My Daddy's Chair

It doesn't look like much. It's been recovered a couple of times to fit my Mom's changing decor. It's not expensive, yet it's value far exceeds it's worth. To any visitor it is ordinary. Although this armchair sits empty now, the prayers that have been lifted from it's frame continue on. This is my Daddy's chair. For countless years my Dad has risen early and found his place here before God's throne. With Bible open on His knee, pen in hand, head and heart bowed, this is holy ground.

As a child I would often peek through the door and watch in silence. I knew I was eyewitness to the sacred. God spoke and my Dad listened and obeyed. Direction was sought and received. God's Word came alive and active in my Dad's life.

Over many years Dad's prayers for me brought life, encouraged character development, enabled me to handle peer pressure, petitioned God for my safety, earnestly sought a godly husband, offered forgiveness, endured hours on his knees during both piano and school exams, cried out to God through every disappointment, longing to take each of my heartaches on himself and taught me to always trust His heart.

His chair was a place of refuge from the storms of life. A place of communion with His Father. Although his chair sits empty, as Dad still remains in a hospital, and short of a miracle he'll never daily sit in this chair again, it is a symbol of my heritage. A heritage of a praying Father. Endless conversations were offered in silence and always heard by a loving God. A tattered Bible gives evidence of God's responses.

The chair is aging, and so is my Dad, yet both still hold firm to their foundation. Memories are held in my heart and echo treasured stories of events long passed. I have never for one moment doubted Dad's love for me. His life has made believing in a loving, Heavenly Father so natural and easy.

I don't ever remember my Dad raising His voice, except in praise and excitement. He is a refined, educated gentleman, but also a great tease, who loves to impersonate others, much to my mother's chagrin. Until this last illness, he embraced life to the full and lived each day with vigor.

Just yesterday while visiting Dad in the hospital I discovered a new note in his handwriting. He wrote, "I love all 4 of my girls. One really without measure, the mother of our lovely children. May her dreams all come true. May all that takes place be the perfect will of God and the foundation of my family and HIS WILL. PRAY. PRAY. PRAY. Thank You God! I love all my girls. It is the mother I love and she has never changed!!"

Here at 83, with mind now wandering and health failing, he still expresses such love for his family and for his God. His chair is empty, but his heart is full. Lord, please bless my Daddy today. Thank You for letting me grow up in the security of a father's love and under the umbrella of a father's prayers.

Happy Father's Day Dad. Love ya for always and forever,
"Bells"

My Dad and my Husband. The two men I celebrate with today.