This is my dad, Donald Dyson who was born on June 11, 1942. By the time I came around my dad was 35 years of age, already a full time farmer. From a typical midwestern small town, my dad had never left the country until four years ago when my parents visited us in Ethiopia. There is a great deal I could say about my dad, but I will do my best to limit it to a couple of valuable lessons he has taught me as I think through Father's Day.
First, my dad is a hard worker and I have strived to live by that example. Dad didn't have to tell me he was working hard, he didn't have to post a picture or make a big announcement. My dad just worked hard, and provided for his family. Up early and home late, dad didn't complain as far as I know. The amazing thing about this however is that even when he did get home he would always take time to throw the baseball with me. Countless times dad would hit me some grounders to me or lay on the couch and toss me a tennis ball as I pretended to be a catcher across the room. I am sure he dozed off a few times, but I sure don't remember. Dad went to my basketball games and baseball games and always had time to stop by the John Deere dealership to look at the new toy tractors. I was grateful for that then, but I am even more so know. Dad did a great job balancing a life as a farmer and being a great dad and I am owe him so much for that.
Secondly, Sunday was church and dad didn't farm. That was a big one for me because I saw in my dad the importance of being at church with his family. He was not legalistic about it, there were times we were on vacation, but for the majority of times we were in church and dad had a day of rest. In relationship to this, I didn't play sports on Sunday. I don't ever remember arguing about this for the simple reason that it never crossed my mind. I knew that basketball and baseball would not be played on Sunday, church was far more important. I can't tell you the number if youth I have seen in my 15 years of ministry that have seen their spiritual growth wane as church became less and less emphasized. I cringe when I see pictures on Facebook of teenagers and their parents sitting at a baseball field on a Sunday when they should be in church. The parents seem oblivious to what they are teaching their kids. Thankfully my dad was a visionary and knew what would lie ahead for my sisters and I.
Today my dad is now 74 and I have 38. I am blessed with a beautiful wife of almost 17 years and three children. Ava is with Jesus, Ermias can't be with us right now and Jackson is sound asleep in his bed.
I look at my two boys and my wife and I am often overwhelmed with a sense of undeserved blessings. I make many mistakes in my life yet God still puts up with me as does my family also. I pray that when I am 74 I can look back and look at my kids and say that I did half as good of job my dad did. I hope that one day Ermias and Jackson will tuck their children in bed, read them a book and pray with them knowing that was what they did when they were kids. I am incredibly thankful for my dad and the lessons he taught me and continues to teach me and I love him very much.
Have a blessed Father's Day everyone,
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