Dear Dad,

Earlier this week I was thinking about how much I enjoy writing and how I've always appreciated that you enjoy reading my writing. I remember back in high school when I wrote a term paper related to the Jewish experience in WWII and you kept it to show someone (can't remember the exact circumstances) and that made me feel good and proud. Your affirmation has always meant a lot to me.

What I didn't realize back then was that my writing is actually a gift inherited from you. Yesterday I was in the mood to procrastinate, as I told you over the phone, and among other things I began to re-read some of your old prayer letters. You were (and are) a great written communicator. Not a year goes by that I don't pull out the letter you gave me as I departed Chile after my high school graduation. Now that I'm older, I understand that in writing you could express feelings that might not be spoken - and in this, too, I am your daughter. :)

This morning I was reading in 2 Corinthians and after our conversation yesterday (with yours and mom's dire predictions, I must add!) it was poignant to find myself in chapter 5. I copied verse 9 in my journal: "Whether we live in the body or move out of it, our goal is to be pleasing to him." 

Then I added these thoughts:

Thinking of Dad whose earthly tent is failing him, and whose life has reflected this goal. As a pastor and missionary he may not have experienced beatings and imprisonments (2 Cor. 6:5) but reading back over years of prayer letters and having observed closely his life and ministry, I know that distress, anxiety, hard work, sleepless nights (2 Cor. 6:4-5) he certainly has. The qualities people saw in Paul (verse 6) are reflected in Dad, which is why he is respected and loved. He is not perfect, but faithful.

In light of my earlier musings about our writing connection, I wanted to share this with you today. I have shed my tears this morning, but I am looking forward all the more to your visit later this year. I love you and thank God for the privilege of having you as my Dad.

Love,

Stephanie