Father's Day

I really don't like public speaking or giving lessons of any kind.  Nor do I like being in leadership positions where I have to make decisions or give people assignments.   It's funny, really, because I sought those things out when I was younger.  I entered city speech contests, participated in oratory and debate, held class offices in Jr. High and High School, and spoke at high school graduation.  Maybe I got an overload of it when I was younger.  I just know I much prefer being in the background now and would be perfectly happy if I never had to publically speak again.      


I bring this up because I spoke in church on Sunday.  I worry over it a lot.  I don't do well extemporaneously at all.  In fact, I pretty much draw a blank if I'm called upon to do that.  So in preparing for a talk, I feel like I have to have it all planned out.   Then it is very stressful.   Then I start to second guess everything.   Giving lessons makes me just as nervous.  What comments will be made?  What if I don't know how to respond to something?   Etc, etc., etc. 


But, I did it.  And I was actually able to cut it short because of time, which was just fine with me.  But, as it was Father's day, I want share the part of it where I talked about the fathers in my life.  I have been so blessed in that regard.    (Which makes it hard when you are talking, because you don't want to make anyone feel badly who has not had good father figures in their lives.)

For my posterity, here is an exerpt of my feelings.  The topic I was given was, "The Influence of Righteous Priesthood Holders."
 

• ·     When my Dad died, almost 19 years ago, I remember sitting around my parent’s kitchen table to plan his funeral.   I knew that I was not up to talking at his funeral,  but I remember feeling so grateful that I had 3 older brothers who were willing and desirous,  and who could do it in such a way as to honor our father well.    

• ·      I also clearly remember, a few weeks after  Dad’s funeral,  reading  an editorial article I read in the paper.   The author wrote of attending a funeral for a man where his son got up to speak.  The son had a talk written,  but when he got up to speak he was so overcome with emotion that he could not even begin.  Finally, he just said, “He loved me,” and sat down.    As I read that, I was thinking in my mind that that is what would have happened to me had I tried to talk.

• ·     But the other feeling that I got from that article, was that, whether it was a beautifully written talk, delivered flawlessly, or a simple, “He loved Me,” the message was the same.   It always is when it is delivered with power and love.  

      Here are a few thoughts about the fathers in my life: 

• ·      My Dad was not much of a talker, he let my Mom do that.  But I could always sense and feel my Dad’s mind churning as he listened to our conversations.   And he was always seeking ways to fulfill the spoken, and unspoken, desires our hearts.   There was never a doubt that the love was there.    I am the youngest of 5 children, and I was 3 years old when our family was sealed in the Salt lake Temple.   That coincided with when my oldest brother was preparing for his mission.  And though I was too young to remember, my brother says that once the commitment was made to go through the temple, that Dad took very seriously the scripture in Micah 6:8:    "He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with they God?"   I felt the longing in my Dad's heart for those things.  And I always felt his love.

• ·     Gary’s father died when Gary was only 15, and I only got to meet him a couple of times.  But I've heard many stories about him and about what a kind and funny man he was.   Gary’s sisters tell the story of when Gary was about 6 or 7 and his mom was getting after him to get ready for church.  I guess he was giving lots of reasons why he didn’t want to, but he finally came out with, “Well, dad isn’t going, so why do I have to?”   His Dad had suffered with cancer for 10 years before his death, so he was not always feeling well.  But upon hearing Gary say that, he was up and dressed for church each week after that.    I think the message, "He loves me" comes across pretty clearly there.

• ·     I remember preparing for a Father’s day talk when our girls were little.  I wanted to include their thoughts in the talk, so I asked them something like,  "What do you do that makes Daddy happy?"     The response surprised me.  I don’t remember who said it, but it was said with quite a bit of force.   “I don’t have to do anything to make Daddy happy.  He loves me just the way I am.” 
•   
•       What I personally appreciate about Gary goes right along with that statement. I love that he desires for me, and for our children and grandchildren, what we most desire or ourselves. (That is not an easy thing with me, as sometimes what I desire is not practical or expedient, or necessary ) He is very unselfish in his desires and dreams. I appreciate and admire his constant striving in every aspect of his professional, religious, and personal life. There is never any doubt in our family that "He Loves Us."  

Well, I've written quite enough.   

But my feelings are heartfelt. 

I have been richly blessed

in the "father" department.