Father's Day is always a happy day. We woke up early and got the chores done. We had homemade blueberry muffins and visited. Then off to church where we had Sunday School and Morning Worship Services. We read the following verses:
Ephesians 6:1-4
1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right.
2 Honour thy father and mother; (which is the first commandment with promise;)
3 That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.
4 And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
We sang beautiful, old hymns like "Faith of our Fathers" and "This is My Father's world." We had a great sermon, shook hands and hugged and then headed out. On special days like this, we normally dismiss evening services so that we can spend time with family having a family altar.
Our plans involved driving approximately 30 minutes to Kinder to spend time celebrating with my Dad. On the way, I took this photo:
Call me a sentimental, patriotic dude, but it always does something to me to see Old Glory waving in the breeze against a blue sky.
We showed up and ate crawfish etouffee and garlic bread. We looked at old photographs from 1950 - 1970 and reminisced and talked of old family stories. My Dad's sister, Aunt Cheryl was in from Dallas, and we laughed and talked and talked and talked. We retired to the back patio where we enjoyed coffee and later, a big, fat, sweet watermelon.
A lot these days is being said about privilege. As I think about it, I am privileged. I don't think of it in the context that it is being thrown around, though. My privilege comes from being raised in a family where my Dad & Mom both raised me and my siblings, teaching us to fear the Lord. Attending church every time the doors were open was not a suggestion, but a rule. We learned values, character, integrity, and the value of good, old-fashioned hard work.
When I messed up, I was punished. When I really messed up, I was spanked with all sorts of things - a belt, a hand, a hairbrush, a wooden spoon and the all-time worst thing - a switch freshly plucked from a bush growing in the woods. "This is gonna hurt me worse than it is gonna hurt you" was a phrase I heard a lot from my Dad and Mom immediately preceding a whipping.
Was it a perfect family? No. Did I always do the right thing? No. Did my parents make mistakes? Yes. But that was just it, we stayed together as a family unit, loved each other and moved forward. Everything good I've ever attained is due to the efforts of my parents. Everything bad is on me. So as I reflect, do I have privilege? A resounding yes. And I hope I, in turn, have given the same privilege to my (now grown) kids.
Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love and appreciate you! Thanks for all you do and have done.
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