Column: Sixty years

Hi friends! If you've kept up with me on here or my social media pages, I LOVE celebrating special days. This past Wednesday was no exception, when someone very dear to me had a birthday worth commemorating. I hope you enjoy this and will take the time to share it with others! :)

Original publication date: Friday, February 20, 2015
Random Writer
Sixty years

My dad's birthday was this week. A big one, for that matter. He turned 60 years old, which breaks down to six decades; 720 months; 3,120 weeks; 21,900 days.

That's a lot of life to have lived.

As a child, it's something you never really think about. You barely imagine your parents getting older, and when you do, it's not really in details but a vague imagination.

But as an adult, the thought tends to linger. It remains longer and more frequently. When my brother jokingly said, "We don't know how many more birthdays you'll have," I laughed halfway. The other half, I meditated on what he said as it brought to mind the Scripture that life is like a vapor (James 4:14); its truth resonated.

Now I write all of this with a hint of guilt. I know there are some who have never known their father or those who have a father but the relationship is all but existent or those who have already lost their father, who have to endure the passing of his birthday and every Father's Day without their dad. I don't know what that feels like. Yet.

Because I know there will be a day when he leaves this earthly life for an eternity with his Heavenly Father. We, his family, will remain here. Or, it may be the other way around.

Tears will be shed from initial loss. But laughs will be shared from past memories. Smiles will be formed from future comfort.

But in the meantime, my dad is here on earth with me. We'll still sit together quietly at the table during weekend breakfasts. We'll watch the evening news and discuss the current events. We'll talk about the Bible and break down Scripture.

I'll continue to imagine what it's like to start every day at 4:30 and commute to work. I'll wonder why he never taught me to play pool (he's absolutely fantastic at it) and still resent, to an extent, how he didn't want his younger three children to learn Spanish at an early age. I'll continue to imagine what it was like to grow up with nine brothers and two sisters, and my mind can't even fathom how he spent the early years of his life working the cotton fields.

I'll still marvel at his intelligence over an extensively wide range of topics and shake my head in sadness over the fact that this straight-A student had to drop out of school as a high school freshman to help support the family. I'll swell with pride at how a 40-something with a GED attended community college and graduated with honors.

But most of all, I'll keep on praising Jesus for the way He has worked in my dad's life and continues to do so. From taking him from who he was to become a new creation in Christ who has a deep love for missions. Because all these things about my dad--the good and the bad--come from the Father. And whether each of us have an earthly father or not, we can take our hurts and joys to God and bring them to Him. He never leaves us, He longs to have a relationship with us, and He is ever-present.

So to my dad, I love you and I'm so thankful God has given you sixty years. And to all of us, remember we're never lacking a patriarch in our lives. We have a Father who, no matter where we've been or what we've done, always has His arms of love stretched out waiting for us.