Posted By Jennie Chancey on June 16, 2013
Many of us are blessed to be able to look back on wonderful memories of growing up with godly fathers. That’s not the case for a lot of people, though. For those who didn’t have a good relationship with their father growing up–words of comfort:
James Michael McDonald, IV died this week. My father was 71. He was a salesman.
In high school, I read Arthur Miller’s 1949 play, Death of a Salesman. The play resonated with me. The challenges of family life presented in Miller’s classic tale mirrored many of my own personal experiences. It was as if I knew the Loman family personally: Willy and Linda, Biff and Happy. In a way, I did.
If the dictionary offered a pictorial definition of the word dysfunctional, you would find a copy of our family photo. But then again, that may be a challenge; since I don’t recall our family ever having taken a photo together.
Ours was a home of self-inflicted poverty, of alcoholism, of abuse, of anger – a house filled with chaos. Most of the memories I have of my childhood are traumatic and painful. I do not remember much joy or love, especially from my father. Ours was a family without Christ….
Many Christians have fathers who exhibited honor and commitment throughout their lives: handing down wisdom and godly character traits to their children. How thankful they should be for such a precious Christian heritage—a sweet gift of God. But through God’s perfect providence, this was not my life.
However, I can state just as emphatically that I am blessed—and I am thankful for my father. No, he didn’t live Christ before me; he didn’t live faithfully or sacrificially in any way. But, by God’s grace, he did teach me.
Read the full piece at THIS LINK.