Being God's People As Servants Of God

(1) Well today is Father’s Day and the sixth anniversary of our first meeting. Time has gone by fast but like I said last week, I am glad to be your pastor and I am grateful for the work of God in our life together. My prayer for us this day is that we continue to experience God’s great and good work in our individual and congregational lives.

Speaking of Father’s Day I would be remiss if I did not note some important things about dads today. As usual, I searched the Internet for some very serious and wise things to say to my fellow fathers. Here are three things that I found, respectively, at twilightbridge.com and lukaroski.com:

It seems that a little girl was sitting in her grandfather’s lap as he read her a goodnight story. From time to time, she would take her eyes off the book and reach up to touch his wrinkled cheek.

By and by she was alternately stroking her own cheek, then his again. Finally she spoke. "Granddaddy, did God make you?" "Yes, sweetheart" he answered, "God made me a long time ago."

"Oh she said," then "Granddaddy, did God make me too?" "Yes, indeed honey" he assured her. "God made you just a little while ago."

"Oh" she said. Feeling their respective faces again, she observed, "God’s getting better at it now isn’t he?"

Sex education is a very important issue in parenting and sometimes dad seems to handle the topic quite well as we read in two different situations, "Daddy, where did I come from?" the seven-year-old son asked. It was a moment for which his father had carefully prepared.

He took him into the living room, got out the encyclopedia and several other books, and explained all they thought he should know about sexual attraction, affection, love, and reproductions. Then, his dad sat back and smiled contentedly.

"Does that answer your question?" his father asked. "Not really," the little boy said. "Michael said he came from Detroit. I want to know where I came from."

Then there is the story of a three-year-old boy [who] went with his father to see a litter of kittens. On returning home, he breathlessly informed his mother that there were two boy kitties and two girl kitties.

"How do you know?" his mother asked.

"Daddy picked them up and looked underneath," he replied, "I think it’s printed on the bottom."

Then, a very important piece of correspondence between a dad and his college son was posted for us to reflect on and consider. However, for us to understand its significance I have put it on the video screen. (2)

The son wrote,

Dear Dad, $chool i$ really great. I am making lot$ of friend$ and $tudying very hard. With all my $tuff, I $imply can’t think of anything I need, $o if you would like, you can ju$t $end me a card, a$ I would love to hear from you. Love, Your $on

To which the father replied, (3) Dear Son,

I kNOw that astroNOmy, ecoNOmics, and oceaNOgraphy are eNOugh to keep even an hoNOr student busy. Do NOt forget that the pursuit of kNOwledge is a NOble task, and you can never study eNOugh. Dad

Finally, there is this wonderful story from the late Erma Bombeck that reminds us just how important dad is to the life of his children. She wrote, “When I was a kid, a father was like the light in a refrigerator. Every house had one, but nobody knew what either of them did once the door was shut.

My dad left the house every morning and always seemed glad to see everyone at night.

He opened the jar of pickles when nobody else could.

He was the only one in the house who wasn’t afraid to go to the basement by himself.

He cut himself shaving, but no one kissed it or got excited about it.

It was understood whenever it rained, he got the car and brought it around to the door.

When anyone was sick, he got the prescription filled.

He set mousetraps, cut back the roses so the thorns wouldn’t clip you when you came to the front door.

When I got a bike, he ran alongside me for at least a thousand miles until I got the hang of it.

I was afraid of everyone else’s father, but not my own. Once I made him tea. It was only sugar water, but he sat on a small chair and said it was delicious.

Whenever I played house, the mother doll had a lot to do. I never knew what to do with the daddy doll, so I had him say, "I’m going off to work now," and threw him under the bed.

When I was nine years old, my father didn’t get up one morning and go to work.