Ray Ortlund: Christ Is Deeper Still
Posted: 21 Jun 2010 12:00 AM PDT
Years after I was grown, mom told me how dad came home at the end of the day. After giving himself wholeheartedly all day, his blood sugar low, as he walked up the back steps and just before he opened the door, he shot up a prayer: “Lord, I need a little extra energy. Please give me something more right now, to give my family.” God answered that prayer.
His pattern was, first, to go give my mom a huge, borderline-embarrassing kiss, and then he’d turn to me and say, “Come on, Skip, let’s wrestle!” He and I went out to the front room and got down on the floor and wrestled and tickled and had fun being guys together. Then it was dinner time.
I can never remember my dad coming home with nothing to give.
Memories of my dad: 2 is a post from: Ray Ortlund
Posted: 20 Jun 2010 01:50 PM PDT
This being Father’s Day, let me tell you a few stories about my dad. I hope you will be encouraged.
First memory. Every now and then, when dad felt that he and I hadn’t had enough time together, he would take me out of school. His day off was Monday. So on Sunday night he’d say, “Want to skip school and go to the beach?” Off we’d go the next morning and surf and goof off and just be together.
On Tuesday morning, he’d write a note for me, I’d take it into the school office, and they would mark my absence “unexcused.” I guess they saw no excuse for a dad spending time with his son. Dad didn’t care. He didn’t feel imprisoned within their technicalities. He wanted me to do my best in school, of course. He told me so. But being a dad was too real to him to be held back by the formal disapproval of the system. I felt loved by him. I still do. And that too is education.
More memories this week, as Jani and I are away at an Acts 29 retreat in Colorado.
Memories of my dad: 1 is a post from: Ray Ortlund
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