Gone From Our Sight...

Tomorrow we bury my dad.  A we were leaving to attend the visitation this afternoon my 6 year old said we were going to see Papa's shell.  I thought, huh, that's a good way to think of it.   It took this a few hours for me to recall a conversation we had earlier in the week while standing in the middle of the bathroom.  

     "Papa is like those insects we've been talking about when he went to heaven."

I wasn't listening close enough and didn't realize what his little mind was getting at.  We have been studying how insects molt.  They outgrow their old exoskeleton and shed it before getting a new one.  Pretty neat picture.  Faith like a child...

Following are the words I want to share tomorrow at the celebration of my dad's life.  I have read what my cousin wrote and  my brother is bringing the message and am looking forward to hearing what a difference my dad made in the lives of others.  So many came to give their respects tonight.  What a blessing to hear how much he meant to so many.

I must begin by saying, In the last week of my dad’s time on this earth I was privy to a conversation between he and his pastor in which he expressed his greatest regret.  It was that he couldn’t offer public thanks to all those who showed their love and support toward him in his infirmity.  As a man of limitless God-given talent he often had little need of outside help.  His humble acceptance of the gifts of many was purposeful in that his greatest desire was to bring glory to his Lord.  

As we sorted through several storage totes of old pictures picking and choosing shots to scan into our slide show we were reminded that Dad smiled a lot.  In early pictures it often looked more like a smirk, giving the enduring charm that he somehow held a secret joke to which he may or may not make you privy.  Later on the closed mouth grin turned to a full fledge smile after he had his crooked front teeth, those particular genetics of which I was the sporting recipient and wear proudly, altered.  If you ever had the opportunity to ask my father’s state of being in a greeting you most likely heard him reply, “content”.  Dad was happy because he made a concerted effort to live Phillippians 4:11b.  “for I have learned in whatever state I am to be content.”  This was a learned behavior for my dad.  

My dad didn’t like taking vacations.  If he had his druthers he would never leave the farm save to run to the “Home Shopper” for project supplies.  Mom was the driving force behind our yearly August pilgrimage to Cass Lake.  She would pack up enough food, tents, bedding, and clothes for a weeks foray into the wilderness that is primitive camping in northern Minnesota.  We don’t fish, so the two most important elements of our vacations are food and books.  After a brief foray into the “granola” style of eating dad proclaimed if Mom didn’t fill the chuck box with junk food he would not accompany her.  Thereafter Mom made sure to prepare a healthy amount of caramel corn to fuel dad as he pursued his second vacational requirement, reading.  

My dad carried a briefcase.  Dad had great penchant for boxes, and what is a briefcase if not a specialized box with a handle.  It was in the rest of our best interests for a full week at the lake if the briefcase was at capacity with reading material for Dad.  Customarily when he ran out of books the party was over and we headed for home.  It could be that mom didn’t yet have her vacation preparation routine down to an art form as of the summer dad turned 27, that or she had a baby or was pregnant any one of which a good guess in said time frame.  Whatever the case, Dad must have run short on reading material and happened to go to town and picked up a couple Sci Fi books.  By God’s design one of the books he mistook for science fiction was Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsey.   Therein Dad read of God’s plan for the redemption of mankind.  He was confronted with the fact that it was his personal sin that sent God’s own son, Jesus, to the cross as sacrifice in his place.  Dad accepted this sacrifice and surrendered his life to live for the Lord.  He unzipped his tent and emerged a new creation in Christ.  His first step was to go down to the beach and share with family the miracle God had done in his life.  

The following November mom accepted Christ as her savior.  My earliest memories of my parents are of them being on fire for the Lord.  They were in and led Bible studies.  They helped start Liberty Baptist Church in Dike.  When I was very young I remember my Dad reading through the volumes of Thru the Bible by J. Vernon McGee.  He had them stacked up in a pile on the floor next to his bed.  The Bible and commentaries took the place of science fiction.  I seldom recall seeing him read fiction.  He was always studying to prepare for the next Sunday school or Bible study.  Friends would stop by and Bibles would emerge to join the endless cups of coffee around the dining table as the discussion was imbued with deep theological thought.

Dad’s favorite family devotional was the book of Proverbs. Since Proverbs is divided into 31 chapters it is very convenient to the reading of one a day.  Once again the dining table was his classroom as we sat while he expounded on verses relevant to our daily lives.  

“He who passes by and meddles in a quarrel not his own is like one who takes a dog by the ears.” Proverbs 26:17.  This was possibly a fitting picture for the interaction among six siblings. 

One of our favorite verses as kids, the words of which paint a rich picture, was Proverbs 26:11,

“As a dog returns to his own vomit, So a fool repeats his folly.”  None among us wanted to act with character akin to the vomit eating dog!

Proverbs 22:6 says, “Train up a child in the way he would go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.”  Dad’s goal as spiritual leader in our family was to lead us to a saving knowledge of the Lord, Jesus Christ, then to disciple us by providing us with the   necessary tools for Christian growth.  

The verse Dad shared with his progeny pertaining to how he is to be remembered is from Proverbs 22:28, 

“Do not move the ancient landmarks which your fathers have set.”

Our quivers hold potential arrows for God’s army awaiting being loosed on targets we could never reach.  My dad has left a visible, growing legacy large enough to fill a couple pews.  It was his greatest desire for his children and grandchildren to walk with God.

I fretted for days about what I wanted you to know about my dad.  He was a humble, artistic, generous, servant.  I could fill pages with memories and lessons learned. However, being the organized leader he was, when we were planning his funeral he was explicit that it not run too long.  So I will end with this.   Above all, what he would want you to know is he was a sinner saved by God’s grace, and therein he found reason to be content.