Day 200? That's extraordinary! We're 200 days into the year. It is also my dad's 95th birthday, no doubt being celebrated in the heavenly realms by all of our loved ones who have gone on before.
My father wasn't that big on birthdays. He was shy. He didn't love attention. He had this adorable smile he would flash at times like birthdays--a kind of long-suffering smile, like he was glad his family loved him, but he couldn't wait for the celebration to be over and the spotlight to turn on someone else.
My dad had a big heart. He knew about compassion and kindness. He also knew about hard work and long hours. And best of all, he knew about love and family and faith.
My mom used to say he had the heart of a cowboy in the body of a farmer. He may have yearned to be riding a horse on a mountainside, but he stayed at home and worked the farm and raised a family and served the Lord. My father saw that as a rather average life.
I saw it as rather extraordinary.
Happy birthday, Dad. I miss you. Have Mom give you a hug for me!
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