A Rare Dad

Monday was my Dad’s birthday. He is seventy-six now. I cannot conceive of having a better Dad than I do. I guess growing up I didn’t realize that my Dad was so unusual. I thought all dads were like mine.

• I thought all dads were always ready with an encouraging word.
• I thought all dads knew how to balance correction and praise, rebuke and blessing.
• I thought all dads knelt by their boys beds every night and prayed every.
• I thought all dads went to prayer meeting.
• I thought all dads carried a heavy burden for the moral purity of their sons.
• I thought all dads helped their sons start businesses.
• I thought all dads taught their sons to save money for college.
• I thought all dads urged their sons to give to the work of God.
• I thought all dads got up before sunrise to help their sons deliver papers.
• I thought all dads cared about our grades and your teeth and your breath and body odor.
• I thought all dads insisted on clean bedrooms.
• I thought all dads taught basic auto maintenance.
• I thought all dads played out in the back yard with their sons until it was dark.
• I thought all dads talked theology with their boys.
• I thought all dads taught their sons the Bible.
• I thought all dads insisted on clean talk.
• I thought all dads got up on Sunday morning with a song on their heart.
• I thought all dads drove their kids to summer camp every year.
• I thought all dads cheered themselves hoarse for the slightest athletic success.

…And wept with their sons, and laughed with their sons and slept out under the stars and went fishing.

Now I’m a dad and I realize how much effort and energy and devotion and commitment it takes to be a dad like mine and I admire him for it and love him more. I’m older now and I’ve seen more of the world and I now know how unusual my Dad really is.