A Good Father

Reading the Bible Together

Dad and I sat at the dining room table as the warm smells of Mom’s meatloaf wafted in from the kitchen.

“Would you like me to read the Bible to you?” I asked.

Dad agreed and asked for his “favorite Bible verses”: Romans 8:26–27 (NLT).

I gazed at his gaunt face with mild surprise. Months of chemotherapy had stolen his strength. I hadn’t known about this comfort he leaned on from God.

I began to read, “And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness . . . we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us…”

We talked gently about those words. Leukemia had made it so hard to know what to pray for. Just a few short months later, God took Dad to heaven. Today, I’ve spent more years of my life without him than with him.

Remembering My Father

The cover photo of Dad holding me as a child is deeply meaningful because his love for me is so evident.

My siblings and I knew Mom and Dad loved us. We have fond memories of family traditions, summer trips, and paddling in a canoe Dad built. Every summer vacation, we piled in the car to camp in National Parks all over the country.

My dad could build or repair anything—from a two-car garage to a dent in the back of our car. Above all, he was a quiet man of integrity with a subtle humor. He never swore or acted violently. During college, I took a photo of him in that same dining room, with light streaming in through our large windows. When I look at it, I see his unchanging love for me on his face.

Finding Our Heavenly Father
I knew about God for years through our family’s involvement in church. In college, new friends explained to me that I could know God personally. One morning, I decided to stop resisting His call on my heart. I pulled my Bible out of a suitcase in my closet and started reading. I began to recognize my eternal Father’s presence, gentle nudges, and humor guiding my path because my dad had modeled what a good father looks like.

When Mike and I were considering marriage, God answered my prayer that Mike would ask my dad for permission to marry. God arranged that day beautifully. Exactly one month later, God brought Dad home to Himself.

At the Grave
Six months later we were married. Mike and I visited Dad’s grave at the top of a wooded ravine. As we placed our wedding bouquet in the vase by his headstone, a beam of sunlight broke through the clouds to spotlight the flowers. I am sure God was telling us that Dad knew about our wedding and was pleased.

Knowing God
You can know God intimately, too. Let Him be your light on dark paths and the One who speaks directly to your heart.

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