Daddy
Daddy was my hero. He had all the answers. How I loved him. He cared about me and taught me many things. Sometimes he spanked me, and I didn’t agree with his discipline, and yet I loved him and felt the security of his love as sure as his arms around me.
Why? I trusted him. How? Although I was not perfect, he forgave me for occasional disobedience accompanied by consequences. When? He was a 24/7 Dad. Where? Everywhere.
He taught me that nothing is impossible to accomplish. He taught me that truth, honesty, and an honorable name is worth more than possessions. He taught me the Bible, telling stories with a flourish of actions and a rise and fall of his voice, that made the heroes of the Bible become real.
He encouraged me when I tried anything. I stood tall in his eyes. I was the daughter of Herman Bennie Siemens. When I sang a song, he sat in his chair and listened. Although it was difficult for him to carry a tune, I listened to his critiques. They were meaningful.
When I married and expected our first child, Dad told me what it was like when I was born. Then Mom told me how excited Dad was when I was born in 1929, in a country home one Sunday evening. He misspelled my name on the announcements (Emilie) and buried the new wedding sheets in the backyard after their job was done.
I can still see Dad, ready to plunge into a new project with his arms swinging and his legs pumping. And projects were plentiful. From hooking up the Model A car battery to the Christmas lights in 1930 so Mom would have a Christmas Tree to caponizing chickens, to gardening, to teaching my brothers how to candle eggs before taking dozens of eggs on their egg route in a red wagon. He made a steering wheel into a circling swing, built a sand box house. He put up swings in the backyard of the Clinton house. He gathered huge stones to make a fireplace in the yard. He built three story, 4 hens to a story, to count the output of eggs.
Daddy taught a Sunday School, became a Scout Master, led singing at church, sang in the choir besides being a Dad.
When we moved to Watonga, I told Dad that we should be more serious and not tease so much. Very seriously he agreed with me. Two weeks later, I noticed that we were laughing just as much as usual. Dad liked to tease us.
Then, after a bout with heart attack after heart attack, he went to the hospital. With his beloved Anna and his three children beside him, he left us to be with His Lord, with a smile on his lips.
Later I thought about Daddy. And realized that I had a picture of my Heavenly Father through my Dad. A Heavenly Father of love and discipline. A Heavenly Father who knew me from the beginning. He knew my thoughts and my disobedience, yet he loved me.
I learned to trust God and His teachings through trusting and learning from Daddy. God wants me to be truthful and honest, because I am wearing His Name. I do not want to dishonor Him. I am the child of the King.
My Father in Heaven wraps His arms around me and encourages me to live His way. His word has answers about how I live each day, the attitudes of the fruit of the spirit.
I John 3:1-3 (The Message) 1 What marvelous love the Father has extended to us! Just look at it—we’re called children of God! That’s who we really are. But that’s also why the world doesn’t recognize us or take us seriously, because it has no idea who he is or what he’s up to.
2-3But friends, that’s exactly who we are: children of God. And that’s only the beginning. Who knows how we’ll end up! What we know is that when Christ is openly revealed, we’ll see him—and in seeing him, become like him. All of us who look forward to his Coming stay ready, with the glistening purity of Jesus’ life as a model for our own.
Just as I felt secure with my Dad, I feel eternally secure with my Heavenly Father. And it is through Jesus, that I know I will be reunited with my earthly Dad, because of my Heavenly Father. Praise God!
Comments? eacombs@gmail.com