A line from my favorite poet friend, “Some days are like this. Suspended between water and grief and recollection” struck me this afternoon as a good summary of the emotions I associate with my days of late and this one in particular.
Water: It is cloudy and sprinkling here. My husband is out leading a second church in worship after leading both services at our church with our oldest. I am grateful to God for a husband who teaches our children to worship. The light girl is singing through the morning’s praise roster in the shower. At church her friend sang up front and drew her in. Plus, we made more connection on a lovely day trip to the beach on Fenwick Island, Delaware. Quite fun! Beautiful weather and cold water. My dad spent summers there with his parents and their lifetime friends.
Grief: Thankfully my father is still living. His father died when I was 11. Both his grandfathers died before I was born. I wrote a journal entry of a quote from Dad a couple years ago now about the struggle in the moments when life seems to be beating you up but letting you continue on. It was a depressing time. Turns out life isn’t the only thing that dies. Jobs die. Abilities die. Memories die. Yet, in the midst of each the faithfulness of God is reflected in our continued faith in the One who cannot die and has promised us Life as we cannot even imagine it. I think both of us are experiencing less heavy times this Father’s Day. I pray so.
Recollection: My father taught us worship, not with guitar or music so much, but with deep and abiding love for the church as the people of God. As well as with great faithfulness to the people to whom he was called to minister even before he was officially ordained; and even after he “retired” from ministry. And this picture, with lifetime friends and my youngest son, at the celebration of my mother’s birthday sums up my fondest memories of my dad. At a table with good friends, food, and conversation. Of course, regular trips to the $2 movie theater walking distance from our house when I was in high school and memories of swimming in oceans and pools filter through. I remember the small chapel in the Church of the Atonement on Georgia Avenue where he preached as a seminary student. The blessing of changing careers when your children are old enough to watch. Upstairs is a letter file with every letter my father wrote me in college. He wrote weekly! Downstairs is a file cabinet with folders of things to read and sermons preached; he did move to cds later. 🙂
As the culture drifts further away from respect for men as fathers and husbands and seeks to change the rules for marriage and family, I am overwhelmed by the blessing that an intact family has been to my life. And I am certain that my father’s role in my life makes it so much easier to fulfill the roles God has given me.
Blessings for a day to be thankful to our heavenly Father for all those who fill the role of father in your life.
To find the full poem http://anneoverstreet.wordpress.com/2013/05/13/monday-again/