Father's Day 2007

Last Sunday was Father's Day in Brazil. Sunday night one of my friends said, "Every day is Father's day!" He's right you know. At least for me it is. I have a great wife and family. I have great brothers and sisters-in-law and a great sister and brother-in-law. I have a great father and mother-in-law! I have great daughters and sons-in-law. I have great (and very cute) grand kids. I am blessed! Why me? I have often asked that question. Why me Father!

Back in 1904, long before any of my present family was even thought of, Andrew Jewell married young Lorene Drahner (ever hear of Drahner Road in Oxford?). That young couple had all of the potential in the world. Andrew came from a fairly well to do farming family, Lorene was also from a well to do farming family and a young school teacher. Their first child was born on Valentines Day in 1907. Little Clyde Austin nearly died in his first month. He wasn't a healthy boy by any means but he grew stronger and survived. 1918 through 1920 over 20 million people worldwide died in the Spanish flu epidemic; among them, Clyde's grand parents and his father, Andrew, all within a span of 24 hours. All died without a saving knowledge of Christ. Clyde, then 13, survived. It was sometime after that, while conversing with an aunt, that he found the Savior. That simple conversation was the beginning of my yet future blessings.

Dad later met Venna Ardis Forshee (she always hated her name). She too was a young, cute, believer. They were married on May 1, 1930, just six months after the the Black Tuesday stock market crash of October 1929. Dad's first Father's Day came in June of 1933 just days after the birth of his first son Albert Murray. I wonder what was going through his mind as he held that little bundle in his arms while staring the Great Depression smack in the face.

Dad would celebrate a total of 60 Father's Days in his lifetime. During those years he grew in his faith and in his love for his Savior. He faithfully took his kids to church. He prayed for us. He worked hard to provide for us. He made sure that we knew that a relationship with God was important. I remember one Sunday in particular. I must have been about 10 years old at the time. I didn't feel like going to church so I feigned sickness. "Dad, (wheeze, cough, cough) I don't feel well. I think (cough, cough) I'll stay home this morning." My dad looked me in the eyes, as if he had seen right through my imitation illness, and he said, "Mike, this decision is between you and God!" A cold chill went up my spine as I pondered that terrible thought. I wasn't fooling anyone. I was lying to God! Wow!

I went to church that Sunday morning, and have pretty much every Sunday morning and evening since that dreadful day. Why? My father's love. My father loved me and he loved God. I can guess that he winced that Sunday so long ago when he left a very important decision in the hands (or mind) of a ten-year-old boy. But that decision helped me to grow in my understanding of what the "fear of the LORD" was about. And it helped cement the idea that worshiping God was a very serious matter.

I was reading in Joshua 24 just yesterday. Joshua didn't give his family a choice. He had already been through a lifetime of wandering and fighting because of bad decisions by the children of Israel. He did, however, give the Israelites a choice. He said, "And if it seem evil unto you to serve the LORD, choose you this day whom ye will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD" (Josh 24.15).

Is that your prayer Dads? It is mine. Thanks dad... thank you Father! Happy Father's Day.