Fathers.

When I think about fathers I can't help but think about my own daddy. I didn't call him "Father", just "Daddy" and later as we kids grew up and had kids of our own we began to call him "Pop". Funny how that happens. I know for a fact that he wasn't born with the name "Daddy"; he has the same name as my son and his own father, Reuben Stringfellow.  My daddy is Reuben Wayne, my son is Reuben Andrew, and my grandpa is Reuben Jefferson. There are quite a few Reu in our lives.

    The Bible tells us that children are a blessing from God, and I know that's true. I have been eternally blessed with my three. I suppose I was one of the four blessings my daddy had, and I'm absolutely sure all of my siblings agree that he was (and is) one of the best gifts we could ever have received from our Heavenly Father. What I think is really cool is that we can call God "Father" and we can call him "Abba" as well, which is the Hebrew way of saying "Daddy".  I also find it funny how dads claim their baby is saying their name when the child utters something like "da-da" or "Abba", we get it, you're awesome! We know this.

    I've seen the meme and/or saying that "Anyone can be a father, it takes a man to be a Daddy", and I have to agree with that statement. In my life, I have had two separate men decide on their own to stop being a daddy or a father to their children and to choose women, lust, sex, etc, over the extraordinary blessings sent to them from God Himself. It's heartbreaking, to say the least; crushing in fact. This is another reason why I think of my Daddy and call him my hero.  He didn't have to stay; I mean, he did, mom would have killed him if he had left her, but yeah, he wanted to stay. He taught all of us lessons far beyond that what we could ever learn on our own, from friends, and even from good people who wanted to give us the best of life. God gave us a Daddy. That was and is incredibly wonderful to hold in my heart.

    My daddy wasn't the type to play football in the front yard with us. He didn't pal around with us, teach us to fight, drink, hunt, or watch sports with us. He took us camping, and fishing, talked to us about life, read the Bible to us, and showed us what a husband should be, how a husband should treat his wife, and how a man should treat his children. There's just no replacement for that sort of thing in a child's life. To say I was blessed would be a great understatement. I was impressed, stamped, dyed in the color of true love, and it will always be that way even in Heaven.  

    Daddy decided to go see Jesus on October 5, 2017. He had an appointment he just couldn't reschedule. I know when the trumpet blows his body will rise before mine if I'm still alive during the Rapture. I know that right now he's up in Heaven in his spirit and he's making lots of wonderful plans for my room, house, whatever it is. My Daddy is a carpenter, like Jesus, and with his years of experience and love, I'm sure my place will be radiant, unique, and have that special something that only a Daddy can give a kid; you know, his baby girl. 

    When we do get there, when the trumpet blows, all of our sins will be gone. Every last thing we did on this Earth, every tiny and large out-of-the-question wrong that held us back from being who we needed to be, will be destroyed.  There will be love, there will be angels singing, Seraphim with laughter. There will be Roses giving their love, blowing kisses to us, and teaching us that nothing is out of the reach of a Believer who knows Jesus.  ALL will be forgiven. We will be united with our friends, family, people we don't know, people we read about, people we thought about, people who (like us) have been waiting to be made free -- isn't it a bit ironic that the thing that sets us free also binds us for eternity? That's the love of a FATHER.

My Daddy Reuben Wayne (age 18) next to his daddy Reuben Jefferson and my uncle Billy.

Photo Credit: Grandma Stringfellow