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About Sara McKeefer

I am a dreamer and a realist, a fan of all creatures great and small (except spiders), an optimist, a mother and grandmother, and a Christ-follower. I am a believer in the value of predictability, as my father, who farmed from the time he was a young boy until he passed away at 70 years old, was. Most influenced by his gentle ways and love for the land, I am an advocate of family-run farms, including respectful stewardship of the land and compassionate care of farm animals. The loves of my life are my son, my two daughters and their husbands, my three grandsons, the changing seasons, and the early morning stillness as I listen to the Voice within.

The Prayer Posse…

A note from a friend who I and eight other women across the country have been praying for came the other day on the heels of my asking God for ‘blind’ faith, which is the kind of faith that doesn’t look at circumstances but is totally focused on what God already has said.

It’s blinders on a horse that I see in my mind’s eye when I think of blind faith, probably because we share the road with a lot of horse and buggies in our part of Northern Indiana. Blinders serve a purpose. They keep the horse focused on the road ahead and prevent him from being spooked by what’s happening on each side of him. Blinders also make it easier for the horse to get to the destination, because all he has to do is (1) focus on the road ahead and (2) respond correctly to the driver’s voice and reins.

Blind faith is like that. It looks neither to the left or right and is not sidetracked by negative reports or feelings. Neither is it diminished by preconceived notions or perceived danger, but is a faith based wholly upon God’s Word. In fact, blind faith takes God at His word about asking and receiving.

  • “God is not human, that he should lie, not a human being, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?” Numbers 23:19
  • “Again I say to you, that if two of you agree on earth about anything that they may ask, it shall be done for them by My Father who is in heaven. For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst.”  Matthew 18:19-20
  • “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” Matthew 7:7-12

For quite a few years now, I’ve been a part of a small group of women in various states with whom I share prayer concerns and who share their prayer concerns with me. We know that until there is an answer, we will be faithful to intercede on behalf of that person. Awhile ago I was about to send a prayer request out to the group, and the Lord brought to my mind that we are like a posse–a prayer posse, if you will, who joins together to rescue the good guys from the bad guy with our intercession.

When a prayer need is made known, I email or private message the others; and just as it was in the Wild West when people came together to respond to a crisis, we agree together to pray for that person’s need. Like the sheriff of old who oversaw the efforts of the posse, the Holy Spirit provides us with the guidance we need as we pray.

I know that sounds pretty simplistic, but isn’t that what we do when we intercede for people? Incidentally, I shared that with the posse, and one of them has already formed another prayer posse. Isn’t it just like God to plant an idea and then duplicate it to bring healing and encouragement to people?

Just think for a moment what would happen if everyone who reads this were to reach out to fellow sisters and brothers in Christ for the express purpose of praying in agreement. It could be for one another or for people they’ve never met–people who, just like them, know they need something… but may not know the Someone who’s in the prayer-answering business.

Christ-followers get their prayer instructions from Jesus, as recorded in Matthew 6:6. The New King James Version puts it like this: “But you, when you pray, go into your room, and when you have shut your door, pray to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.”

I really like that passage in The Message: “Here’s what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense his grace.” That says a lot, doesn’t it?

I have found that for me the most powerful intercession occurs when I am in agreement with women who are committed to praying individually and separately for a particular person or situation. That kind of prayer does not have the distractions that comes when others are present; and it is no less powerful either, because everyone is in agreement.

Perhaps the greatest blessing of praying in secret is that you come “to sense His grace”–God’s unmerited favor–in your life. There is no other way to explain what happens when we go to Him alone in prayer, other than we know we have been in His Presence, the wonder of which often lingers throughout our day.

The coolest tool in the toolbox to assemble a prayer posse is the Internet, because you can email/private message prayer needs/answers with no delay to wherever in the world members of your posse live. It’s not even necessary that everyone knows each other, since one person is the message relay person.

I think the reason Jesus tells us to pray in secret is because, first, He knows how prideful we can be, and second, He knows how insecure we can be. Think about it. Usually in any group, large or small, there will be one or two dominant people, who just naturally talk the most; and there will be those who are there but never say a word. It’s no different in prayer groups.

Have you ever been in a small group situation with a person who is first out of the gate 95 percent of the time when a prayer need is mentioned? The well-meaning person generally prays at length, as in really long prayers, leaving everyone literally prayer-less as he/she finally hits the homestretch and finishes up. It may seem humorous afterwards but it’s irritating as it happens. I’m pretty sure that if God only needed one person to do all the praying, no one else would have shown up.

Now, back to my friend. I received a private message from her that the prayers that we had stood together with her in faith, believing, were answered! As I read her words of praise to God and ‘heard’ her joy, I felt like dancing!!!

I’d like to encourage you to ask God for blind faith, built on these words, “Hath God not said?”! You have no idea the difference it will make in your prayer life. And, if you feel the tug of God on your heart about forming your own prayer posse, there’s no telling the difference it will make in a whole lot of lives!

Happy prayers to you!  (Remind you of anyone?)

Just a bit of encouragement…

Sometimes you just need to laugh. Like me. Right now. After responsibly warming up the car for 15 minutes since its 17° out, I pulled carefully out onto our icy road and proceeded approximately 1/6 of a mile toward town before the car just up and quit! Pfffftt! Just like that, no power! SOoooo, my son canceled his appointment. I canceled my appointment, and we waited for my wonderful almost-son, who is married to my wonderful daughter and the father of my three wonderful grandsons, to rescue me, which he did by towing us back home and then offering me some words of encouragement, which, by that time, I direly needed. The tow guy will be here in a bit to take my poor car to my mechanic, who hopefully will find nothing major wrong with it other than maybe the fuel filter. And, if I’m lucky, I’ll get it back before I need to be in Goshen tomorrow afternoon.

Now, before you suggest it, YES, I could get a new car, but I have no plans to until this one dies, and I’m pretty sure that won’t be for awhile since my car only has 60,000 miles on it. I KNOW it’s 15 years old, but my cherry red Crown Victoria has sentimental value. You see, it was my mom’s car that she drove until she was 98. She bought it when she was 96 when she got a flat tire on her three-year-old car and my uncle jokingly told her it was time to trade it in! So, she did, and I’ve been benefiting from Mother’s purchase ever since she passed away at 102.

Let me tell you, that Crown Vic rides like a limo! Besides, it gets a respectable 22 miles to the gallon, which is a lot more than those gas-guzzling SUVs get! I have noticed that my car seems to be getting longer, but then I realized it only seems that way because cars are shrinking by the year! Pity. If they keep it up, they’ll be the same size as my riding lawn mower, but I digress.

In a nutshell, I am thankful, not that the car is out of commission but because I’m not! I can look out on this blue Indiana sky that does not have even one cloud on the horizon and thank God that I have a car that needs fixing, let alone a wonderful family, friends who laugh and cry with me, a church home that never ceases to amaze and inspire me, a warm home, pets that irritate the stew out of me one minute and climb in my lap the next, and just way too many blessings to even count!

I guess my message to all of you is hang in there, and while you’re hanging in there, be thankful for what you do have and encourage someone else to do the same. Wow, that’s pretty cool…you can pay it forward without a cent in your pocket! There’s something else I’d like to say, and this is it–if you need help, ASK! I might still be sitting smack dab in the middle of the road if I had not asked for help. Don’t let pride stand in the way of not only your blessing but the person who will be blessed for helping you. Got it?

Three fathers…

If I could, I would weep tears of loss
for the father I never knew.
Did he have a gentle heart,
the one who waited there that day
when I was whisked away to somewhere else?
Bereft by unexpressed love,
he asked her a simple question
as she waited to take me home.
“What is your name?” he said,
and heard the name his child would have.
He followed the rules that kept me a stranger,
but there are no written rules anymore,
just hindrances to my knowing
what he felt that day
when the child of his heart
became someone else’s property
because of the recklessness of youth.
I will know someday the man who watched me go
from that stark place, where lives begin and end,
into the weathered hands of another
who would love me as he longed to.
Now, three men await my going home–
the one who gave me life,
the one who gave me joy,
and the One who gave me peace.

A cookie sort of Christmas

I wish Christmas gifts were defined as ‘cookies of any shape, size and flavor’ to include:

  • Grandma Powell’s iced honey cookies
  • Darin’s oatmeal chocolate chip
  • Ruth’s lemon bars
  •  Jacquie’s shortbread
  • Mary Catherine’s butterscotch bars
  • My own buttery sugar cookies
  • Vera’s banana raisin oatmeal
  • Mother’s refrigerator cookies

One bite and I would be there, watching:

  • Grandma rolling the dough and me cutting the rectangles in her tiny kitchen
  • My son making the dough into balls and giving me one with a smile
  • Ruth opening her cookie containers in the church foyer
  • Me diligently watching Jacquie’s cookies so they don’t brown
  • Mary Catherine passing the plate laden with scrumptiousness
  • Cookies cooling just enough to enjoy a warm one with a glass of milk
  • Carolann stirring up Vera’s recipe and sneaking me a spoonful
  • Mother wrapping cookies in wax paper for me to take to Daddy in the field

Yes, cookies would be quite enough for me for Christmas.

 

 

 

 

 

I am…

I am a white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant, raised in a Quaker family where I heard the merits of the love, joy, and peace of Jesus every Sunday and most Wednesdays for the first 18 years of my life.

I am peace-loving, inclusive, thoughtful because of the gentle people who influenced my life the most. I do not see the world in black and white but in the myriad of colors of those around the world I pray for–the children, mainly, for once I was lost but now I am found.

I am wise to the deceptions of this world, for I have seen them up close and personal in valleys where I came to know the One who loves me like no other. The naivete of childhood was never a luxury I enjoyed because of battles fought to find the child I really was.

I expect from no one but God, because I learned early that He is the one who will never fail me or leave me like the orphan I once was in a storm of others’ making. I am a child of my Father, whose sons and daughters are my brothers and sisters for whom I pray.

I am unapologetically me, unabashedly His, and unqualifiedly a champion of all that is right and good in this world. I am spiritual, comical, political, thankful, and careful, because once a long time ago someone saw me as salvageable.

I can be long-winded at times, but I am a good listener. I want to talk sense into those who do the same destructive things to themselves over and over again, all the while knowing the outcome will be no different than it was the first time.

I believe that God has the ability to change the lives of those who choose to believe in Him, and I believe that God will protect the right of those who choose not to believe in Him. I believe that I am proof that God is no respecter of persons and can change anyone.

Finals are coming!

This morning I dropped my Promise Book, and when I reached down to pick it up and looked at the page it was open to, my eyes fell on the very same scripture I had just read in Devotions for Morning and Evening with Oswald Chambers. 24 “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25 The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.” Matthew 7:24-25

“‘Build up your character bit by bit,’ says Jesus. Then when the supreme crisis comes, you will stand like a rock,” Chambers writes. “The crisis does not come always, but when it does, it is all up in about two seconds, there is no possibility of pretense, you are unearthed immediately.”

Has that been your experience? Everything seems to be going along fine, and then suddenly your feet are knocked out from under you, and you can’t even pretend everything is fine, because it’s not? It might be a terminal diagnosis, an unfaithful spouse, a debilitating illness, the loss of a loved one, financial problems, rejection, an unhealthy habit, betrayal by a trusted friend–and all with one thing in common. It has the potential to take you down so low to a place where even denial is no longer possible and the only choices left are to give up or stand up.

Chambers offers the solution. “If a man has built himself up in private by listening to the words of Jesus and obeying them, when the crisis comes, it is not his strength of will that keeps him but the tremendous power of God. Go on building yourself up in the word of God when no one is watching you, and when the crisis comes, you will find you will stand like a rock; but if you have not been building yourself up on the word of God, you will go down, no matter how strong your will.”

I have seen this happen again and again–even by people who have gone to church all of their lives. It happened to my mother when my dad died. Dad had steadily declined for a year after having been diagnosed with cancer, but when he died, my mother’s world fell apart. She was in a cloud for months, as she struggled to come to grips with the fact that he really was gone. It was sobering to see my usually strong-willed, confident mother smothered by her grief; and had it not been for the resolute faith and constant encouragement of my grandmother–who lived, ate and breathed the Holy Bible–my mother might never have come out of it.

Chambers ends with, “All you build will end in disaster unless it is built on the sayings of Jesus Christ; but if you are doing what Jesus told you to do, nourishing your soul on His word, you need not fear the crisis, whatever it is.”

I think it must sadden Christ when someone who professes to know Him is overwhelmed time and time again by the uncertainties of life, sometimes even choosing to wallow in their misery. Do you know people like that? Adults in body but still little children in their spiritual walk, angry at God one minute, full of self-pity the next? The good news is it’s never too late to grow up.

It took the death of my father for my mother to learn that she wasn’t alone, that God really was there with her. In her later years, Mother told us many times that as her feet hit the floor each morning, she would say, “This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.” As she became more frail, life became increasingly more precious to her. When we laid her earthly body to rest, I quoted Mother’s favorite scripture, which had sustained her for 102 years, “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.Isaiah 40:31

I thank God for his Word a lot, because it was His Word in me that was there with me when my grandmother had a cerebral hemorrhage, when my child was fighting for her life, when my son was diagnosed with autism, when my husband left, when the three people I was closest to died within three years, when my doctor said I had lost the battle, and countless other times when, frankly, I didn’t think I could go on living.

What got me through was, pure and simple, the Word I had hidden in my heart from the time I was old enough to understand Sunday school songs like “Jesus Loves Me” and stories from the Bible about people who triumphed because of their faith. It was the Word of God that led me to Christ when I was six and heard the evangelist say that no one is born into the family of God, but all are adopted into His family, everyone is equal, and no one is better than anyone else.

So many times I hear people ask, “Why am I going through this? Why is this happening to me?” All I can say is, “I don’t know but God does, and, believe me, you can trust Him.”

Perhaps you’ve been knocked off your spiritual feet or maybe you’re just dealing with ordinary challenges like everyone faces. In any case, you have two choices: you can feel sorry for yourself, and maybe even throw a pity party to which no one really wants to come; or you can come out of denial, brush yourself off, and find out what God’s Word says about your situation.

The Gospel of John begins with these words, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. Through Him all things were made; without Him, nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Did you hear that? The light of God in us cannot be overcome by darkness. God’s Word shines in the darkness. It really is true what Psalm 119:105 says: Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. I don’t know about you, but I gave up wandering around trying to find my own way a long time ago. It just wasn’t worth the pain of all that bumping into obstacles in the dark.

When I was at Manchester College, I lived on 3rd east, Oakwood Hall, my freshman year. At that time, Oakwood was a rambling wood structure with L-shaped halls on each side and attics at the ends where we stored suitcases and other bulky items. I hadn’t been there very long before bruises started appearing on my legs. It was a mystery until I told my roommate that I was a sleepwalker. A few nights later, Shar heard me stirring and followed me down the hall to the attic, which I entered and started to walk through, as if I were looking for something, all the while bumping into all the obstacles in the dark.

It’s interesting that I knew while asleep how to open the door but neglected to turn on the light. I think that’s how it is when we accept Christ but don’t grow in our relationship with Him. We open the door to Christ, but then continue to wander around in the darkness only to emerge bruised and sometimes broken.

The night Shar followed me to the attic, she didn’t turn on the light and she didn’t awaken me. She was a psychology major, after all! She just turned me around and gently led me back to our room. That wasn’t the last night I slept-walked, but it was the final time I hurt myself doing so, because locks were installed on the attic doors the next day.

Do you know someone who has been wandering around in the dark without the Light of God to illuminate hidden dangers? Is it you? Have you been in a situation so intense that you’ve asked in desperation, “Where is God in all this?” Would you describe your walk with God as ‘a lot of stops and starts’? Do you find the Holy-Spirit-will-guide-you concept a little out there, choosing instead to wing it?

Chambers was right in his assertion that “the crisis does not come always, but when it does, it is all up in about two seconds, there is no possibility of pretense, you are unearthed immediately.” And he also was correct when he said that if you build up your character a little at a time, when the big crisis comes, you will remain standing.

There is no way to do that other than by doing the coursework–reading the Bible–and the best way to do that is little-by-little, with time to think about what you have read and apply it to your life. A crash course may get you a grade, but you will retain little of what you read; and never cracking the Book and cramming for the final exam is equally ineffective.

The fact that John said “and the Word was God” has been largely overlooked. In verse 14, we see that the Word isn’t an idea or even a book but a Person. “14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

Why anyone who professes to know Christ, particularly those who need constant remediation, would not read the textbook of the only course with eternal consequences is beyond my understanding. So, today I want to encourage you to open your eyes, rise up, and do your homework. Finals are coming!

The sun spills through bare branches, streaking its way across the corn stalks, alighting in the grove of trees, illuminating what lies hidden in summer–trunks reaching heavenward, shining in simplicity this clear morning, a silent reminder that He is the vine–beautiful, steadfast and true, and we are the branches, destined to bear fruit as long as we remain in Him.

Father, this day, as surely as the sun shines, illuminate my mind and heart, and guide me by your Spirit. Amen

Growing up…

God expects His children to be so confident in Him that in a crisis they are the ones upon whom He can rely. ~ Oswald Chambers

For approximately 25 years, I’ve been reading the same book almost every morning. More than anything, it has been responsible for my growing up in the reverential awe and admonition of the Lord. That last part is a mouthful, but that’s what growing up in the ‘fear of the Lord’ means. The book is Morning & Evening Devotions with Oswald Chambers, which comprises two books, My Utmost for His Highest and Daily Thoughts for Disciples.

I was one of those kids who loved Jesus from an early age. My favorite song as soon as I learned it, probably at four years old, was ‘Jesus Loves Me,’ and somehow even at such a tender age, I began to believe it. So it was only natural that I would respond to an altar call at our church when I was six. From that time on, I came to understand more and more about how Jesus loved me, mainly from my Sunday school teachers.

My family went to church every time the doors were open, but, until I was 12 and received my own Bible, no one read the Scriptures in my home except on Christmas Eve. That’s not an indictment, just a fact. Mother’s Bible was precious to her, so it was kept on a shelf in the living room unless she had to prepare devotions for a club meeting or if it was Christmas Eve.

However, that was not the case at the home of my grandmother, who read the Bible every day and often would read it to me when I was at her house. I faced some harsh realities as a child, but because of my relationship with Jesus Christ, those hardships only drew me closer to Him. And, in the process, though I was still a child, I began to grow in my understanding of God–and in my faith in Him.

Please know, I am not saying my childhood was dreadful. It wasn’t. I grew up on a farm with an older brother and sister, and a dad who was an encourager and advocate, so there were times of laughter and fun as we explored woods, creek and barns with the freedom few kids enjoy nowadays. There were, however, big challenges of discrimination because we were adopted–even from those who were supposed to love us–as well as harsh discipline by a mother who had been raised with the ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ mentality. Couple that with her fear that we three kids might somehow disgrace her by what others might judge as merely childish behavior, and unreasonable discipline was bound to become the norm at our house.

My life as a kid growing up in the 50s and graduating in the early 60s was pretty normal for a kid raised on a farm in Indiana. Field trips and concert band in the fall, pep band and basketball games in the winter, band contests and track in the spring, and instrumental lessons in the summer, along with Bible School and church camp, swimming at Matter Park, day trips to places like Lake Maxinkuckee and Mounds State Park, and frequent Sunday afternoon picnics at Francis Slocum. Around home, there were always chores to do–chickens to feed or butcher, eggs to gather and clean, gardens to weed, produce to can, and 4-H projects to work on–all before we could go fishing, climb trees or read.

Although we were maturing physically, in many ways we weren’t really growing up, mainly because of my mother’s fear of letting us make our own decisions, and, likewise, learn from the consequences of our choices. I was married at 19, because that’s what most girls did, continued with college, and had my first child at 23. However, it wasn’t until I began to face the experiences of my childhood in the Light of God’s Word that I even began to grow up emotionally and spiritually.

In Genesis 22:2, God’s promise to give Abraham a son has been fulfilled, but God tests Abraham: “And He said, Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and get you into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering on one of the mountains which I will tell you of.”

God’s command (to Abraham) is,“Take now,” not later, Chambers writes. It is incredible how we debate! We know something is right, but we try to find excuses for not doing it immediately. If we are to climb to the height God reveals, it can never be done later—it must be done now. And the sacrifice must be worked through our will before we actually perform it.

“So Abraham rose early in the morning…and went to the place of which God had told him” (Genesis 22:3). Oh, the wonderful simplicity of Abraham! When God spoke, he did not “confer with flesh and blood” (Galatians 1:16). Beware when you want to “confer with flesh and blood” or even your own thoughts, insights, or understandings—anything that is not based on your personal relationship with God. These are all things that compete with and hinder obedience to God.

Please listen carefully. There are some of you who are right where Abraham was. You know what you should do, but you’re trying to find excuses for not doing it immediately; and all that stands in the way of you obeying God is your will. You can think and think and think about what you know you ought to do, and you can talk and talk and talk it over with others, but just know that all of your thinking and talking puts the focus on what you want and not on what God wants.

Remember the story of Jesus sleeping in the boat as the storm rages? Even though Jesus said they were going to the other side of the lake, when the storm came up, fear rose up in the disciples, and they woke up Jesus. Listen to this from Chambers’ Daily Thoughts for Disciples:

When we are in fear, we can do nothing less than pray to God, but our Lord has the right to expect of those who name His Name and have His nature in them, to have an understanding confidence in Him. Instead of that, when we are at our wits’ end, we go back to the elementary prayers of those who do not know Him and prove that we have not the slightest atom of confidence in Him and His governing of the world. He is asleep–the tiller is not in His hand, and  we sit down in nervous dread. God expects His children to be so confident in Him that in a crisis they are the ones upon whom He can rely.

1 Corinthians 13:11 says, When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things.…”

What childish things are you refusing to abandon? Are you taking responsibility for your choices? Are you insisting on your will, or do you want His will?

You can hold tight in your fist what you want, but just know this: If you hold onto what you want, ignoring what He wants, yet praying for His will to be done, God will pry open your hand and remove it from you–and with a whole lot more pain and trauma than if you just willingly open your hand and surrender to His will.

Prayerfully…  Sara

In the stillness…

In the stillness of this autumn morning, a single leaf falls,
let loose from the mooring that birthed it, gave it life.
In abandon, it falls to take its place on the carpet below,
no longer one alone but one of a myriad, its identity seemingly lost.
But it is not lost.
It is seen by the gaze of the Creator-God Who knows even now
if it will be gathered to burn in the pungent fire
or find its place on the fertile soil of tomorrow’s garden.

Sara McKeefer, October 16, 2014

Looking for my dad…

I had my dad for such a short time, just 24 years. He was 47 when I was born. Dad used to tell me that from the first day they brought me home, I was looking for him, which I cannot help but think was God’s doing. No matter how busy he was, my presence was always acknowledged and welcomed with a smile and most times with a sing-song “Do-Daddy, Do-Daddy, Do” in response to my “Whatcha’ doin’, Daddy?”.

In the middle of whatever he was doing when I found him–combining wheat, filling his grease gun, writing out seed tags, talking to a neighbor, or just leaning on a fence looking at a field of soybeans, he brought me into focus, welcoming me with a smile into the ordinary moments of his day.

I followed him around closer than his shadow, always content just to be with him. I loved sitting beside him in the big truck on trips to the feed mill or the gravel pit, and he never refused me once when I wanted to step up on his big work shoes to hang on while he ‘walked’ me to the house. We shared afternoon snacks of refrigerator cookies and ice cold water on the tractor; and before church, as we waited for Mother to finish getting ready, we read the funnies together, him in his chair and me stretched out on his lanky frame, the Sunday paper like a tent over us while we chuckled at Dagwood, Beetle Bailey and Little LuLu.

My dad was a man of few words. I was not, but never once did he tell me to be quiet. And even though he was usually doing something else when I was with him, I always knew he was listening. I began my days with him at the kitchen table and ended them by kissing his weathered cheek goodnight.

If he were here today, there would be chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream, and he would say he needed help blowing the candles out because there were so many! He would open our presents of homemade bookmarks, measuring sticks, unevenly hemmed handkerchiefs, and pictures colored just for him, lingering over every one, turning them into treasured possessions to be tucked away and found years later when he was gone.

My dad never talked about love but taught us by example. From him I learned that love is always patient and kind, doesn’t envy what others have, and never brags about what we have, that it isn’t prideful, rude or self-seeking, and that it isn’t easily angered and never holds grudges.

I grew up knowing that there was nothing I could ever do that would cause my dad to stop loving me. That was the greatest gift he gave me, because it made it easy for me to believe in a God who loves unconditionally and forever.

I still look for my dad in the corridors of my mind where memories come alive and are savored once more. But someday, and someday soon, I will look for him and he will be there where I never have to say good-bye again.