I must admit I love the NBA or any basketball for that matter. I have been a supporter of the Lakers since 1979. I enjoy all the skill, the courage and the personalities and yes, I do enjoy it when my team wins. But this just wasn't their year. They did extremely well but they came in second. In the minds of many second is just not very good at all. But, think about it. To come in second in the most elite basketball competition in the world is pretty extraordinary.
I'm just sad it is over. At least this year we have the Olympic competition. And there is always next year. The cry of the basketball-a-holic.
Father's Day in America
It's not on the same date as in Australia but it did remind me of this article I wrote a while back. Then I heard of Tim Russert's sudden death today and I thought I would publish the article again. Tim loved his father, Big Rus. In fact he wrote a best selling book about him. His reminisces about his father motivated me to write this article.
I was just listening to the radio in my car and Tim Russert, the host of Meet the Press, was on talking about his new book which is an account of his relationship with his father.
It struck me in two ways. It made me think of my own father and the things we did together and how he affected me. It also made me think of my heavenly father and how He has affected me.
Fishing. That’s what I think of when I think of my dad. Nothing fancy. Not even fishing poles. He would take my brother and I down to the Mary River near Gympie in Queensland, Australia. It was invariably on a Saturday morning. We had spent Friday evening digging up earthworms from dad’s garden to use as bait. Often this was more fun than the fishing. If the fishing lines weren’t up to scratch we would wind new line on to them. They consisted of an 8 inch piece of 2 x 1 wood with a notch in each end. We would wind fishing line on to them and tie on a sinker and a hook. For boys who spent very little time with their father it was such a great time.
In the shade of some gum trees we would throw our lines in and tie them to stakes and wait for them to go loose, a sure sign that a catfish had taken the bait. They were ugly fish and boy did they taste terrible unless you soaked them in marinade for days but that didn’t matter. We would sit there quietly (we didn’t want to scare the fish) and watch the water. Dad didn’t say much to us at the best of times unless he’d one too many at the pub. While we were fishing he said even less.
It didn’t matter. Dad was doing something with us and that made us happy. We didn’t analyse it. We just enjoyed it. Every few weeks we would beg dad to take us fishing. More often than not, he wouldn’t. He’d be too busy with work or golf. That didn’t bother us. He did love us and we felt it. After all he had taken us fishing.
When I was baptized into Christ the first thing I said to my father when I saw him was, “I have another father now.” I don’t know why I said that. I hadn’t planned to. It just came out. I think it hurt him though he didn’t show any signs of such pain.
My dad had always taught me that the only reasonable position an educated person could take was that there is a God who created and designed this world. He wasn’t a religious man. In fact he ridiculed organized religion. However he couldn’t reasonably let go of a belief in the creator God. His logic reminded me later in my walk with Christ of Romans 1:20 “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.” (Romans 1:20).
When you look at this world you learn something about your heavenly father. The Roman letter doesn’t speak of us learning about His existence although that can be easily learned from the creation. It says that it teaches us of the Father’s eternal power and divine nature. In considering that power and that nature I learn something of my relationship to Him.
He made me. Yes, I know He made all people but He did make me to. He made a world just right for me. He cares for me. Otherwise He wouldn’t have made me and provided for me.
Often I sit by the bank of the river of my life and God sits there with me. He doesn’t say much. I think that He thinks it would scare me. It probably would. In the silence I feel loved. He can’t explain too much to me but just His presence in my life makes me feel happy. I am one of three sons and I have three sons but this is not a male thing. God, the Father, walks very closely with us (Acts 17:27) and wants us to be utterly convinced of at least one thing. He loves us as no earthly father can love. He is never too busy with work or golf. He is totally and utterly devoted to me.
When you next look at the creation, whether it be a grand vista or the eyes of your children, see this message. He loves you. He cares. He has no vested interest in caring. You have nothing to offer Him that would benefit Him and yet He loves you passionately. He cares because that is who he is. He is love.
When this realization hits you, there is only one thing you can do. Worship Him. Bow down. You are in the presence of God, the Father. This is holy ground. Bow down and worship your Father. He loves it when you do that. He doesn’t need it but He loves it.
“The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17
Does this make sense to you? I don’t know about you. All I know is that it came to me as I was thinking about my Father.
I was just listening to the radio in my car and Tim Russert, the host of Meet the Press, was on talking about his new book which is an account of his relationship with his father.
It struck me in two ways. It made me think of my own father and the things we did together and how he affected me. It also made me think of my heavenly father and how He has affected me.
Fishing. That’s what I think of when I think of my dad. Nothing fancy. Not even fishing poles. He would take my brother and I down to the Mary River near Gympie in Queensland, Australia. It was invariably on a Saturday morning. We had spent Friday evening digging up earthworms from dad’s garden to use as bait. Often this was more fun than the fishing. If the fishing lines weren’t up to scratch we would wind new line on to them. They consisted of an 8 inch piece of 2 x 1 wood with a notch in each end. We would wind fishing line on to them and tie on a sinker and a hook. For boys who spent very little time with their father it was such a great time.
In the shade of some gum trees we would throw our lines in and tie them to stakes and wait for them to go loose, a sure sign that a catfish had taken the bait. They were ugly fish and boy did they taste terrible unless you soaked them in marinade for days but that didn’t matter. We would sit there quietly (we didn’t want to scare the fish) and watch the water. Dad didn’t say much to us at the best of times unless he’d one too many at the pub. While we were fishing he said even less.
It didn’t matter. Dad was doing something with us and that made us happy. We didn’t analyse it. We just enjoyed it. Every few weeks we would beg dad to take us fishing. More often than not, he wouldn’t. He’d be too busy with work or golf. That didn’t bother us. He did love us and we felt it. After all he had taken us fishing.
When I was baptized into Christ the first thing I said to my father when I saw him was, “I have another father now.” I don’t know why I said that. I hadn’t planned to. It just came out. I think it hurt him though he didn’t show any signs of such pain.
My dad had always taught me that the only reasonable position an educated person could take was that there is a God who created and designed this world. He wasn’t a religious man. In fact he ridiculed organized religion. However he couldn’t reasonably let go of a belief in the creator God. His logic reminded me later in my walk with Christ of Romans 1:20 “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.” (Romans 1:20).
When you look at this world you learn something about your heavenly father. The Roman letter doesn’t speak of us learning about His existence although that can be easily learned from the creation. It says that it teaches us of the Father’s eternal power and divine nature. In considering that power and that nature I learn something of my relationship to Him.
He made me. Yes, I know He made all people but He did make me to. He made a world just right for me. He cares for me. Otherwise He wouldn’t have made me and provided for me.
Often I sit by the bank of the river of my life and God sits there with me. He doesn’t say much. I think that He thinks it would scare me. It probably would. In the silence I feel loved. He can’t explain too much to me but just His presence in my life makes me feel happy. I am one of three sons and I have three sons but this is not a male thing. God, the Father, walks very closely with us (Acts 17:27) and wants us to be utterly convinced of at least one thing. He loves us as no earthly father can love. He is never too busy with work or golf. He is totally and utterly devoted to me.
When you next look at the creation, whether it be a grand vista or the eyes of your children, see this message. He loves you. He cares. He has no vested interest in caring. You have nothing to offer Him that would benefit Him and yet He loves you passionately. He cares because that is who he is. He is love.
When this realization hits you, there is only one thing you can do. Worship Him. Bow down. You are in the presence of God, the Father. This is holy ground. Bow down and worship your Father. He loves it when you do that. He doesn’t need it but He loves it.
“The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17
Does this make sense to you? I don’t know about you. All I know is that it came to me as I was thinking about my Father.
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