Fathers

     When I was little, he was synonymous with safety and fun. I have a specific memory of him working hard in the garage and saying to me, "ya know what I mean, Jellybean?" That term of endearment always made me feel special. I remember being sick in the middle of the night, and it was him who sat in the bathroom with me and brought me vanilla wafers. I remember the years of exhaustion and endless hard work, doing whatever it took to provide. He somehow became my "adventure buddy" along the way, going to concerts in crowded rooms with me, hiking, and exploring foreign cities together. 

     It was him that I butted heads with a dozen or 50 times in the years to come. Adulthood has meant being surprised by the things we disagree on, and sometimes surprised by the things we see the same. Over the years, there have been a handful of terrible heartbreaks. Sobbing in the driveway, weeping on my bed. And it was his hug that embraced me each time. Someone else had been a jerk, or broken my heart, or betrayed me, or had a massive failure in character, but he was still there. A rock of support and stability. I knew - and I know - that he will be there. And in those moments of heartbreak, being held in his arms is a feeling that even though life seems terrible, I have someone that I can count on. 

     I had the realization several years ago that he was the number one person that I felt loved me unconditionally. I realized that I could be a failure in every way and he'd still love me. It's not something I can explain in words, but I know it's true. I was the difficult child, and sometimes I'm a difficult adult. He lives with and sees the worst of me, and yet I have never once felt like a disappointment to him. How do you explain that? I'm sure there's something I could do (God forbid) to make everyone hate me. But I don't think he would. He'd still love me. He'd still be my dad. 

     He's done a lot for me in the last few years that no one will ever know about. It's involved time, effort, prayer, stress, and sacrifice. It has not been easy or fun. He's cried when I cried, and I know my pain was his. 

     Tomorrow holds a nerve-wracking thing for me. Today, he looked over and said, "Hey, I've been praying about tomorrow." It's a little thing, but it's a big thing.

      As prayers went up for fathers and grieving people and a myriad of others in today's service, I thought about the five kids at church whose dad died unexpectedly. I thought about the 10 others who just lost a dad to infidelity and had to uproot their entire lives, and how I cannot even begin to imagine how a heart feels after that. I thought about the man who lost his 68 year old father and best friend this week. For every happy person today, it seems like there are twice as many hurting ones. Fathers can love us but they can also break us.

     But we thanked God for our fathers in the faith. And we thanked Him for being a perfect heavenly Father. One that will never let us down or sin against us. One that knows us perfectly inside and out. One that is able to protect us, and provide for us, and knows our beginning and end. One who only does what is for our good. One who doesn't get tired, whose memory will not one day fail, who will not fail us.