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On June 24th, 1956, a handsome young man and a beautiful young woman got married. He was 20, she was 24. They were soon to become my parents. As the years went by, their home was blessed with three little girls.
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| Don Riffel |
In our home, the habits of morning and evening family worship were quickly established. At the end of each worship time, Daddy would pray for each of his three daughters by name. At the end of the prayer, he always said, "And save us in thy kingdom," and here there would be a slight dramatic pause, "without the loss of one."
Amazingly, I never heard my Dad use a swear word, never heard him tell a lie, never saw him break the speed limit, never saw him steal anything. Also, I never witnessed any lustful gestures, or heard him utter any lewd, vulgar remarks. He never watched anything on television that would have been unsuitable for a small child to watch.
My father loved my mother supremely. On the 24th of each month, they quietly celebrated their wedding anniversary. Until after my Dad passed away, I had no idea this monthly celebration even existed. And they did this for 42 years. There was not a day of those 42 years when my Mom did not feel loved and very special.
My Dad had a great sense of humor, but it was always clean and was never used at the expense of another’s feelings. If he felt he had wronged one of us, or someone outside the family, he would go to that individual, admit his wrong and ask forgiveness.
Daddy didn’t enjoy spanking us, but neither did he shrink from it. First, he would talk with us, in his soft baritone voice, helping us to understand how our actions had not only hurt others, but had wounded Jesus as well. This was not a sermon; it was merely a simple explanation of the effects of sin.
Sometimes my Dad would pray with us after the talk. Usually by then I would be crying because I was so sorry I had hurt Jesus. The spanking was anti-climactic because the burden of my sin, and my new-found sorrow for it, far outweighed the pain of physical punishment.
Our family attended church regularly. After church, Daddy would open and hold the car doors for his four women. And then he would go to other cars in the parking lot, holding doors open for other ladies. Some had husbands with them. I often wondered how they felt about that.
Many of my peers have never known their father, and many who have, wish they had not. My Dad was a shining example of my heavenly Father. When I study the attributes of my heavenly Father, I realize they are the same attributes I saw in my earthly father. Can a child possibly be more blessed?
In my parents’ home, there are many pictures of my Dad. My favorite is of the two of us, sitting in an airport. I have my head on his shoulder. He has his arm around me. And we are smiling and talking quietly. In a few minutes I was to board a plane for my home far away and probably would not see him again for several months.
Often I have wondered how my heavenly Father must have felt just before Jesus left heaven. As He looked in to the future, He could see a 33-year separation, much danger, torture, and finally death on a cross. I wonder if the Father put His strong arm around Jesus, and maybe Jesus laid his head on His Father’s shoulder.
Perhaps the Father whispered sweet words of love and strength and assurance just as my father did so many times, in so many airports. Soon the glorious resurrection day will arrive when I will be reunited with my earthly father, and when I will see my heavenly Father for the first time. I want to be there. I want all of us to be there. Without the loss of one.
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