The Tribute

Dear friends, in my last post I shared how challenging my formative years were and how much resentment I harbored towards my father. Year after year I found myself mired in a cycle of bitterness, regardless of how hard I tried to escape it. I was not just walking through the valley, I was settling in it. Then God showed me the way out of the valley to the mountaintop, a path which has revolutionized my life.

One day in the spring of 1995, God allowed me to get a glimpse of my dad through His eyes, and I have never been the same. The catalyst that started the healing process with my father and the inner healing for me took place during that spring. I first thought it was a chance encounter, but later came to realize it was a divine appointment. I was 31 at the time, and I was still so broken from my past that I did not realize that I was about to have an encounter with the Lord that would change the direction of my life forever; and in a bookstore of all places!

I picked up a book titled The Tribute: What Every Parent Longs to Hear, by Dennis Rainey (1994). I looked at the title in disgust and remember thinking that my father deserved no tribute. I put the book back on the shelf and kept walking around the store trying to find the perfect Christian gift for a friend’s birthday, which is why I was there in the first place.

I did not realize it at the time, but I was really there to buy that book. I could not stop thinking about the book, and it was really frustrating me because I knew I did not want to buy it. After walking around for what seemed like an eternity, I purchased the book and left.

I was angry with God all the way home. Why would I buy such a book, since I was hardly speaking to my father at the time? I got home, put the book on the table, and thought that was that. I remember starting dinner and yet I found myself stopping what I was doing to go pick up the book. It was like a magnet I was drawn to.

I kept telling God that I had the worst father ever. I had never had one meaningful conversation with him in my life, so why would I write a tribute to him? I knew if I did, it would be lies…or so I thought. God convinced me otherwise, and I finally submitted to Him.

I sat at my dining room table for hours reading the book and trying to write a tribute that my heart was not in. Finally, I started to cry and said to the Lord, “Please help me to honor you by giving me the words of healing my dad and I both need to hear.” Then I put my head down and fell asleep. It was only for a short time, but when I awakened, the Lord had given me the words to say. I was emotionally spent and within thirty minutes I had a heartfelt, sincere tribute written to my father. I remember reading it and crying all over again.

I had it printed on beautiful paper, matted and framed. I gave it to him on Father’s Day 1995. I remember seeing the tears streaming down his face as he read it, and I cried right along with him. Little did I know that my father would die two years later. Those two years were some of the best we ever spent with each other. He was still who he was in essentials, but God had softened his approach. He was different on a deep level, and so was I.

Let me leave you with this, friend. What God was teaching me that day sitting at my dining room table is this. I was not writing the tribute to my earthly father; I was composing it to my heavenly Father, and my early father was the conduit through which I was communicating.

Friend, if you are willing to visit the places you have run from all your life, God will meet you there and revolutionize your life. And I promise you it will not be a chance encounter. He has been there all along and has made a divine appointment for you. Until next time, friend.