What do you do with Father's Day when yours is gone? I've tried a variety of coping strategies over the years. As a teenager, I mostly tried to ignore it. I figured if I didn't acknowledge the day, I could pretend I hadn't lost my daddy to cancer days before starting 10th grade. Not terribly effective.
Later, I decided to acknowledge the other father figures in my life, without whom I might not have become the fabulous adult me you see before you now. Ha! Kidding. Men like Jerry Selvidge, Terry Partin, and even Steve West. Some of these men, I thanked. Some probably don't even realize the impact they made.
But this Father's Day feels uniquely different and special. In a matter of hours, I will be spending time with the two fathers who probably matter most in my life now. Not as father figures for me, but THE fathers of my most precious children, my nieces and nephews.
My favorite part of these family get togethers is when we sit around and talk about the old days. The Michigan days. The persuade the sister to taste vanilla days. The basketball in the driveway days.
The kids love hearing these stories. They like to hear about the trouble their dads found. The pranks they pulled on their sweet and precious baby sister. The broken window and poster covered hole in the wall.
I love this sacred ritual of storytelling. Legacy leaving. Memory making. Where mere mortal men are transformed into heroes. Big eyed kiddies and skeptical teens become believers in the coolness of dads. Their dads.
And the stories inevitably turn to my dad, their grandfather. The grandfather they never knew for themselves but have come to know and love through the stories.
Basketball stories. Dog stories. Gardening and garage building stories. Disgusting, Dig Down Deep, Puppy Down Deep stories. And the silly, Thumbnail That Grew stories.
But my favorite stories are the faith stories. Stories of hitch hikers leaving gifts of just the right amount of money. Hamburger stand sales that paid car payments. Joyville and bus ministry stories. Cash left in the hand after a handshake stories. Summer school subbing without pay stories. Stories of mysteriously paid college tuition bills. And my favorite, enthusiasm sock stories.
On this Father's Day, I'm reminded of words from an old hymn, "Tell me the story of Jesus, write on my heart every word. Tell me the story most precious, sweetest that ever was heard."
On this day and the next few to come, I will participate in the ancient, legend making tradition of storytelling. Where heroes are made and seeds of faith are sewn.
My wish for you on this Father's Day is that you would join me. Tell the faith building, legend making stories of your real life fathers and father figures to the precious children in your life. Write on their hearts the story of Jesus as lived by their dads or the men you wish were their dads.
