Last weekend, my great aunt gave me some letters my dad wrote to her while he was in college. He was an avid letter writer in the days before the proliferation of cell phones and email and internet, which happened to be his entire 44-year lifetime. In 1972, he hadn't met my mom, and our family was still several years from being formed. I finally had the time to read the letters today.
Bittersweet.
He writes like I write...or rather, I write like he wrote. The same words, the same phrasing. It was like having him back for just a few minutes and finally understanding more about him...and more about me.
Yes, bittersweet. I deeply miss him, but his letters tell of a life of great faith.
He was SOLD OUT for the Lord, which does not surprise me one bit. I totally lost it when I read the names of men he led to the Lord and discipled while at Penn State--I didn't know there were so many--and he simply mentioned them so my aunt could pray for their spiritual growth and for his ministry.
Then, I found the letter where he illustrated the plan of salvation so that my dear, sweet, slightly timid aunt could show one of her friends to the Way of Life. Verse after verse poured forth from his pen. He was IN THE WORD, and it was effective. I believe those words did not return void.
I know my dad better now than I did earlier today. I found that we have a few favorite Scriptures in common--verses I didn't find in my own devotions until after he went Home.
He could never have guessed that his daughter would read his letters 40 years after they were written--and 17 years after his Homegoing--and find truth and identity there.
This was a gift, a precious gift. And I am blessed.
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