The Pile

It has been almost a year since I have blogged. I don’t really know why. I guess every time I had and idea, or thought about sitting down and starting to type, something more urgent came up and the idea escaped me. So, when an idea came into my head today I thought I better sit down and get this one out.


As many Fridays as we can, Katie and I have happy hour over at some amazing friends of ours who offer many a hardworking soul a place to let out a sigh of relief when the work week concludes. This week, a topic of conversation was the perpetual “pile” that each of our households has in common. That stack that continues to grow with mail, magazines, and miscellaneous papers. Ours forms on a corner of our kitchen counter and often spreads like bacteria across large portions of the available surface area. It represents all of those things on our ever growing list that keep us constantly moving and thinking about the next thing to accomplish, the next bill to pay or the next social event we feel obligated to attend. That pile is really what we are trying to escape at our Friday happy hours. For a couple of moments we can act like our weekends will be full of relaxation, and that the end of the work week means the end of our hectic schedule until Monday morning rolls around. However, we all know that is simply a wonderful dream that makes reality look like a nightmare.

The kitchen counter isn’t the only place that I have a “pile.” There is one on the desk in my office, usually another one on my bedside table, and most definitely a pile in the backseat of my car. One fall day I decided to get rid of the pile forming like mold on the back seat of my car. I figured, “If I don’t know what is in this pile, I might as well just throw it away.” As I went to the trash can, something tugged at me to look through the pile in case there was anything really important that I may be tossing away on a whim. At the bottom of the pile was a crumpled up piece of Christmas themed stationary. I figured it must have been a note from my mom, but as I looked at the scribbled handwriting it was easily recognizable as a note from my dad. I think this may be the only note that I ever remember my dad writing, and I honestly don’t even remember receiving the note originally. I don’t know when he gave it to me, or how long it had been sitting at the bottom of the heap. It reads:

“ Son,

As you and Katie leave today, everyone will be in a hurry and rushing around. There will not be time for me to tell you how proud of you I am and how much I miss you.

I am very proud of your life in college and with Young Life. Your dedication is a true test of your character.

Your love for Katie reminds me of how your mom and I were in college. I wish for you the same happiness only love will bring to your life.

I had a wonderful Christmas this year. The gifts I received were a distant second to having you and Katie here with us.

I am sorry your mom and I live so far away from you now.

Have a great New Year and stay safe. I can’t wait to see you again.

I love you,

Dad”

When I read this as I was getting ready to throw it out, and as I make multiple attempts to transcribe it now, I am filled with great sorrow for being, “in a hurry and rushing around.” I would give anything to go back to that day, slow down, and take the time to just be with my dad.

On this Father’s day, please forget about the “pile.” Take the time to cherish the people you love, and simply rest together.

For those of you who have lost your father, whether through death or through the evils of this world, know that you still have a Father who loves you. A Father who never dies. A Father who will never hurt you, abandon you or not accept you for who you are.

In the Book of Exodus, as Moses is questioning his ability to lead, as he is becoming concerned about the “pile” of responsibilities God has given him, God says to Moses, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest (Exodus 33:14).” Not only does God understand our worries and wants us to succeed, He also desires to give us rest. He craves those times that I missed with my dad as I was rushing out the door to get back to College, or as I was quietly exiting the house to hang out with friends in high school when I knew he wanted to just hang out with me. God is that great father that my dad wanted to be to me. He is just waiting on the couch for me to come home and want to spend time with Him. Burn the “pile” if you have to, do whatever it takes to slow down and relish any time you have with your earthly and heavenly Father. Don’t wait until tomorrow.

Happy Father’s Day