The father about whom this poem was originally written is a grandfather now. Being involved in a grandson’s life is a wonderful reward for the time you put in as a parent. I ran across this poem tonight and, since it is almost PTP time (http://www.polishingthepulpit.com), and since I have to speak a bunch of times on that great program, it’s an excellent time to run something written long ago. Here’s to a new and wonderful generation…starting with little Ezra…who is already watching the patriarch live for God!
Just Daddy
He’s always there for the big times…
Recitals, big games, spelling bees;
He’s so busy down at the office,
But still he can make time for these.
But I think it’s the quiet “at home” times
That mean most to the children and me;
Times when the preacher’s just “Daddy”…
The daddy no one else will see.
Dad, who shoots ball, pets kittens and laughs
At jokes he’s heard over again;
Who pops corn for movies, builds toys in his shop,
Plays monopoly, but lets Mama win.
He stands up and cheers for them, kneels down and prays for them,
Listens, laughs, loves and forgives;
While listening to lessons he tells them of life
They’re learning the way that he lives.
Cindy Colley
