Every day Father’s Day

Dear God,

I am thinking this morning of how to focus my mind and my energy. Actually, You know I do this every day but, this morning I am focusing on Sunday and the things I associate with Sunday like holiness, rest, peace, praise, worship, church, Joel Osteen and the Sunday Morning show on CBS.

In my mind, I sometimes imagine myself with my ideal mate/partner (who is still on his way to me) and then Sunday morning might include early morning kanoodling, breakfast in bed, a shared beach walk, and all of the above as well. I am looking forward to the arrival of Mr. Right-but-less-than-perfect guy. But today is where I am. Single with two sleeping shih tzu’s at my feet. So in the spirit of “be here now,” I want to think on and do what pleases You the most now.

First, I’m sure it’s NOT the Sunday morning political talk shows. Can’t politicians ever give it a rest! Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy. I think that means You want us to rest physically but to also rest from whatever disturbs our peace of mind. So, for me, no politics on Sunday (except of course during the annual legislative session). Ok, ok, just kidding God. I thought You had a sense of humor!

I just remembered that this particular Sunday is Father’s Day. (I know – every Sunday is Father’s day since You are our heavenly Father). Can You say Hi to Daddy for me? I have good memories of him even though he was definitely far from perfect. I remember him as a workaholic and, sadly an alcoholic too. Childhood Sundays alternated between church one weekend and no church the next weekend. The church weekends were when Dad was full of remorse for his drinking. The non-church weekends were when he was suffering too much from hangovers to make the trip. Sunday television included Oral Roberts and we always watched Billy Graham when he was on. My Dad was a big fan. I was forced to be a fan. I much preferred the Fall season of Sunday television which was full of football.

Mixed in with my tiptoeing on eggshells when he was passed out and watching him throw up in the kitchen sink, there were picnics and homemade ice cream, memories of him pushing me on a swing high in the sky, and daily presents when I was restricted to bed for six weeks because of trouble with my kidneys.

It has only been in recent years that I have been able to recognize some additional hard truths. He was a womanizer (cheating on a woman with ten children!), and he, in fact, was never present in my life on an emotional level. But it is also true that I wish he hadn’t died at 50, that he were around to know his beautiful granddaughter and that I had been able to know him as an adult woman. I think he would have been proud that, although I inherited his disease, I am recovered these 20 years from it. The healing that he always prayed for and wanted for himself came through me.

Happy Father’s Day, Father

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.

Do not let Sunday be taken from you If your soul has no Sunday, it becomes an orphan. ……Albert Schweitzer