Comments shared at Dad's funeral service, 1/22/2021:
Thinking About Dad
One of the common themes we have heard from so many is how deeply appreciated our Dad was for his love of the Lord, his devotion to the Word of God, his Bible teaching, and his preaching that touched so many with the Gospel from the 1960’s to just last year.
Some of my dearest memories are from times when I was just old enough to ride shotgun with Dad on the front pew in the assembly, as he waited his turn to either preach or lead the singing. This was a privilege that required self-discipline, as I was on my own once he stepped up onto the stage. I realized years later that our Dad was modeling public speaking and spiritual service and making these things normal for us to picture ourselves doing someday.
In the late 70s and early 80s, our Dad often served as a pinch hitter for congregations around Southern and Central California who were without a preacher. I remember long drives to unfamiliar towns, such as Hemet and Modesto, but in those towns finding people who loved the Lord and welcomed us. These experiences made it normal to go out of the way, even a good distance out of the way, to meet a need when you have the ability and the opportunity.
While our Dad grew up in
the city, he was touched early in his life by the wonder of the natural world.
His teenage visits to Camp Tanda in Big Bear, CA, led to a lifelong love of the
forest. Dad and Mom made travel a priority, taking us boys to camp out in
Sequoia National Park. I remember the first time I ever set foot outside the
state of California, the summer I turned ten years old, when we went on a road
trip around the state of Arizona, seeing the Grand Canyon and the Painted
Desert. These experiences made it normal to be in awe of creation, to rejoice
in God’s handiwork, and to desire a closer connection to it.
It was the pursuit of continuing Bible education that brought Dad to Abilene, a move that made it normal to pursue learning, even if the journey is far, the destination unfamiliar, and the path difficult.
I am reminded today of a poignant moment in my life, which took place on Wednesday, October 28, 1981, in Buena Park, CA, around 8:30 pm, Pacific Time. I was 8 years old, and our beloved Dodgers were in the World Series against the New York Yankees. The Dodgers had gotten the upper hand in the series and were hoping to finish it off that night in Game 6 at Yankee Stadium. We attended Wednesday evening Bible class that night, and afterward piled into the car, still parked in the church parking lot, turning on the radio to hear Vin Scully’s broadcast of the game, which was drawing to its close by that time.
I distinctly remember sitting in the middle of the back seat of our 1978 Chevette, Mom in the front passenger seat, Daniel and Samuel on either side of me in the back, as Vin called the final out of the game, a fly ball caught by Dodgers’ center fielder Ken Landreaux. The Dodgers were the champs! In my elation, I looked out the windshield of the car and saw Dad, standing there in the parking lot, stuck talking to someone after Bible class, having missed the entire moment. I felt so bad for him. But there I was, loving something he had taught me to love, holding it down for him in his absence, so eager to tell him all about it when he finally joined us in that awesome little car.
That’s how I feel today, Dad.
We are here, loving the things you taught us to love, making life decisions that seem normal to us because you made them normal, honoring things that are important to us because they were first important to you.
We won’t be able to share these moments with you for awhile, but we know you’re not far away, and that you will be as eager to hear our stories when we see you again, as we will be to tell you all about it.
We love you, Dad, we thank
you for how you and Mom showed us the way, and we will see you there someday.
