As you know, this past Sunday was Father’s Day. My family and I enjoyed a wonderful time with our missional community in worship of our Lord, entering into a great dialogue about following Jesus into the dark places and serving humanity by taking care of the welfare of our cities, and praying for each other. We then chowed down on some great food and enjoyed each other’s presence. After that we visited with our dear friend Margaret Sides and soaked in her tender grace. Then we visited with Josh and Lacie, which always brings joy to my soul. I love them more than they’ll know.
Well, the rest of Sunday afternoon was peaceful around the house. I spent the time thinking on the way the Lord has shaped and changed me over the last three decades. I reflected on my boys and asking the Lord to show me if I’ve done well as a father and mentor to them. The time led to my considering the things my dad taught me and how my life was shaped and changed by his decisions, good and bad. It was a very somber Sunday reflecting on my life while pushing away depression, heartache and anger. My dad passed away more than nine months ago, yet I miss him more than I expected. My days since Father’s Day have been spent in prayer as I seek solace from the Spirit and try to reconcile some of the unhealthy feelings I had toward my dad.
This morning I got a message from a friend asking if I was okay after the Spurs loss in game six. He was trying to pick on me. It was a fun back and forth banter, but deep inside I was ready to explode. No, not because the Spurs lost. Rather, because of the building emotions from not having my dad call on Father’s day, and after each game. See, my dad knew very little about basketball, but he loved his Spurs like he loved his Cowboys. When they would make the playoffs he would give me a quick call after games and ask, “What happened to your Spurs?” (when they lost), or “Did you see my Spurs won?” This year I haven’t really watched many of the playoff games for reasons you can probably figure out.
As I watched the game last night with my son, Aaron, I was all choked up inside because I knew my dad would not be calling to ask what happened. I also realized that the time would come when I will be calling my sons about our Spurs and Longhorns. When it’s all said and done these games are really not about wins and losses, but really about having a reason for staying connected to the people I hold dear to my heart, my sons. I just want my boys to know I love them with all my heart and am very, very proud of them.
As for last night, I wanted the Spurs to finish the series and win the championship because I wanted the pain of this cup to pass from me. Still, there will be a game seven. What NBA fan doesn’t like that? It makes for good basketball drama. I will likely watch it in honor of my dad and because of our love for the Spurs, but mostly because I love and miss my dad.
grace and peace…gibby