“Careful and persistent work and effort”
I watch his labor.
I feel it.
In the set of his shoulders. In his stride. How he opens a drawer or moves down the hall.
I can tell when his burden is heavy.
The mechanics are calling. The churches need tending. The lessons need preparing. The sick need visiting. The oppressed need praying.
And the tires are always going flat.
There is a birthday to make memorable. Websites to update. A NEVERENDING slew of reports for agencies in front of us and those who meet far away.
Emails continue to arrive. Decisions pending must be faced. School.
Assignments to grade. Students to mentor. Counseling to ponder.
And the dreams. The vision. His life blood.
The camp. The retreat center. Our family home.
An aviation ministry.
Prayer and Vision. A council that will not be forgotten.
And the always needful, “Dad?”
Nineteen years ago, I was just beginning to learn his cadence.
His long stride covered ground quickly. Movement was synonymous with him. He hated to turn around and go back. Preferred to find the way forward.
Uphill energized him. The strenuous was a welcome outlet. His exertion breathed life into him. Gave him a story to tell.
He sought the challenge. Tackled it.
And always continued forward.
He still does.
I will never cease to be amazed, thankful and (honestly) exasperated at his determined pace. I’m challenged by it. I’m fatigued by it. I’m trained by it.
And I undeniably depend on it.
So many people do.
When those steps grow heavy, I notice.
I feel it.
And I know.
He will continue on.
The exertion will only serve to strengthen him. To write more of an adventure into his story.
Our Father has a plan. We know this. We remind each other.