Dad

If you know my dad, you know he loves the Lakers. I can remember him watching games when A and I were young - seeing Pat Riley, with his slick back hair, yelling on the sideline with his hands on his side. He has been a fan of the purple and gold prior to my conception. He rooted for them during the Bird vs Magic era, Kobe and Shaq duo, and of course the Kobe years. He has been a constant fan - taking the journey from getting titles, not getting titles, player scandals, and coach changes. You know he's a true Laker fan because he doesn't like Boston - never has, never will. So last week's win was that much sweeter for him.

Aimee and I inherited that same devotion and love for LA teams. We also root for the Dodgers, UCLA, USC (except when they're playing against one another) Pac-Ten teams, the Clippers, and of course the Lakers. Beyond sports, dad has also instilled in A and I a love for the church and the people, a heart to see transformed lives, a desire to have a faith rooted in a firm foundation, stability, an appreciation for the corny. 

I recently had a very memorable moment with dad. I have been part of a renewal team at Venice. We are looking at what it will take to see true renewal, change, and a revival at church. We know what we want it to look like, but we have struggled with how to get there. At Annual Conference a few weeks back we heard Bishop Matt speak on the difference between a transformational church and a non-transformational church. After he finished I ran over to dad and we just hugged each other and cried - he knew what I knew - God had just dropped the answer we had been seeking right into our laps. It was a moment I will cherish forever. 

Many people long for a father to provide them with the basics - love, support, encouragement, guidance. Nowadays, such a man is hard to come by. I feel so unworthy to not only have a father who provides me with these, and a million other things, but also a father who I can serve Jesus alongside with. I thank Jesus for my dad. For his gentleness, love, and constant support; for attending every single one of our volleyball games - home and away, for cooking us breakfast when we were really young, for tucking us in each night, for going through the effort to surprise me with the pink bike, for holding me each time I failed my drivers test, for allowing me to make mistakes, for being home for family dinner every night, for not always throwing out his opinion but allowing me to just talk, for letting me walk to school in the fourth grade - and for following me at a distance in the car without me knowing, for getting the girls expelled from school who chased me home, for trying the spank on his leg first before giving it to us, and for continuing the legacy that grandpa began of loving Jesus in all things. 

He is a man of all men, and a father of all fathers. Happy Father's Day, dad.