Just last Tuesday

You always read these articles about ways to be more content, how to be satisfied with the life you have... etc. I was never one who felt the need to read such articles. My life is good. Generally, I am very content. Once in awhile, though, everything comes crashing to the ground.

Last Tuesday, we got a phone call from my brother saying that Dad had passed out on their drive home from work. We didn't think it was a big deal. Mom rushed in to the ER bringing a change of clothes for my dad in case he had to stay overnight. Twenty minutes later, Mom called me and said the two words that changed everything.

He's gone.

I can hardly bare to type it, but it's true. At seventy-seven he was much too young to be gone. He and my mom were getting ready to celebrate their 50th anniversary next summer, planning where they wanted to go on vacation. Instead, we said good bye to him last Friday.

Dad was a man of few words. Norwegian, steady, honest, humble, patient, hard working, with a wry sense of humor, a smile on his face as he went through life. He loved God, his family, and his country, in that order. Not one to preach, his life was a testimony to his faith in God. Truly I was blessed to have a father who lived his faith.

My dad was always giving people second chances. Helping someone out when no one else would. Hiring someone that had recently (or was still) struggling with their own personal demons. Growing up, it was not uncommon for our home to be opened up to those wounded souls whether it be at Thanksgiving or the middle of the night. If someone needed help, my dad was there.

I was not an easy child to parent. Head strong, impulsive, hot tempered. Often, I acted first and thought later. But Dad never yelled at me. On more than one occasion, I remember Dad sitting on the bed next to me after I had done something I shouldn't have. With his eyes full of pain and love he would ask me, "Do you like to make your mom cry?" Not trying to guilt trip me, he genuinely couldn't understand why someone would want to hurt another person's feelings.

Sometimes, giving second chances meant that my dad was taken advantage of. Being compassionate can be bad for business. Dad would fire people when he had to, even try to counsel them make better choices, but he never got bitter. He was not perfect, but really try to live 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. His life was love.

I wish I was more like that. Unfortunately, I am much less patient and understanding.

But I'm sure going to try.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

4 Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up;5 does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; 6 does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; 7 bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

8 Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away.

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