Daddy

If My Dad Was God For A Day

~ mercyfortheday ~ Leave a comment

She was writing the final paper for her senior year in college. The professor assigned the topic for the class. They had to answer one question. What would the world be like if your dad was made God for a day? This woman felt she was at a huge disadvantage. She grew up in a home with a single mom and little to no contact with her earthly father. So. How would the world be different if her earthly father played God for the day?

This woman said that her thoughts and opinions shaped the world and God’s place in it based on who her earthly father was. She perceived God to be absentee, unpredictable and emotionally disconnected, uninterested in her life. That was almost a mirror reflection of her relationship with her earthly father. She realized she had an inaccurate view of God and needed to change it. So, the following year she enrolled in seminary so she could learn a more accurate understanding of who God is.

Not all kids growing up in the same household have identical view of their fathers. Each kid’s personality and strengths and weaknesses are different, so a father will interact with each child in a unique way. Some who knew my dad might see him in a different light than how I see him. If they were telling this story, he might look a bit different. But isn’t it the same when we have opposing views of God? We may see God differently than someone else does. It all depends on our experiences and our views of many different elements of life.

It is an interesting question. And I thought I would put it to the test. What would the world be like if my dad was made God for a day? I’m basing my description on my dad’s chosen life’s work, not on his personality traits or strengths and weaknesses.

My dad was a farmer, so you could say that he worked from home. A normal day in the life of my dad would see him working on his farm. His workday would start with feeding the pigs. Then, he might sort the pigs into different categories. He would consider which ones were ready to be sold for slaughter and which ones to keep for growing the herd. If some pigs were ready to give birth, he would move them to the nursery. The job of a pig farmer seemed to revolve around sorting and feeding his pigs.

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God, the Almighty. Revelation 4:8

On another day, my dad might work in the fields from morning until evening. In the spring, he would plant corn and soybeans. In the fall, he would plant the wheat and harvest the corn and beans. He would harvest the wheat in the summer or early fall. The work of a grain farmer consists of cultivating the ground, planting the seed and harvesting the crops. And praying for rain.

There was always work to be done in the fields. The soil had to be prepared for the crops that would be planted. There was plowing and cultivating the ground in order to soften the soil, because the soil had to be ready to accept the seeds that were sown in it. Once the crops were growing, fertilizer would be added for a plentiful harvest. At certain times in the growing process, he would till the land to remove weeds that had popped up between the rows of crops. If weeds weren’t removed, they could overtake the crop and there would be no harvest. Weeds had to be kept under control.

As farming methods progressed, my dad would use the no-till method of planting where the soil would not be disturbed until the seed hit the ground. The previous crop that had died back would be left in the field, and a new crop would be planted directly over it. This would prevent soil erosion. There was never any expectation that the seeds would plant themselves or the crops would harvest themselves. The farmer must do the work of planting and harvesting.

A farmer’s work is never done. If my dad wasn’t working in the fields or with the pigs, he might be repairing his farm equipment. There were tractors, combines, trucks, plows, disks, cultivators, planters and possibly other tools I can’t quite recall. The man was busy from morning to night. And on beautiful sunny evenings, he would load his family in the pickup truck to drive around the countryside admiring the fields of crops.

Everyone may not agree with my dad’s method of farming, but his work always produced great results. His crops produced a higher yield that other farmers in the area. He knew that the secret to a huge harvest was to start with healthy soil and the best seeds. My dad had a proper understanding of raising healthy and productive crops.

Now knowing what a day in the life of a farmer looks like, what would the day look like if he was God? With my dad’s background in farming, I could see him as a nurturing God. As a discipler and a disciplinarian. He would be interested in feeding the souls of his people, but he would also discipline those who are going astray from his teachings. He would mentor those who are eager to know more about him and what makes him holy. He would sort the wheat from the chaff, the good fruit from the rotting fruit.

If my dad was God for a day, he would produce a huge harvest, because he had been faithful with the little he had been given. His crops would be able to provide for many who are less fortunate. He would feed the hungry and teach them how to feed themselves. His hard work would not be in vain. His talents were proven to be good, and he loved his work.

Not everyone approves of God’s ways, but his work always produces the best results. Perfect results, actually. He can do no wrong. The good news for my dad and for everyone is that he will never be God. There is only one God, and no one compares to him. And when we look at the truth of God that is found in Scripture, there’s only one story to tell about God. Our opinions and life experiences don’t change who God is or what he does.

My Kind of Man

~ mercyfortheday ~ 1 Comment

He was a man of few words.  Until he spoke.  He gave good solid advice.  He made sound decisions.  He spoke with authority.

He was a man among men.  He was a leader.  Oh.  He didn’t seek out leadership positions.  They sought him.  Whether it was the school board.  The church board.  The farm association board.  He always ended up being the leader.  He never said if he was comfortable in that position.  But somehow those positions always found him.  And he led well.  He was respected and loved.

My dad loved to tease people.  He would honk the horn at pretty women.  Flirt with them.  Joke with others.  He had a nickname for most people.

He laughed when a prank caller insisted he was cheating on my mom.  My mom didn’t laugh.  He wasn’t cheating and they both knew it.  He loved my mom with a fierce love.  He was protective and watchful over her.  To her dying day.

Daddy loved pears and hated iced tea.  He always wanted a watermelon with candles for his birthday in July.  Birthday cake was not good enough for this man.

I think back to my childhood years when life was carefree for me.  They were years of hard work for him.   I can picture him in his v-neck t-shirt, worn thin from years of wear.  I can see him leaning against the kitchen door frame.  Head thrown back in a hearty laugh.  Oh.  I can still hear that laugh.

The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.  Proverbs 16:9

After sitting on a hot, noisy tractor all day, my dad liked to walk into a quiet house.  Piano practice had to be over.  The radio turned off.  No noise.  Just peace and quiet.  That’s what he liked after a noise filled day.

Daddy loved his work. He’s the first man I ever knew who loved his job. Oh. It wasn’t a job. It was a lifestyle. It was hard work with few rewards and great sacrifice. It was farming. And it ran in his blood.

His heart attack forced retirement on him in his early 70’s. He never really bounced back from the open heart surgery. It made an old man out of him.

Every night before we went to bed, he would call us kids into the living room.  He would pull out the Bible story book and open it.  There we would sit and listen as he read a story to us.  We read through that book many times over the years, with those stories engrained in our memory.  Then we would kneel and pray as a family.  Each night.  Those prayers are engrained in my heart.

Oh.  He wasn’t a perfect man.  But he was the wisest, smartest and noblest man a girl could ever choose for a father.  No.  He didn’t play ball with us or take us out to eat.  But he taught us a solid work ethic.  He taught us to share what we had with others.  He led by example.

I love the kind of man my dad was.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but I chose a husband made from the same cloth.  One who loves God.  Loves his work.  Has a great sense of humor.  Makes solid decisions.  A leader.  An influencer.  Well respected.  Someone I wholeheartedly trust.  That’s my kind of man.

 

So Close to Eternity

~ mercyfortheday ~ Leave a comment

Today on Father’s Day, I think of two men.  Two men who never knew each other.    Different values.  Different lifestyles.  Different beliefs.  Different worlds.  They both were fathers.  That appears to be their only common ground.  I don’t know why the first man even comes to mind.  But he does.

I remember when Saddam Hussein was killed.  Some witnesses videotaped his death.  His hanging.  I saw parts of the video on the news.  It was graphic.  It was disturbing.  It was unsettling.  He died.  People wanted confirmation that he was gone.  There it was.  Ugly and haunting.

He seemed so calm in the last moments of his life.  He wasn’t fighting his captors.  He was as a lamb being led to the slaughter.  Quiet.  Reserved.  Defeated.

I wonder if he had been drugged.  I wonder what he was thinking.  When they opened his cell door for the last time, did he know he was going to his death?  Did he know that in just a few short minutes he would be in eternity?  A never-ending place where he would reap the rewards or punishment for his life on earth.  Did he know?  Was he ready to meet his Maker?

If he knew, what was he thinking?  Did he try to make peace with God?  Did he ask forgiveness for the atrocities he had committed?  Did he shake his fist at God and curse him?  Did he believe in God? What were his final thoughts?

It isn’t mine to know.  It isn’t mine to judge.

The Lord knows the thoughts of man.  Psalm 94:11

I remember another man’s death.  I wasn’t with my dad when he breathed his last breath, but my sisters were there.  He had been on hospice for 3 months.  During those final months and days, my dad exhibited peace and contentment.  He knew he was dying.  He knew he was going to heaven.

Some days he would want to hold your hand and tell you that he loved you over and over.  Other days, tears would roll down his face.  At times, he would look up to the corner of the room with a far-off look.  He was seeing a place he had only read and heard about.  Heaven.  He would sometimes see people.  Others who had gone before him.  He would call them by name.

He had said he was waiting for my  mom.  He never wanted her to be alone.  He waited for her.  In those final three months of his life, he portrayed a sacrificial love for the woman he had pledged his life to 60 years earlier.  He kept his vow.  Till death us do part.

His heart was weak.  His body was frail.  His voice was soft.

His love was strong.  His faith was sure.  His eternity was secure.

During his final days, he would reach with outstretched hand to heaven.  Trying to touch it.  Wanting to enter those pearly gates.  As the end drew near, he would lie there with his eyes closed.  No longer speaking.  Not in this world.  Not in the next.  Hovering between two worlds with a smile on his face.  He was seeing heaven.

He had made peace with his life.  He had waited for his beloved to go before him.  He was ready to meet his Maker.

His last words.  So close.  So close.