My childhood giant
I remember as a young boy that I stood in wonder as I looked up to a man that seemed 7 foot tall. He worked hard with his hands and lived with the heart of a lion. His love for his family took him to two and sometimes three jobs to make sure food and fun was a regular part of their lives. He was in my eyes the strongest man in the world. There were no degrees on his wall and few people called him sir. His pay at times was small but his salary was the joy in knowing he was doing what he had to for his family.
Over the years I watched as this giant of a man was stricken down time and time again as his body failed him. His mind still filed with a dream of seeing his children at their best and led by the hope that he would see each of his children rise to their potential.
Over the years I have fought many battles and faced many struggles. My dreams at times felt like unreachable goals. My heart has been crushed by the wounds inflicted by those who could not see or hear it. When the struggles seems unbearable and doubt tempts me to see my weaknesses and not my strengths I remember that giant of a man with calloused hands that never stopped no matter the odds and I press on.
Some grow up on the right side of the tracts but we grew up on the wrong. Some had the resources to go where ever and when ever their resources could take them we had not much more than our dreams. Our conditions were difficult and many times it was way too hot in the summer and way too cold in the winter but our dreams kept us moving forward.
Today I still stand amazed at the struggles of little education and resources that my father was able to overcome. Did he give me an education? Did he give me resources? Did he place a silver spoon in my mouth? The truth is he gave me none of these things but what he gave me was so much more than any of that he gave the ability to persevere in tough times. Never in my childhood did I ride in a new car nor live in a new house but I grew up in a wonderful home. He kept it a secret, he never let us know how tough it was to provide for us, and he made it look so easy.
Way up in his seventies he is much slower now and he is weak and struggles to keep his balance. He sleeps more than ever and it is easy to see his struggles on his face.
As I sit here today thinking about my father I smile. I smile because I realize that he has given me more than money could ever buy. He gave me a drive to see my dream come to fruition. He gave me the hope that all things are possible. He gave me the perseverance to fight every battle till the end. With all this the greatest gift he gave me was a love for the hurting and a compassion for the less fortunate. I hurt when others hurt, I weep when others weep, I bend down to the broken, I bleed with the wounded and I pray for those that cannot or will not pray for themselves.
There has never been a moment in my life that I was not proud of my father. There was never one second that I didn’t appreciate the price he paid to provide for me the ability to be who I am. Once while I was presented a sermon to a small group of people I noticed him crying. Why was he crying? It was pride. Although he was proud of me it cannot compare to the pride that I have for him.
My greatest hope in life is that one day my son’s will see and know my heart. I pray that they will have a heart for the hurting and walk in a spirit of compassion. If they weep for those that are wounded and if they sacrifice for the needs of others then they have captured who and what I am.
The greatest shock in my youth was when I realized that my father was only 5’6 and had very small hands and feet. I wondered what happened to that giant I called dad. Today I realize he is still there because it wasn’t his height or his weight that made him a giant to me…. It was the size of his heart. Thanks Dad.
Rodney


