My Teacher

I wrote this before Dad died.  I thought I might read it at his funeral but it didn't seem right.  But I want to include it in my blog.

My Dad has been my greatest teacher.  Today I thank God for him.

What did he teach me?

                From Dad I learned that people are not good or bad.  People are just people who do good and bad things because of their own life experiences.  People do bad because of their own insecurities or sometimes their ignorance or self centeredness or any number of reasons.  People do good for many reasons.  Sometimes because they need praise.  Sometimes because they want to go to heaven (which in my opinion is the worst reason to do good).  Sometimes because they have had so many blessings they can’t do anything else.  When I’ve done good it’s because I ‘ve had the peace of Jesus Christ inside me and doing good just results.

                From Dad I learned that the deeper you know a person the easier it is to love them.  You can’t stop half way in the knowing because then sometimes you don’t get to the love thing.

                From Dad I learned that life is hard but forgiveness makes it easier.

                From Dad I learned that kindness is very important.  He is very kind.  But even very kind people do very unkind things.

                From Dad I learned not to be a respecter of persons.  I learned that because he chose to care about some people who were the most difficult people I know.  And he chose to cast off people who were very good  because they were fat or black.  By the time he died he’d learned that he could vote for a black president and hug very fat women.

                From Dad I learned that people change.  I learned to not hold people to their sins.  To use new eyes and give people a chance. 

                From Dad I learned to be tough.  To be proud of yourself.  That there is a pride that adds to life.

                From Dad I learned that selfishness hurts.

                Because of Dad I learned about Grace. 

                There have been times in my life that I prayed he would die so I wouldn’t have to deal with him.  I thought my life would be better without him.  And now I think I won’t be able to stand it when I can’t stop by and give him a kiss and a hug.  I look into his eyes and I see one thing: love.  I see the man who adored me as a baby, delighted in me as a toddler, held me when I cried, defended me as a teen, watched me cheerlead, sacrificed for me so I could eat and have a roof over my head and have gifts at Christmas and birthdays.  I see a man who was weak when it came to alcohol and women.  I see a man who was physically strong and tender hearted.  A man who lived with guilt and shame.  He does not feel worthy of the love bestowed upon him.  I see his faults as I see my own.  I know him like a child knows her father.  And I love him deeply.