Took a look at the funnies the other day. To be honest, I read them for the laughter. But I noticed something else in the process. Call me sensitive, or call me curious, but I was intrigued at the ways dads are presented. If it’s true that art imitates life, we may have some big problems. With fathers. With God. With ourselves.
Who is Father? According to the comics, he is Dagwood, the family calamity. He lives to sleep, or to eat, or to deal with the occasional salesman. He’s loveable, but always a little bit late, and about one brick shy of a load.
Who is Father? [click to continue…]
I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, “I’d like to see you if you don’t mind”
He said, “I’d love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job’s a hassle and kids have the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, Dad
It’s been sure nice talking to you”
And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He’d grown up just like me
My boy was just like me
-Harry Chapin, “Cat’s in the Cradle”
He’s an old man now. His physical vision is virtually gone; his heartbeat will soon follow. His spiritual vision? That’s another story. It’s still bright and filled with fire and hope. But it’s a vision that now sees through the eyes of other men. He has no children of his own, but does have a relationship with a man who may as well be. He’s one of those blessed individuals who knows his time is up, and who faces eternity with no regrets. And now he writes the man he calls his son in the faith. His future looks bright; he can only pray the same for Tim.
Stand steady, and don’t be afraid of suffering for the Lord. Bring others to Christ. Leave nothing undone that you ought to do. I say this because I won’t be around to help you very much longer. My time has almost run out. Very soon now I will be on my way to heaven. I have fought long and hard for my Lord, and through it all I have kept true to him. And now the time has come for me to stop fighting and rest (2 Timothy 4:5-7, LB).
A decade before I became a father myself, Harry Chapin sucker-slapped dads everywhere. [click to continue…]

Fran Cotton is a PK – a preacher’s kid. She saw love demonstrated by her pastor/father in a myriad of ways.
In response to my request for love stories, Fran shared the following example of how loving your neighbor can make you zigzag your way across your yard – and into someone else’s heart.
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(updated September 29, 2009)
Please enable Javascript and Flash to view this Flash video.Okay, if you aren’t one of the millions of people who has seen this three-year-old’s stunning summary of Star Wars (Episode IV), let me be the first to introduce you. This little girl had seen the movie only once, and her dad spread it over three days so it wouldn’t be too much all at once for her. She started retelling the story to him in much more vivid detail even than here, but alas, he says, the camera wasn’t rolling. So he got her to start over. He says:
She wasn’t coached to say anything, nor was she forced to make the video. She rarely stops talking. Those of you with children understand this: sometimes it’s harder to turn the faucet off than to turn the faucet on.
This isn’t about Star Wars. I really don’t care whether you are a complete fool for Luke, Chewbacca and the gang, or whether you think the series is completely evil, or even whether you’ve seen it. It’s about something much more profound.
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Lisa Collins is a friend, a ministry partner, an extraordinary worship leader, and a bride-to-be. In response to my request for love stories, she wrote to me about how her father modeled God’s grace. I think you’ll like it! Here goes….
The casual observer might glance at my Dad and not notice anything that distinguishes him from any other man. He is average in height and build. His hair is showing some gray-which is expected of a man in his sixties who survived raising two daughters. His home is modest and under a mortgage. His job is nothing that will bring him acclaim, wealth or notoriety – he is a plumber. He is a husband. He is a father. He is a “B-Poppa”-short for “Big Poppa” in case you don’t speak his granddaughter, Daphnee’s, language.
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