My dad liked to drive. Many times, for work or
pleasure, he would get out on the road and let the miles fly by. I witnessed a
few of these times up close and personal.
One of these was early in my 10th grade
year. I was soon to be confirmed. My
brother and I went to Spokane, Washington with two other friends and attended a
Luther League Convention. It was fun to be away from home in Tacoma and experience
a downtown Spokane hotel. The Ridpath was an old classic. On the final night of
the weekend there was to be a communion service, but as I had not yet been
confirmed, I would not be participating. My Dad, who was also our pastor, was
with us, and he anticipated this problem.
After supper, as the others were getting ready for the
evening, he said to me, “Let’s jump in the car and take a spin over to Coeur d’
Alene.” Off we went. He was a man of
action. Soon we were in an Idaho café for a late night dessert. We were back in
plenty of time for a full night’s rest.
Had I remained in Spokane I probably would have sat
in my hotel room alone, or passively attended the evening service, feeling a
bit left out. Dad was thinking ahead. We
had a special evening together.
Another time I was on my way home after finishing my
first year at an out-of-state college. Hitch-hiking from Northfield, Minnesota
to Tacoma, Washington makes for a long trip. Two days into the journey had
gotten me to Billings. The third morning a ringing phone ringing jolted me
awake. It was 6 a.m. and my dad was on
the line. “Hi Dad, where are you anyway?”
I asked with surprise. “I’m right here
in Billings. Where are you?” he said. He
knew my itinerary and had probably driven straight through for 700 miles to
time things just right. He enjoyed surprising people at times.
Although I was trying to prove I could do the whole trip
on my own, secretly I was glad he had come. As we drove across western Montana,
the Idaho panhandle, and eastern Washington, it was nonstop talk. Nine months to catch up on. The main and
memorable exception to all our visiting was a quick dip in the icy and refreshing
river just west of Missoula.
Dads have a lot of pressures. We don’t always succeed in our special
calling. I want to encourage dads – and moms.
There are many different personalities and styles of parenting. But whoever you are, and whatever your family
stories are like, I pray that your Heavenly
Father would shower his blessings on you so that you know that you are
important. You are worth a lot. We are tempted
to be too busy for the “special”, that “unusual” break from routine. However, these can be more than worth the
effort.
