[Faith-talk] Daily Thought for Wednesday, June 18, 2014

[Paul]

Hello once again to all my loyal readers out there.  I hope that this message finds you well, by God's matchless grace and His providential care.

I can't recall whether or not I shared the following story with most of you before.  Be that as it may, I hope you enjoy it.  This article was written by Aaron Fenner of Ithaca, NY and is entitled "Do What You Love," rendered as follows:

In our family, Mom ran the household.  Dad was the chef.  He was our go-to guy, especially for anything grilled--beef, chicken, pork, you name it.  As next-in-line grill man, I assisted him on the back porch, overseeing food prep alongside our classic Weber grill, where Dad would handle the cooking, grilling tongs in hand like a scepter.  Those were happy times.  Basking in Dad's attention, absorbing critical knowledge on the barbecue arts, sharing man-to-man talks.  There was something about standing over hot coals and sizzling food that enabled us both to let our guard down.

The summer after high school I needed all the help I could get.  In two months I'd be off to college.  I hadn't the faintest idea what I should major in.  What frightened me most was this:  Dad had always been there to advise me, and now, when I needed his help most, I worried he wouldn't be around much longer.  When I was five, he was diagnosed with Hodgkin's disease, an aggressive form of cancer.  For the last few years, he'd been in remission, but with cancer you just never know.

"Dad," I said one night, as we stood in front of the steaming grill, "there are so many decisions to make.  How will I know what to do?"

Dad said nothing at first.  Instead, he took the tongs--his long silver-colored grilling tongs.  I never touched them.  "They're for the man of the house," he'd always say.  Then he flipped the pork loin that was smoking.  "It will all work out," he said softly.  "Trust in God.  And do what you love."

I nodded like I understood, though I really didn't.  When Dad started teasing me about my grilling IQ, I was secretly relieved.  Between Dad's illness and navigating my way through college, the future seemed so confusing, so uncertain.  I didn't want to think about it.

I went off to college that August.  I had a million decisions to make, all on my own without Dad there to help me:  Do I take this course or that? Should I join a fraternity? What's the best strategy for budgeting my time? Is this girl I'm dating the right one for me?

I was just starting to get a hold on things.  Then on Christmas Day my freshman year Dad's cancer came back.  The next year I got a call from Mom.  "You need to come home," she said.  "Your father is dying." He didn't last long.  Not long enough for me to have any more serious talks with him about all those decisions I had to make.  After the memorial service, I was lost.  I drifted from class to class in a daze.  I have to snap out of this, I thought.  Dad wouldn't want me this way.

Somehow I struggled through the remainder of the school year.  After my last exam, I packed up my things and returned home, still consumed by grief.

Mom was waiting for me.  "I miss him as much as you do," she said.  "But we still have our lives to live."

Just then I looked out the back door, into the backyard.  There sat the old Weber grill.  Dad's grill.  I went outside, walked up to it, and memories of Dad came flooding back.  The silly jokes, the bear hugs, the shared confidences.  I teared up.  Something came over me.  I kicked the grill, hard.  Ow! Something whacked me in the knee.  Dad's tongs.  I picked them up, looked to Mom in the kitchen.  It's time to be a man, I thought.  The man Dad would want me to be.  I strode into the house, past Mom, to the kitchen cabinet where she stored herbs and spices, and I mixed up a nice spice rub, one of Dad's specialties.  I fired up the grill, then grabbed a pork loin from the fridge, put it on a plate and sprinkled spices and olive oil on it.  I took the pair of tongs as though they were my own.  Now I was the man of the house.  "Dad, I'm ready," I said.  The meal was delicious.  As good as Mom and I could remember.  Afterward, we shared a good cry.  "He taught you well," she said.

Two years have passed.  I still miss Dad.  I miss our talks.  But he was right.  I have started to figure things out on my own.  I found a great girl.  We're engaged.  And I just graduated with a degree in hotel and restaurant management.  Doing what I love.

And there you have Aaron's story which I hope you enjoyed reading.  Maybe by now he's working in a place somewhere in the Catskills, or perhaps in one of the towns along Lake Champlain like Plattsburgh, NY or any number of towns on the Vermont side of the lake.  I've no idea, but I hope that he's doing well, by God's matchless grace and His providential care.  I've had this article for over three years now.

And now may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and collectively, in these last days in which we live.  Lord willing, tomorrow there will be another daily thought message and article for you.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul