something in mind for him. During this period of time he also married my mom, and began immediately raising a family. He gave up his aspirations of political greatness and instead developed a new one...... being a great father. And he was. I don't remember more than a handful of times that my daddy wasn't home at 5:30 in the evening, sitting down to have dinner with us, asking us about our day. My daddy didn't work on cars or play golf or have other hobbies (all of which are perfectly fine), he instead spent every weekend at home, doing whatever needed doing around our house, and just generally being there. He began a modest law career, to make ends meet, and instead focused on the ministry, pastoring a church for a time, doing some work of a traveling evangelist (always with us in tow), and eventually 15-17 years ago staring a ministry called South Church. South Church feeds and meets the needs of many homeless and impoverished people in our community. Many of the people are mentally ill and generally hard to be around, they call on him at all hours, often showing up at his law office to ask for help, and he helps them..... endlessly. My daddy prayed for me every night of my childhood that I can remember right up to the night prior to my wedding. He then preformed the ceremony, I will cherish that memory always.

As an adult with more understanding of the society I live in, I have reached a new and profound understanding of the love and quiet sacrifice my Daddy made for our family. One of the first things I realized was that Daddy probably didn't prefer driving the old beat up vehicles he always drove downtown to work (where BMW's and Mercedes are the norm), but instead gave up having nice vehicles so that each of his 6 children could have a vehicle of their own. He probably would have liked to have lived in nicer homes, but instead offered each of us financial assistance in getting started in life. He has baptized each of his grandchildren as they have made their own decisions to follow Christ, and his oldest nephew has already decided that his papa is his spiritual hero, traveling and spreading the gospel, even at the age of 17. Daddy has never turned me away when I needed him, and I am in awe.

My daddy's story is one of strength, character and overcoming the things of the world in order to work for a greater, eternal good. Some kids don't have dads, I have a legacy to pass onto my children.

Thank you Daddy.