My Dad is 83 years old. It’s weird to think of him as an old man, but that’s what he has become. Still, he has a youthful way about him, even though he has a disease called “Lewy Body Disorder” which is slowly stealing his mind and body away. But, overall, he’s doing pretty good. In his prayers he recently began thanking God for letting him live a good long life. I’m with him on that one. I hope for the same.
I wrote a song for my dad a while back. I thought, since it’s Father’s Day tomorrow, I’d share the words here. In honor of my Dad, Luther Virgil McWhorter, who everyone calls “Bert” for some reason...
MY FATHER BEFORE ME
©1998 DJM MUSIC
As I make my way through another day
I say something or do something that reminds me
I am more my father’s son than I ever thought I would be
And as the years go by, when I look in the mirror
I see my father looking right back at me
I am more my father’s son that I ever thought I could be
But it’s more than a grin or the outline of a smile
It’s the shape my heart takes as I’m trying to find the answers
It’s the longing within me as I’m looking to the skies
It’s the Hand of Heaven shaping that makes me what I am
Like my father before me
Like my father before me
I may never know him like I think I should
There’s a distance there that makes it quite a mystery
How I am more my father’s son than I ever though I could be
I may never know him like I wish I could
But if I learn to know myself maybe I can see
How I am more my father’s son than I ever thought I would be
Cause it’s more than the sound of my voice when I am speaking
It’s the shape my heart takes when I look out on the water
It’s the longing within me as I’m looking to the skies
It’s the hope of Heaven waiting that makes me what I am
Like my father before me
Like my father before me
Peace to you.
© LW Publishing 2010
Showing posts with label Father’s Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Father’s Day. Show all posts
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
A Father's Torture
One of my daughters cut her finger the other day. She was using the apple cutter without permission and she took a little chunk out of one of her thumbs. It’s a little chunk, but she has a very little thumb. So it was hurting pretty bad. As she cried there was a look of helplessness on her face. She covered her mouth with her hand, crying, “It hurts! It hurrrrts!” And so we stayed calm in order to calm her. We took care of her and helped her get through it. We compressed it and finally got it to stop bleeding. It wasn’t stitch worthy, but it was close.
Even with something this small, it absolutely breaks my heart. I HATE seeing my children in pain. Of course I do. Any good parent does. It upsets me physically and emotionally to see them hurting. But you keep yourself calm and do everything you can to help them through it when it happens.
One of my other kids, a few years ago, ended up with a big cut on her forehead. It happened at an activity she was at. And it was WAY stitch worthy. It hurt you to look at it. So we drove her up to the after hours clinic to get it taken care of. And it still makes me cringe to think about it. It was so painful for her. (I was just trying to describe what they had to do and it’s making me upset, so I deleted it. You can just imagine for yourself.) But there wasn’t much we could do. I held her hand. I struggled with the anger I felt simply because my child was hurt. But we had to try and keep her calm while the doctor did his thing.
Sometimes, when this kind of thing is going on, my kids start saying, “Please Daddy! Please Daddy!” And what they are asking, with those two words, is for me to make the pain stop. Make it go away. Make things back how they were before the hurt started. And I would if I could, but I can’t.
And it’s like torture...
Which makes me think about God the Father looking at God the Son as the Son hung on the cross. I can’t help thinking about this. Watching my children in pain always takes me to this. And in that situation, if the Father stopped the pain, it would have stopped the forgiveness and redemption. The Father did not offer comfort because the pain and suffering was needed for our sakes. So they endured it. And, I think, it was a torture.
Not just for the Son, but for the Father.
Hebrews 12:2-3
Peace to you.
© LW Publishing 2010
Even with something this small, it absolutely breaks my heart. I HATE seeing my children in pain. Of course I do. Any good parent does. It upsets me physically and emotionally to see them hurting. But you keep yourself calm and do everything you can to help them through it when it happens.
One of my other kids, a few years ago, ended up with a big cut on her forehead. It happened at an activity she was at. And it was WAY stitch worthy. It hurt you to look at it. So we drove her up to the after hours clinic to get it taken care of. And it still makes me cringe to think about it. It was so painful for her. (I was just trying to describe what they had to do and it’s making me upset, so I deleted it. You can just imagine for yourself.) But there wasn’t much we could do. I held her hand. I struggled with the anger I felt simply because my child was hurt. But we had to try and keep her calm while the doctor did his thing.
Sometimes, when this kind of thing is going on, my kids start saying, “Please Daddy! Please Daddy!” And what they are asking, with those two words, is for me to make the pain stop. Make it go away. Make things back how they were before the hurt started. And I would if I could, but I can’t.
And it’s like torture...
Which makes me think about God the Father looking at God the Son as the Son hung on the cross. I can’t help thinking about this. Watching my children in pain always takes me to this. And in that situation, if the Father stopped the pain, it would have stopped the forgiveness and redemption. The Father did not offer comfort because the pain and suffering was needed for our sakes. So they endured it. And, I think, it was a torture.
Not just for the Son, but for the Father.
Hebrews 12:2-3
Peace to you.
© LW Publishing 2010
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