It took me a while to understand and to appreciate the fact that men are not like women. If I had known it when I first married Sweet William, I think it would have made both of our lives easier.
But I love it that they are different.
As I think of Father’s Day and the men in my life, I am thankful. So many have left their mark on me, have changed my life for the better, have shown me the face of God.
There are the pastor and choir director who encouraged this shy young musician to use her gifts in spite of her fear. There is the uncle who gave me money to help buy my first car and sent me on a trip to New York City free of charge. There are the ministers who preach the Word that cut like a sword and healed the wound and helped me grow. There are the deacons who take their role seriously, who visit the sick and shepherd the flock. There are the teachers who challenge me to think deeply, to question what I believe, and help me confirm what “thus saith the Lord” really means.
Men are focused. I love it that they can stay on one task and not veer off until it is complete, unlike me whose brain scatters from one thing to another to another until I wonder how anything gets accomplished.
Men are protective. I remember when my very young grandson, Ethan, was pretending to be in a battle. He looked at me standing there at the kitchen sink and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll save you.” His DNA is infused with a warrior spirit to fight for and take care of those he loves.
Men are courageous. It isn’t that they are unafraid. It is that they are willing to go check on that noise in the dark or to tread foreign soil for freedom’s sake.
Men are tender. I’ve seen them cry over a sad movie, trying to hide their sniffles. The tough exterior is just a covering for a soft heart where gentleness resides.
Men are strong. They exert their strength to lift heavy loads, to trudge off to work every day, to go the extra mile, to be there for their friends and families.
I come from a long line of good men.
My grandfather Charles Lockard was a minister of the gospel who paved the way for me disregarding the persecution. Yet he was one of the gentlest souls I ever knew.
My dad, John Rayhill, is a man who knows how to take care of the women in his life. He prides himself that he never let my mother take out the garbage. That was his job. He was always busy with something but he was never too busy to stop for me or one of the neighbor kids who needed a bike tire pumped up or something repaired.
My husband, Bill Wright, is my hero. He was a good provider until his health took him down. He fought for our marriage when everyone else gave up on it. He has endured so much pain and too many surgeries with courage. He still tries to look on the bright side, and he makes the effort to be kind to the hospital staff and learn their names, making him their favorite patient.
My son, Travis Wright, is funny and fearless. He has an infectious joy that draws people to him. He has been my Son of Consolation through many tough years. He is a faithful husband and a playful dad. He bravely left his hometown and moved his family to Oklahoma to pursue his dream (though I have not yet gotten over it).
I honor the men who stand for God, who take care of their families, who protect their children, who are determined to do the right thing even when it is hard. Men who go to war so I can be safe, who fight fires and keep the peace. Men who lead with courage and care. Men who put their lives in harm’s way for the sake of others.
Thank God for fathers who show their boys how to be good men, who treasure their daughters and teach them how a man should treat a woman. Thank God for fathers who love their wives and stick it out when it would seem easier to walk away. Thank God for fathers who love and care for other men’s children who have walked away. Thank God for fathers who discipline with love instead of anger, who set a high standard of living so that their children have a role model worthy of following. Thank God for fathers who get on their knees and pray every day, who take their children to church instead of just send them. Thank God for fathers who go to work, for fathers who know how to play, for fathers who teach right from wrong and walk their talk.
I love those men in my life: my precious going-on-91 Dad, my Sweet William, my son of consolation Travis. And there is still one more, our little man, Ethan, 10 years old. He is watching these good men, listening to their words. He will be influnced by their lives.
May he follow their footsteps.
“Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them.” –Deuteronomy 4:9