My Dad, A Faithful Servant
A God-fearing man.
Quiet.
Steady.
Consistent.
A faithful servant was he.
Dad was Dad—
Meek, mild, and even-tempered,
day in
and day out.
A faithful servant was he.
He rarely told me what to do.
Sometimes, I listened,
and other times,
I didn’t.
A faithful servant was he.
He tolerated my fashion shows.
Twirling and dancing,
he turned newspaper pages.
Gazing up each time
with an ooh and an ahh.
A faithful servant was he.
Dad held my hair back when sick.
Cool cloths blotted
neck and forehead,
hand held
tenderly.
He was there for it all.
A faithful servant was he.
“Dad, can you drive me here,
there, everywhere?” I pleaded.
Off we would go.
Ice-skating, sledding, roller-skating.
A faithful servant was he.
As nutmeg and cinnamon
filled the air,
a rolling pin and flour
lay on the counter.
There stood Dad,
donned in an apron
and
chef’s hat.
A faithful servant was he.
Peering through
the oven door’s glass.
Waiting patiently
for the pies
and fruit cake
to bake.
A faithful servant was he.
Work clothes each workday.
Coffee.
Apple.
A Bible tucked in his lunchbox.
A faithful servant was he.
Jack of all trades,
His tools lined up on the pegboard.
Played music by ear,
sang solos at church.
A faithful servant was he.
He lived by faith,
walked in grace,
and loved as best he could.
Not perfect, yet steadfast.
Well done, good and faithful servant.
Circa 1988
Happy Father’s Day!
#Father’sDay #Parenting #Faith #MothersandParenting
I and Thou Reflections 