Father's Day

This Father's Day afternoon was spent going through quite a few things that belonged to my late father. Some of that stuff has been sitting in our basement for 2 1/2 years. My husband did not force me to face all those memories before I was ready. I needed time and healing to be able to endure such a task. I was amazed that I could get rid of so much. Almost everything, in fact.

Oh sure, there are some things I won't be giving up, like the cross he wore that was made out of 5 nails to symbolize the 5 wounds of Christ on the cross; or dozens of sermon tapes that I hope to digitize and share with my family; or his library books (many of them, anyway); or the guitar he played when singing us to sleep; or his favorite pair of cowboy boots. Yes, I wanted to keep the cowboy boots. Surely anyone who knew him can understand that.

With the passage of time, the memory of my father is still vivid, and letting "things" go, I now realize, does not threaten those memories. If anything, the burden of mere "stuff" clouds the legacy of the man who is no longer here to use it, but is rather enjoying the treasures he stored up in Heaven. I miss my earthly father every day, but he is in the presence of my Heavenly Father.

And with a hope like that, I have much to be thankful for this Father's Day.