What a Dad Does That Really Matters

A dad who knows God knows himself and introduces Him to his children without even trying.

I’m not talking about church or religion.

I mean teaching your children who they are and how to grow spiritually by:

  • the way you talk to them,
  • remembering them,
  • playing with them,
  • listening to them
  • teaching them by example
  • forgiving them
  • respecting them
  • loving them
  • sacrificing for them
  • leading them to do the same for others
  • etc.

Maybe you”ve taught your child or someone else’s child to talk to God, to wonder and ask questions, and listen for answers. Perhaps you’ve shown him or her all about God with how you live your life. I hope so.

My father taught me to see God. He never even used the name “God”. He lived in a loving way with me.

Because of that I know who I am and that I matter in the Universe.

There’s nothing else that could ever compensate for that.

In the “end”, it’ll be all that matters to me, to you, to everyone; to remember what we already know – the stuff that’s deep inside that gets lost and forgotten.

The stuff that matters.

In the end.

I miss my dad and his simple ways.

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4 thoughts on “What a Dad Does That Really Matters

    • Thanks, Ann! Somehow I knew that last year was the last Father’s Day with my dad. So, I’m okay. I was reflecting this morning about the influence fathers have on their children and how powerful an influence they have for good and bad. Just made me start thinking about what really matters.

      About 8 hours before my dad died I walked into his room to spend the night. The first words out of his mouth were, “Your bishop is going to be so mad at me!”

      I laughed and said, “He’s such a nice man! He’d never be mad at you!”

      “I want to meet him,” he said, “I’ve done some terrible things,” he said.

      I made a call but the visit never happened. He was disappointed. So was I. My dad’s whole perception of God was that He was angry and ready to punish him. I don’t know why he felt that way, but I knew he really needed to know that he was loved and as flawed as the rest of us. I told him I’d done some pretty bad things, too, but that I was doing okay. He seemed content with that admission.

      I wish he’d been as opewith me about things before those last few hours. I would have listened. But, I guess he didn’t consider himself mortal until he was dying.

      Anyways, He was a great dad. He was very patient with me, except when teaching me to drive. I thought of that today, too. I’m buying a little VW Bug this week -a standard! Teaching me to drive it would have killed him for sure! I can still hear him saying, “Geez, Bets!” as I took a corner too wide, as he slammed against the car door. Ha! Great memories!

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