The Greatest

Many of you have heard plenty of stories and will hear more stories about my Dad's incredible life. What I have not told is Just what a great Dad he has been to me and my three sisters. Instead of telling a bunch of colorful stories (which I will save for later) I will just name a few things off the top of my head that remind me every day that I have the greatest dad a boy, teenager, and man could ask for.

When I was a kid, I suffered sever anxiety. I worried about world wars, vampires, bullies, having diseases, my parents getting a divorce (because of the occasional fight), and my sisters getting kidnapped, and dreams of my younger sister getting eaten by alligators in the pool (?). By the time I was nine years old I was getting up 3 times a night to make sure the oven wasn't on so that the house wouldn't burn down and had decided that I didn't believe in God because I added up the years in the bible and the Earth was only 3000 years old (crappy math) to my calculations. I was as sensitive as a cold sore and would cry at the drop of a hat and burst into raging anger fits over the smallest things. I was a bit of an emotional handful. On top of that I was ornery. Ornery as a starving raccoon. Just ask my sisters.

Despite my orneriness the thing that has plagued my life the most has been worry. Honestly, I still worry but not like I would if I didn't have the Father that I do.

One hot Indiana night, about 20 years ago, (that would make me 10 years old) I lay awake, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, worrying that I had a brain tumor because of some headaches that I was having that day. I finally got to the point where I couldn't take it any more and at 2 or 3 in the A.M. I got up, quietly walk to my parents door and gently "knock, tap, tap...." I heard some covers rustling. My dads voice emerged muffled from the other side..."What do you need?..." "Dad", I would say timidly, "could I talk to you for a second" There was a few seconds of silence....Then finally in a deep, tired and calm voice, "just a minute"

As soon as I heard these words I felt better. I knew that HE would have the answer. Finally after a minute or two my dad would emerge in a multicolored-striped robe and house shoes, hair a bit disheveled. We would walk into the living room, he would sit in his recliner and I would sit on the couch facing him. There he would quietly listen to my problem and worries. Then he would begin to tell me that I had nothing to worry about and there was nothing wrong with me. He would explain that the reason why you are having headaches is that "you rammed your head on the coffee table being rambunctious and that you just needed a couple of advils and a glass of water."

Then there was the time at 13 when my dad KNEW that I was smoking and drinking with my friends but of course he didn't let on that he knew. I came home from smoking down at Turnover-bridge with my older buddies (some 17 and 18). My sister said sarcastically, "were you down there smokin' with John and Dwight?" I would just say "No! Why don't you go smoke a barbie" which made no sense and was incredibly defensive. My dad just gave me a hug and said, "son, I love you and I know you wouldn't do something like that. You are too smart for that." -OUCH. It would KILL me inside to lie to my dad who I loved.

Like I said, he knew when to discipline and when to love. After all, as you will find out later in stories to come, he was pretty darn wild himself when he was younger.

Later in my early College years (17 as a freshman) it was my Dad who was waiting up for me at 2 in the morning worried. Not angry but worried. He would then probe into what I was doing and I would of course, tell a few windies here and there, and he would just sigh and say, "Okay, son, I trust you" and go off to bed at 2 in the morning...On a Saturday night....And he is a preacher. DOUBLE OUCH. After a few weeks of this waiting up it finally cured my short-lived partying days.

Recently I was reminded again what a great father I have when I came to terms with the fact that I won't have him forever.

6 months I got the call at church right before I was to go in and play for church. My cell phone rang and my oldest sister was on the line. "Seth, are you sitting down?" "What" I replied. "Dad is in the hospital and has to have emergency quadruple bypass surgery."

That Sunday morning they had rushed him to the hospital because he was having pains in his chest and back.

I stood there and I felt like someone had sucker-punched me in the stomach. It was the hardest church service I have had to attend or play through. The next day we flew in to Springfield to be at the operation.

Our prayers were answered and the surgery was successful. I was one of the six people to see him immediately after. Amazingly he was was already awake and talking. By the grace of God, my parents live near one of the top 10 best heart hospitals in the country. The surgeon was able to do the operation WHILE the heart was beating. Although the operation was a success, I had never seen my dad like this. Weak and frail. He had an oxygen mask on and He asked for my mom. She came over to him and he looked at her and said in a very deep but frail voice. "I see an angel"

This is the kind of father I have been blessed with and for this I am eternally thankful.

It is because of his encouragement and love that I think that I have such a healthy view of my Father in Heaven. I hope I can be half the dad to my kids that my father has been to me and my sisters.

Thanks Dad. Love you.