Many years ago, when I was still a little boy, our family attended a gospel meeting in Weirton, WV. This is where my dad preached for the first two years of my life, and four years prior to my birth. This occasion was one of the rare times I remember getting to sit with my dad in a worship service. You see, he was always preaching.
As I was sitting beside him, a little boy from Weirton saw my dad, came running to see him, and climbed up in his lap and hugged his neck. (Dad always loved children and they always loved him).
As I sat there next to MY Dad, I watched as some “strange” boy sat in MY Dad’s lap, and was hugging MY Dad’s neck, and I became jealous. I didn’t like it. I wanted him to leave. After all, he was MY Dad, not his, and I didn’t want to share.
Now that I’m grown, sharing MY Dad is not a point of jealousy, but a point of joy and pride I have in MY Dad. You see MY Dad spent his life being a “second father,” to countless young men as well as middle-aged men…men who are my friends. I’m so thankful for that. For today, I don’t grieve alone for the loss of MY Dad but I grieve along with my “brothers” upon the loss of OUR Dad.