The One Thing I Love the Most About My Dad

There are so many things I love about my dad...I love his laughter, his bear hugs, his booming bass voice, his big shoe, his bald head, his love of jokes, his smile, his love for God and his family...and the list goes on and on...

But the ONE thing I love the most about my dad is that he showed me the FATHER.

Not in a preachy kind of way, not in a banging-the-Bible-over-my-head kind of way...He just naturally showed me the Father in every day life circumstances.

It has been said that a person's dad has a lot to do with one's view of the Heavenly Father. I think there is a lot truth to that...

As I comb back over my childhood, there are certain memories that rise to the top...I didn't see it then, but now I recognize them as defining moments...moments where my dad showed me the Father's heart...His love, His faithfulness, and His GOODNESS.

Growing up in Brazil, we often spent Christmases at the beach...it was the middle of summer and it was very hot. I loved the beach, but I was deathly afraid of the waves. I was happy as a lark to stay in the shallow water where it was safe.
When I was about 7 years old, my dad coaxed me to get on his shoulders and go out into the deeper waters with him, where the waves were big.  He insisted that it would be fun and that there was nothing to be afraid of...so I finally decided to trust him.  But there was one problem...my dad, having one leg shorter than the other, was a little unsteady on his feet without his big shoe.
We slowly inched our way out where the water was up to his chest.  I was perched on his shoulders, squealing with delight, when a huge wave came out of nowhere and crashed over top of us! The force of the water took us both under and he lost his grip on me.
It seemed like forever...I remember panicking and thinking I was going to drown, when all of a sudden, my dad's mighty hand and outstretched arm reached in and grabbed me out of the water.
My dad's arm was not too short to save...And neither is my Father's! 
My Father doesn't want me to just stay in the shallow water where it's predictable and safe. He wants me to let go of control, to trust Him and to climb up on his shoulders and venture out into the deeper waters with Him. He wants me to know that even when the waves come crashing down and it feels like He has lost his grip on me, His mighty hand and outstretched arm will never let me let me drown...His love endures forever! (Ps. 136: 12)

Every time before my dad would spank me, he would say, "This is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you!" What was he thinking...that those words were going to comfort me and make it less painful?! Somehow, deep in my heart, I knew that to be true, even at a very young age. I KNEW it because that hand that disciplined me was ALSO the hand that I clung to when crossing busy streets...the hand that picked me up when I fell...the hand that I held every night at the dinner table as we prayed...the hand that tucked me into bed at night...the hand that squeezed me tight in a big bear hug...the hand that always pointed me in the right direction.
I trusted my dad's hand because I trusted his heart!
That discipline WAS painful...for both of us...but my dad did it anyway...consistently and lovingly!
That's my Father too.... "Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father?...Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our GOOD, that we may share in His holiness. No discipline is pleasant at the time, but painful! Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." (Heb. 12: 7-11)

My dad has a thundering bass voice! Anyone who has ever heard my dad sing, will agree. He is known for his amazing voice and his passionate singing. With my dad, there's no such thing as volume control! The volume is the same whether he's singing in a group of 10 or 1000.
I will confess, there were times when I was younger that I thought to myself, "I wish he wouldn't sing so loud, this is embarrassing, people are turning around and looking at us!"
Sometimes, it was the only voice that could be heard...louder and clearer above all the rest.
But, THAT'S my daddy's voice...that's my Father's voice! Who am I to quench the mighty thundering voice of my Father? Who am I to worry about what other people think when my Father's voice overpowers the room?
God said to Job, "Do you have an arm like God's and can your voice thunder like his?" (Job 40:9)  Job was trying to justify himself but God was asserting HIS ability, which Job had no control over.
My daddy taught me that it's okay for my Father's voice to be louder than all the rest...it is not up to me to control the volume!
Every morning on our way to school, my dad would sing "Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day, I've got a beautiful feeling, everything's going my way!" We would plug our ears and beg him to stop...it was early and he was too loud! But that didn't stop him! He would continue, sometimes dragging the song on and on and on...and on and on and on!
Don't you know our Father wants to remind us of this every morning, even if it hurts our ears? He will not allow our disposition to diminish this truth, "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!" (Ps. 118:24)

When I was about 8 years old, we got a puppy...she was a sweet miniature dachshund and the minute I saw her, I named her Ginger!  She was our family dog, but I considered her MY dog. One morning as we were pulling out of the driveway to go to school, Ginger ran out and got under the back wheel of our Kombi and accidentally got run over.
We all jumped out of the car to check on her...she whimpered and was clearly hurt, but had no external injuries.  My dad quickly carried  her inside for my mom to look after while he ran us to school so we wouldn't be late. His plan was to drive us to school and then to come back and take her to the vet.
I went through my day at school, confident that Ginger was going to be okay. I couldn't imagine that not being the case.
Just like every other day after school, my brothers and sister and I rode the city bus home. I couldn't wait to get home and see Ginger! When we walked in the house, my mom met me at the door and told me to go to their room. There sat my dad, sadder and more distraught than I had ever seen him. He took me in his lap and with his quivering voice, told me that Ginger didn't make it. The internal injuries were too severe. He hugged me and told me how sorry he was. We both cried...it was a moment that is forever emblazoned in my head.
My dad was heartbroken too!
What mattered to me, mattered to him.
What broke my heart, broke his.
That's my Father too...
"The Lord is near to the broken hearted...and saves those who are crushed in spirit." (Ps. 34:18)

My dad is a man of unparalleled principle and integrity. He is truthful and honest and is a man of his word. Growing up, he taught me that lying is wrong, to let your "yes be yes and your no be no", and that it's always right to do the right thing.
He didn't have to preach it, he just lived it.
I grew up very secure, knowing that my dad would never make promises he couldn't keep and that he was always telling the truth. 
That's my Father too...
"God is not a man that he should lie, nor a son of man that he should change his mind. Does He speak and then not act? Does He promise and not fulfill?" (Num. 23:19)
"The Lord is faithful to all his promises and loving towards all He has made" (Ps. 145:13)

My dad has lived a life of sacrifice, doing good, and giving of himself for the good of others. As a missionary to Brazil for over 36 years, he has sacrificed a lot...but what he has gained is priceless. Thousands of people all over Brazil and other parts of the world know Jesus because my dad made a sacrifice. 
That's my Father too...
"For God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life" (John 3:16)

One of the things that I admire the most about my dad is that he never let his disability determine his destiny. It so easily could have...
He walks with a limp and has a big shoe but that is not what I see when I look at my dad...
I see a man that has been faithful to the call of God on his life. 
I see a man who knows and trusts Jesus when He says, "My grace is sufficient, for my power is made perfect in weakness...for when I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Cor. 12:9,10)
I see a man who has lived like he really believes that "In ALL things God works for the GOOD of those who love Him and have been called according to His purpose." (Rom. 8: 28)

I've thought a lot about these things over the past couple of years and have often pictured myself sharing them at my dad's memorial when God chooses to take him home.
But...why wait until then? Why wait when I can tell him now?

So, Dad...this is for you.  I am so proud of you.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart for showing me THE FATHER.  I love you!