Shelburne: Memories of Fathers Can Bless Us

I’ve been writing newspaper and magazine columns for more than sixty years now. Since the magazine essays often have to be submitted two or three months in advance, I learned early on not to wait to pen major holiday columns. Otherwise I would find myself trying to conjure up Yuletide cheer when folks around me were getting ready for October goblins.

So, many years ago, I started writing most of my Christmas and Thanksgiving and Easter columns a year early. I put my feelings and reflections on paper when the spirit of that season was awake in my soul—when I wouldn’t have to fake it. And, although some of the resulting columns have been a bit dated, for the most part this strategy has worked for me.

I share this little secret with you to explain why I’m writing this Father’s Day column a year early. Yesterday was Father’s Day. A year ago. And it was a special day indeed.

Several of my associates blessed me by reflecting on blessings they received from their own dads. Reading or hearing their words transported me back to precious, life-changing times I got to spend with my dad. Back in my young years, I had no idea what an extraordinary man God had given me as a father, nor did I see even a hint of how much his love for the Lord and his vision for the Kingdom of Christ would shape my own life.

All day long yesterday my cell phone kept buzzing. My kids and grandkids who were too many miles away to join the local family members at our table that day still remembered me.

They kept texting or calling to wish me “Happy Father’s Day.”

Here at our dinner table I got to open gifts and read greeting cards.

Then, all afternoon, I got to answer calls and open texts that came literally from coast to coast. I spent that special day being told over and over, “Thank you,” and, “I love you.” That’s what Father’s Day is all about, isn’t it?

I couldn’t call my own father. We buried him beside our mother over two decades ago. But it doesn’t have to be Father’s Day for me to be grateful for him. Hardly an hour passes when something doesn’t remind me of the ways he shaped me and changed my world.

Thank You, Father, for my father. Gene Shelburne may be addressed at 2310 Anna St., Amarillo, TX 79106-4717 or at GeneShel@aol. com. Get his books or magazines at www.christianappeal.com.

His column appears weekly.