Today, I would like to tell you about my dad, and I can’t think of a better way for you to get to know him than by showing you a note he wrote me many years ago.
Poems beginning in “Roses are red, violets are blue” were to my dad’s side of the family what a coat of arms is to a Scottish man. Also notice the unique block letters, phonetic spelling, and questionable punctuation. Dad would say, “Well, ya understood what I meant, didn’t ya?”
Do you see what kind of man my Dad was? He took care of me (not just with money help but in every way he possibly could), and he enjoyed doing it. Because of him, I have in my mind what a good dad is like. Because of my dad, it is no work at all for me to trust God when he says to call him Father. I feel completely comfortable asking God for any kind of help I need. I trust his love and his good intentions toward me.
…he is good.
And his love endures forever.
Psalm 136:1 (NIV)
And now today is the day that I am going to present to you something that I hope will help you trust God to be a good Father to you:
One day I started writing down all of the rich and good experiences I had with my Dad. They’re short stories (the kind you can read while you’re waiting for the macaroni water to boil), and I think they just might convince you, if you need convincing, or remind you, if you need reminding, that there are good fathers out there, and they make a compelling argument that God will be good to you, just as he promises.
When I finished reading through the proof of My Father’s Hands for the last time, I closed the pages and said out loud to myself, “Now that is a happy book.”
And I know you need some happy.
Now if you’ll indulge me, because you know it’s my heritage, I’m going to close with these profound words and no punctation:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I hope you like the book
I writ for you
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