Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God,
the Lord is one. Love
the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your
soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are
to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you
sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you
get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write
them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates. ~ Deuteronomy 6:4-9
(NIV)
“Mom…Just wanna’ let you know…If my grade isn’t that great,
I did try my best…” cautioned my son as he entered the house from the garage.
Arriving from one of his early morning final exams from the nearby college
where he went.
“Yes…I know…” I reassured. Reminding him he shouldn’t worry,
no matter what outcome. He knew his father and I would always understand
because we saw how hard he worked. Each day. Each night. Giving all his best.
I couldn’t believe how fast this school year had gone by. I
could vividly remember the orientation he had and when we, as a family, had
gone to school together to get more familiar with this college. A big step for
our son who marveled at longer distances he had to walk. The bigger buildings
grouped together by each similarity with a particular course a student would
choose.
He sighed…One more final exam to go come Friday. But he said
that would be easy. The hardest was yesterday’s.
I gave him a hug. Growing up and seeing him how good of a
son he was, never giving my husband and I any troubles, we knew, he was a
blessing. As a family, we had a joke. That he should be careful in not getting
into troubles from me, knowing his father would also get in trouble. It was a
joke because my son looked a lot like my husband in so many ways. Not only from
the physical looks but in the ways he dealt with life’s matters.
I remembered those early Saturday mornings when he was
standing on a wooden, dining chair. Leaning over the cast iron skillet warming
up on the stove top as my husband carefully taught him to drop those batter
they made together to make their “special pancakes” as I just got home. Tired
and wanted to go straight to bed from a night shift’s work.
Or those times when he seemed to be excited. Clapping his
tiny hands as he solved each puzzle from an educational game he chose to play
in his computer. Those “burning the midnight oil” as he labored with all of his
subjects in elementary, middle and high school days. To which he passed with
flying colors. A dedication to wherever he put his passion on. Very much like
his father as I saw from my own eyes. The way they both searched for answers.
Patiently. Methodically. Humbly.
The small cars he loved were somewhere collecting dust now.
But not the memories of them playing together. Assembling some together.
Choosing simple ones among the grander choices.
And along with that journey came many hugs. Of wiping tears
as he experienced broken hearts. From being viewed as “weird” from some peers
when my son chose not to join things that he deemed would not be beneficial to
him. A lesson his father often uttered during one of their private
conversations.
As I’m writing now and enjoying my cup of coffee, I am
remembering these 2 boys in my life who bless me so much in my own journey.
They are my riches after the Lord. And I can’t help but notice as my son still
sleeps in his room, he is now a man. And his father never taught him those “macho
things”. His father never taught him to fill his heart with pride whenever he
succeeds. Nor he ever told his son to please others just to be accepted.
Alas! My husband never taught our son to be “courageous”. In
fact, the first thing he taught him was to have FEAR.
And this fear is the greatest thing I believe. That molded my
son’s heart to become where he is now. Dutiful. Responsible. Respectful.
Humble. Careful. Accepting. Loving…And I could go on and on…
Yes, this thing… That even if he walks in these longer distances and unseen miles ahead, my husband and I will never ever worry knowing Who is leading the way.
This thing called fear of God…
Happy Father's Day to you my dear husband and to all of you great dads out there! God bless and protect you all and continue to guide you all with His divine wisdom. Thank You Lord for Your love and mercy. For Your sacrifice so that we may be adopted and call God our "Abba Father!"
Beautiful my friend.
ReplyDeleteOh yes, to fear the Lord our God above all. He is to be exalted. It certainly sounds like your husband and you trained your son well in the ways of God. I'm so glad to read how your son continues to walk in God's ways. So many Christian sons and daughters go off to college and wander from the faith they've been taught. Happy Father's Day to your husband.
ReplyDeleteBlessings and love to you sister,
Debbie
PS Thank you for your thoughts on authenticity in blogging. I totally agree with what you wrote.
What a great tribute to your husband to write a post like this during the Father's Day season. You son sounds wonderful and I'm sure you had a lot to do with that too. He has two great examples of fearing the Lord!
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