Do you know the legend of the Cherokee Indian youth's rite of Passage? His father takes him into the forest, blindfolds him and leaves him alone. He is required to sit on a stump the whole night and not remove the blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through it. He cannot cry out for help to anyone. Once he survives the night, he is a MAN. He cannot tell the other boys of this experience, because each lad must come into manhood on his own. The boy is naturally terrified. He can hear all kinds of noises. Wild beasts must surely be all around him. Maybe even some human might do him harm. The wind blew the grass and earth, and shook his stump, but he sat stoically, never removing the blindfold. It would be the only way he could become a man! Finally, after a horrific night the sun appeared and he removed his blindfold. It was then that he discovered his father sitting on the stump next to him. He had been at watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm. We, too, are never alone. Even when we don't know it, God is watching over us, sitting on the stump beside us. When trouble comes, all we have to do is reach out to Him.

Let's be more aware of all the choices, situations, twists and turns that brought us to this place right here and now. They May Be Miracles.

Friday, April 23, 2010

In His Own Words

My dad used to like to call us on the phone and say "hello," maybe a couple of other niceties, and then quickly hand the phone off to Mom so that she could speak with us.  There was always a method to his "madness" - he wanted us to have a close relationship with Mom and would make sure that he was the one to call us so that he could hear our voices too.  Sometimes he would call us on purpose when he knew we were gone or not available just so he could sing a message on our voice-mail, "...I just called - to say - I love you - I just called - to say I care - I just called - to say - I love you - and I mean it from the bottom of my heart."  This started happening mostly when we all had cell phones...including him.  Always a fan of toys (an engineer) he loved to play with remotes and phones and dvd players and anything that had buttons and lights.

Before cell phones, and before his Guillain Barre in 2002 (which he survived but it really messed up his body and mind and eyes - miraculously by 2003 one would have thought he was back to normal though if they didn't really know him well before) - before all of these things - he used to send us letters.  Long letters.  His letters were about things that concerned him...always about mankind, our faith, God, and our salvation.  I'm not sure what I did with most of his letters - they were sent to me while I was in college and much of that time is a blur.  However, I did find one of his letters in a photo album the other day.  I thought I'd post it here today.  I'm sure he would have blogged had the Guillain Barre not ruined him - probably since my mom was a great secretary and typist he would have dictated his blogs to her and had her type them...I can actually picture that more...LOL!!  But he didn't know anything about blogs...just letters.  So here's his official, one and only blog entry (unless I find other letters somewhere someday):

Well, there you go, Pop.  I love you.  I'm thinking you had a hand in me finding this would have loved to blog!!!


Kerri said...

{sniff} What a beautiful post! What an awesome dad...he sang to you!! That is so cool. Thanks for stopping by my blog!

I have myasthenia gravis, but I know all about Guillane Barre...I'm so sorry your dad had to go through that.

Have a wonderful day!

LibbyLibbyLibbyLibbyLibby said...

So sweet, so beautiful! Thank you so much for sharing that! What a neat dad!!!!

May Be Miracles said...

I have followed your blog for a little while...I know you struggle with MG - such a roller coaster - you have such a strong faith and you are very inspiring. I'm not good at reading every post - but I try to catch up with a few posts every couple of weeks (where does the time go???).
My dad sang in a military choir and other choirs - he was a wonderful singer and loved singing so so so much! I can still hear his voice in church sometimes.

Take care and God Bless...Dustine

May Be Miracles said...

LibbyLibbyLibbyLibbyLibby, dad was a sweet man indeed. Take care and God bless...Dustine

Robin said...

I guess blogs are the letters of the future..or maybe emails are the letters of the future..and blogs are the daily journal entries..I m not sure but thats beautiful about your Dad...Im not sure what your Dad suffered I will look it up..but it must have been hard to watch..I never knew my Dad but I can truly appreciate your relationship with yours...what a blessing..!

DUSTINE said...

I was thinking about that the other day...I guess our blogs are sort of there "forever" or for a very long time at least --- was thinking that my kids will eventually want to read my blog (yikes!...haha)! So yes, it's very cool to find a letter from my dad...sort of the same concept. If you are interested in reading about what happened with him I wrote about it here:
God bless...Take care...Dustine

Leslie, the Home Maker said...

Thank you SO much for coming by my 'home'!
I just loved reading this post about your dad and thought about how blessed you are to have him for a father.
I love how he said, 'for God so loved the world, can man do any less?'
He's right. So right.
Will have to ponder that today.
I also loved his tender heart when in the second letter, he says right off the bat, 'Crying today.'
What man admits that?
What a legacy of love your dad has left/is leaving.
I would follow your dad if he had a blog ;)
So nice to meet you!
I pray we become good friends :)
Blessings to you as you make your home today!
See you soon!

DUSTINE said...

Thank you so much for such a beautiful and loving comment! You are dad's heart was actually overflowing with love for his family and for God. He adored people in general and no one was a stranger.

Your blog is so inspiring...I really enjoy visiting you there!

I have become great friends with many "Leslie's" in my lifetime...there's something about the name that makes all of you pretty amazing people. I'm glad to have this opportunity to get to know yet another wonderful Leslie!