I had a "Giant Cavernous Aneurysm" behind my left eye. I went to Dallas for surgery and it was killed...however post op my eye is unresponsive. It is if I am looking out of a steamy shower door. Some days it is better than others. Please pray that my sight will be restored. God has been putting words on my heart that I feel I must put on paper. The following thoughts are those I feel that the Lord is speaking to me lately. Enjoy.

June 17, 2006

Happy Father's Day, Dad


The coming of another Father’s Day and the passing of another year somehow seems harder…not easier. I miss you Dad.

I long for one more heart to heart talk with you. I would tell you things that I’ve regretted never sharing with you before. I can imagine your “heart to hearts” are now with your Creator…nothing hidden, only your deepest feelings shared openly and always.

I would do anything for you to meet Nathanael Don. He would keep you in stitches, as he does the rest of the family. I wonder what you and Corban’s reunion looked like? Although my boys live their days here without their Grandpa, I take comfort knowing that Corban has his Grandpa with him…taking long walks along a mountain stream or spending your days swinging together.

If I could feel one more bear hug and receive one more kiss on the cheek, I would embrace it and take nothing for granted. I would welcome the coarseness of your unshaven face. When you first met Paul, did you at long last find another brother willing to greet you with a holy kiss? Do you still go up to total strangers and greet them with a kiss? Perhaps in Heaven, there are no strangers.

I would do anything to look into your caring, sky-blue eyes one more time and tell you about our experiences here in Colorado. I can already hear your response, “Aw shoot, son” Are your beautiful blue eyes even more brilliant in Heaven?

I want to hear you say one more time, “Son, I’m proud of you.” Did Jesus meet you as you arrived into Heaven and say, “Well done?”

I often think of my boys crawling up in your big lap and feeling the love of their Grandpa. Your stories from your sawmilling days would have them captivated for hours. I now imagine you as a child crawling up into the arms of your Abba, listening to Him tell you love stories.

I would do anything to hear you call Suzi “Lucy” or call Jocko “Greg.” After your stroke, your sense of humor and willingness to laugh at yourself was contagious. It is finished. You never have to “reach” for a word again, or wonder if you are calling something by its’ real name. Your body is now perfect..and you now dance with the angels.

I sit through many afternoons, watching the mountain rain showers. I imagine you sitting next to me. I even imagine which chair you would sit in. I often pick up my cell phone to call you to describe the brilliance of a rainbow or a sunset over Pike’s Peak, only to remember that you’re no longer there to answer. The feeling in my gut is indescribable. I know that your rainbows and sunsets are far more magnificent than ours, but I miss being able to share ours with you.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. But in Heaven, isn’t every day a “Happy Father’s Day?”

I love you deeply,


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