Father’s Day Reflection

I don’t vividly remember too many particular days at Oklahoma State. It was a rather short, albeit enjoyable, period of my life spanning only four or so months. But there is one day I distinctly remember — a definitive and important day that I remember for a reason completely separate from the obvious.

My side of the dorm room was empty; my bed was stripped; my car was packed. My time at OSU was ending that very day. The only thing left was the 3 1/2 hour drive from Stillwater to Dallas. As I waited for my roommate to return from wherever he was, I laid on my naked bed listening to my iRiver (anti-norm!). A song called “Hosanna” by Jason Morant began to play. The song beautifully represents the irony of the gospel hosanna moment with the impending death of the hosanna. The lyrics echo the crowd’s sentiments that palm Sunday while the music has a somewhat melancholy tone. This juxtaposition leads to an emotionally powerful song.

The song moved my soul in the same way a Sigur Ros song move you while you listen to it in the rain; or in the same way Hester Prynne’s sin and ostracism moves you to fight for her; or in the same way that Joyce’s representation of Stephen Dedalus moves you to the realization you just might be that young man.

In this case, the Jason Morant song drew my eyes to a picture the resided on my roommate’s bulletin board. It consisted of my roommate and my dad, arm and arm. A perfect storm of circumstances, mixed and matched together, caused such a stir of emotion within my chest that I thought I just might shed a tear for the first time in my life. Never before had I recognized, felt, or understood the intense bond I had with my father. The moribund thought of my dad dying raced around my mind. What would I do? How would I handle it? How could I live without him? As I currently reflect upon it, the emotion was similar to the emotion that consumed me about my mother during my near death mountain climbing experience in Greece (maybe I will write about it one day).

There is something incredibly special about the relationship between a father and his son.  This is not to say that it supersedes the mother/son relationship, but for some reason, when God created the cosmos, he intentionally designed for sons to long for an intimate relationship with their father. It is probably because this specific earthly relationship is the best model and representation, while ultimately imperfect, of the relationship between humanity and it’s heavenly father.

All of my rambling is to say this: thank you, dad, for the conversations over the years and listening and entertaining all of my thoughts and dreams. Thank you for the encouragement. Thank you for the friendship we have cultivated. Thank you for the love. Thank you for loving my mom and being a great example of what a husband is supposed to be. And ultimately, thank you for reflecting God’s image in all facets of your life. I hope to become the man of God, husband, and father that you are.

Thank you.

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