FATHER'S DAY: A TRIBUTE

Saturday, June 19, 2010

The following words today are from Max Lucado's excellent book,God Came Near. I had to edit it to the length I wanted for this post. I feel I have captured the heart of what he wanted to say.

Today  is Father's Day. A day of cologne. A day of hugs, new neckties, long-distance telephone calls, and hallmark cards.

Today is my first Father's Day without a father. For thirty-one years I had one. I had one of the best. But now he's gone. He's buried under an oak tree in a west Texas cemetery. Even though he's gone, his presence is very near--especially today.

It seems strange that he isn't here. I guess that's because he was never gone. He was always close by. Always available. Always present. His words were nothing novel. His achievements, though admirable, were nothing extraordinary.

But his presence was.

(At this point, Max Lucado describes all the ways his father was present for him. To be brief I needed to leave this out. Please, in your own mind, fill in this space with thoughts of your own father. I hope you had/have a good one.)

He comes to mind often. When I smell "Old Spice" after shave, I think of him. When I see a bass boat I see his face. ...And I knew if I ever needed him, he'd be there.

Like a warm fireplace.

Maybe that's why this Father's Day is a bit chilly. The fire has gone out. The winds of age swallowed the last splendid flame, leaving only golden embers. But there is a strange thing about those embers, stir them a bit and a flame will dance only briefly, but it will dance. And it will knock just enough chill out of the air to remind me that he is still...in a special way, very present.