I was blessed to have two Dads. My birth Father was special to me. He had a quirky kind of sense of humor; some people call it a dry sense of humor. When I was headed off to the Boy Scout Jamboree in Idaho back in 1969 it was the farthest I had ever been from home by myself. My Mom was giving me all kinds of advice about what to watch out for, how to act, to be careful, and have fun. All my Dad had to say was, “Make up your mind, do you want to be careful, or to have fun.” My Dad taught me work ethic (although I didn’t realize it at the time). We all had chores to do and we couldn’t do anything else until they were done. We learned that there were consequences for what we did wrong and it wasn’t just time out. He taught us how to be courteous and respectful to women and others by the way that he treated our Mom and other people. He taught us how to mourn when my Grand Father passed away and that things don’t always go as planned when the family’s only car broke down half way along the way to Iowa for the funeral. He worked some long hours to provide for us but he set aside time for all of us also. Now I can’t honestly say that I have always acted according to these lessons and I’m not proud of the way I have always treated people in my life but my Dad’s lessons were still there none the less, and have helped to make me a shadow of my Dad. One other thing that He taught me was that I was blessed with another Father, my Heavenly Father. My Dad and Mom didn’t just drop us off at Church on Sunday mornings, we were all there as a family. My Dad was not a great singer but I remember looking up at him during the hymns while he followed along and sang all the words to hymns that still sing in my heart today. He showed me how to be involved in Church by volunteering and leading and teaching and caring for others. He had a compassion for people. My Dad passed away 5 years ago just a few months before his 90th birthday. I visited him in the nursing home where he no longer lived in our world but in somewhere else in his mind. I would listen to him talk to old navy buddies and teachers and I would try to join in the conversation. On one visit just a few weeks before he died he was rather quiet so I pulled out my Bible and began to read familiar passages and then started to sing to him some of the old hymns. Suddenly he started in on his own, “Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him! How I’ve proved Him o’re and o’re! Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus! O for grace to trust Him more!” He stopped for a moment with a grin on his face and looked past the empty open door of his room and said, “Oh, you liked that did you.” I’d heard that quip before when we would laugh at his corny jokes. It had become a habit to try and see what invisible person he was talking with so I asked, “Who you talking to Dad?” He answered as if I should have already known, “Jesus.” And I should have. Happy Father’s day to both of my Dads, and to you, Pastor Dean.
Pastor Dean Hanssen is the Ministries & Outreach Pastor for LHF.
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