Altzheimer’s | Blog

Photo Credit: Calvin & Hobbs from the blog of Kenneth Reeds

“As to my children, you are now to be left fatherless, which I hope will be an inducement to you all to seek a Father who will never fail you.” – Jonathan Edwards, his last words to his children, as he lay dying

Fathering, like mothering, is not an easy job. So much dying to self. So much responsibility. What a delight for us when the men in our lives take fathering on their shoulders as they might a sleeping child. Surrendering themselves to the serving of those younger than them. I thank God for men who humble themselves in prayer for their children and who go to work every day to support their families. Working, studying, and life-long learning passed on to their children and others.

These dads are too-often taken for granted in the shadow of fathering that falls short. The absent, neglectful and downright abusive fathers cut wounds so deep that decent fathers are sometimes judged by the same measure. We watch for “the sins of the fathers to be revisited on their children” (Numbers 14:18).

Today, let’s reflect on the good fathers. Those who were present at our births, or those who came later in life to us, or those who father us out of their own great hearts. Imperfect, sure. All of us are. Yet, there are those men who go many more than second miles for us, and we are grateful.This dad who took his family to Cairo, Egypt. Our children have had such rich lives as they saw their dad work and relate way out of his comfort zone. What great memories and relationships we have because of his willingness to take us on such a journey.

“My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O,
And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O;
He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne’er a farthing, O;
For without an honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O.”

– Robert Burns, ‘My Father Was a Farmer: A Ballad’*

My Dad. Not my biological father (who I talk about here) but the only dad I’ve ever known. So thankful for him…and his love…and joy in life (even in this season of Alzheimer’s).

“Sundays too my father got up early and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold, then with cracked hands that ached from labor in the weekday weather made banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking. When the rooms were warm, he’d call, and slowly I would rise and dress, fearing the chronic angers of that house, Speaking indifferently to him, who had driven out the cold and polished my good shoes as well. What did I know, what did I know of love’s austere and lonely offices?” – Robert Hayden, ‘Those Winter Sundays’*

My sweet dad- and mom-in-love. What an amazing thing to enjoy the love of people who didn’t have to love me, just because their son did. I thank God for this dad and this mom who opened their hearts to receive a daughter, as if I was born to them.

Those fathers who treat us as sons and daughters – gracious, generous, affirming, empowering. Fathers (and mothers, these Godly wives) whose faces reflect the face of God to us.

Grateful for these fathers…and others like them. Young and old. Fathers who give us a glimpse of the Father of all creation, who loves us…and sees us…and waits for us…and knows us by name.**

Hoping you have fathers to reflect on joyfully today…if not so much, hoping you can take joy and comfort in the Father who loves you perfectly.