My
father taught me, “Take my words to heart.
Follow my commands, and you will live. Get wisdom; develop good
judgment. Don’t forget my words or turn away from them. Don’t turn your back on
wisdom, for she will protect you. Love her, and she will guard you. Getting
wisdom is the wisest thing you can do!” Proverbs 4:4-7a NLT
I’ve learned in almost 50
years on this earth very few wise men exist. I’m fortunate God gave me one
of them—my father. In fact, he's the wisest man I know.
Papa finds joy in life through his
work, nature, and daily interactions with people. It’s not unusual to find him
in the local convenience store with his Pepsi and pack of peanuts chatting with
the clerks or regular customers coming in and out. He’s enlightened more than a
few folks that putting the peanuts in the Pepsi and consuming them together is
the way to go. J
Animals rank near the top of his
joy list. My father loves animals. One of his favorites: the donkey. Perhaps this
is because they’re kindred spirits. J
They’re stubborn and strong animals who persevere despite their circumstances.
He’s owned them for decades. The mama donkey who’d been with him the longest
died over the weekend after becoming toxic while pregnant. While I listened to
my dad’s account of her death, his sadness and regret shone through. But his
wisdom and acceptance of life’s tough times reflected the character he’s always
displayed.
I’m more than blessed to have
Christian parents who instilled solid life principles in me. But my conversation
with my dad made me stop and consider a few qualities that make him so wise.
My
father is wise because he not only showed his children love, he taught us love.
Love is more than affection. In
fact, it’s often confused with affection. Love is reflected in your everyday interactions
with others. My father owned a cleaning company when we were growing up, which eventually
evolved into a very successful landscaping company. All of us kids worked for
him during our childhood. Back in the day, with nine people in our family,
money was tight. We often collected glass coke bottles to turn in for 5 cents
each to pay for a coke or treat at the store when we didn’t have an extra
quarter to spare. Yet my dad never turned away a needy person. No matter how
little money we had, or how far we needed to stretch it, he always had loose
change or a dollar bill in his pocket to give the homeless people who crossed
our paths. Working in a university town, this was a common occurrence. My dad
had experienced homelessness and hunger in his life. He wouldn’t have been able
to come to the dinner table to eat what little we had, if he’d walked past others
who didn’t have a table or food to eat.
My
father wisely showed his love by not making his kids the center of his
universe or putting us first.
No, you didn’t misread that.
To everyone’s detriment, one of the
biggest lies of modern culture is children should be made to feel they’re more
important than anything else. We’re paying for it with a generation of
narcissistic kids who are surprised and angry when a desire goes unfulfilled or
they’re not the center of the universe as an adult. Or heaven forbid, when someone else's needs may come before their own.
Good parents make their children feel
special, unique, and loved. But to instill the idea that one is
special, and in fact, more special than anyone or anything else, isn’t good. My
dad never attended any of my piano recitals during the six years I took lessons.
As a teen, I resented him for that, but as an adult, I appreciate that his hard
work ensured our needs were met and provided extras like piano lessons. This meant,
as a self-employed businessman, work came first. In doing so, he showed me love
by providing something that brought me joy. I discovered in my mid-20s that my
dad loves music as much as I do when he bought a fiddle and started taking
lessons. I realized his dreams had always come second to ours.
My
father is wise because he not only taught us about life, he taught us about
death.
Papa isn’t afraid of death and
didn’t want us to be. After all, death is an inevitable part of life. When an
animal died on our small farm, we all pitched in and buried it. Yes, tears flowed,
but we learned life is temporary on this earth.
I remember the first time my
daughter Lindsay attended a funeral with us. I struggled with whether to expose
her to such a harsh reality at five years old. My dad settled it when he grabbed
her little hand and walked right up to the open casket. He didn’t think
anything of it. Doing so was natural.
Back in the day, when a relative
died, the open casket stayed in the home and relatives sat with the deceased
until the casket was removed for the funeral. Nowadays, parents shield their
children (and sometimes themselves) from open casket funerals or viewings—and
sometimes any kind of funeral or memorial service. In doing so, the perception
of death becomes skewed. Often the first experience with death or a funeral is
that of a close loved one or friend after becoming an adult. Then “Why me?” or
“Why them?” questions ensue.
Shielding a child or ourselves
from death also prevents us from dealing with the fact that we
will all die, and then there is eternity to face. What will that look
like for each individual? For some folks, it’s easier to live in denial.
And this brings me to the most
important lesson Papa ever taught me about death.
For a Christian, death isn’t the
final act but a transition into an eternal life better than our earthly life (Revelation 21:1-4, 22:1-5). Maybe that’s why I don’t fear death (1 Corinthians 15:55-58).
These are only a few of the
reasons my father is a wise man. At almost 80 years old, he can be cantankerous
and hard-headed at times, but I’ve often thought the only man more perfect than
Papa is Christ himself. I thank God every day for the grace and love He showed
me by giving me such a wonderful, loving father.
If you would like prayer for a particular need, please
leave a comment or e-mail me confidential requests. I’d love to pray for you. J
I’m excited to announce the launch of my quarterly
newsletter, “So You Want To Be
Encouraged!” next week. In the inaugural edition, I’ll share my exciting
publishing news and give away one copy of master wreath maker Nancy Alexander’s
“Deck The Halls: How to Make A Christmas
Wreath” Kindle book, just in time for the holidays. To be eligible for the
drawing to win her book, you simply have to be a newsletter subscriber. The
subscription box is at the top right-hand side of this blog. Hurry and sign up
so you don’t miss the first issue and your chance to win Nancy’s book. I’ll
announce the winner in the first newsletter.
God bless,
Laura
©Laura Hodges Poole
