The Billy Graham funeral today was touching and emotional.
One of his daughters told a story about how he welcomed her back home after she went through a tough time, and how that helped her to understand how God the Father loves her. It reminded me of a time when my daddy was especially kind to me.
I was sixteen and hadn't had my drivers license very long when Daddy let me drive his relatively new, red Chrysler New Yorker to school so I could leave early for a dentist appointment in downtown Charlotte. About one pm I left, and I was still on the two lane country road when I came upon trucks stopped for road repairs. I realized I was going to have to drive around them, but I had never done such a thing and felt nervous. So I tentatively drove around, a ditch on my left and the truck on my right. I must have been scared I was going to land in the ditch, because I pulled back in too soon, hitting a truck at an angle that caused the right side of Daddy's car to peel back like it was opened with a can opener. It was horrifying. I was ashamed. But what I remember most is how kind my daddy was to me afterward. He didn't fuss, raise his voice, or make a big deal out of it. I knew he forgave me and loved me in spite of my inadequate driving and wrecking his nice car. And it had a profound influence on me. One thing is, because of my earthly father's love toward me, it has been easier for me to grasp my Heavenly Father's love, even when I screw up or feel unworthy.
No comments:
Post a Comment