My Daddy January 18, 2008

Tomorrow (Jan. 19) would have been my father’s 53rd birthday. He died of prostate cancer in summer of ‘06, only 13 months after being diagnosed. In honor of him, I’m posting the eulogy I gave at his funeral.

My daddy was a great daddy.

My daddy taught me. I had a set of custom-made golf clubs by the time I was three. I learned to bat a ball and make car noises by the age of two. Not too many girls can say that. Dad wanted me to learn the things that he loved to do so that we could spend time together.

My daddy was goofy. I can’t even count the number of silly songs that my daddy wrote about me. He would substitute my name into oldies lyrics and make up weird rhyming ditties, just to make me laugh. He would dance me around and make funny faces and even let me dress him up. As you know, his antics were part of what endeared him to so many people.

My daddy affirmed me with words. “You’re beautiful,” my daddy said to me during his March stay in the hospital. What dear words those were to me—even though lots of daddies probably think them, measurably less actually say them out loud to their daughters.

My daddy thought I was the smartest girl alive. He often told me I should be President of the United States. Dad had no idea what being President entailed, but he literally just believed I was “smart enough” to do anything. Dad always wanted me to do my best. Even when I was ready to give up on golf or give up hope of ever learning to ride a 2-wheeler without training wheels, he would tell me I could do it, and that would give me the encouragement I needed to persevere.

My daddy hugged me. Again, not all daddies are willing to show physical affection to their daughters, and my dad would hug me, even in public.

My daddy treasured me. Even when I had done things to disappoint him, I knew that after my punishment, he still loved me deeply. I never had reason to doubt.

My daddy loved Jesus. This is most important to me, because I know the list I’ve just given you of all the things my daddy did for me would be much shorter if he hadn’t come to know and trust Jesus. Dad was never perfect. He was good, very good, but he knew that no matter how good he was, that would not get him to heaven. “For all have sinned; all fall short of God’s glorious standard,” says Romans 3:23. And Ephesians 2 says that it is by God’s grace (a free gift), not what we do, that gets us to heaven. Romans 6:23 tells us that the wages (what we have earned because of our sin) is death. We deserve death, the grave, and hell. But what Jesus did, through the shedding of his blood on the cross, is set us free from that sin. Romans 3 goes on to say, “Yet now God in his gracious kindness declares us not guilty. He has done this through Christ Jesus who has freed us by taking away our sins.” Even though Dad was not perfect, he knew that he was set free from sin and able to go to heaven because of Jesus. He is there now because of Jesus. The reason Dad was so loving and kind and good was because he was so THANKFUL to be set free. His love for others was a way of giving thanks to God for the gift of salvation he had received. Dad’s love for you all is also an extension of that gift. And because of that gift, anyone who also chooses to accept God’s gift of grace will receive the same eternal life that Dad is enjoying now.