My Superman and His Cape

Growing up, daddy was superman. He was strong, funny, and loving. Daddy had no problem completely embarrassing my sister and me with his goofiness in front of our friends. Our response was always whiny protesting and begging him to stop, but secretly loving it because our friends loved him for it. Of course, we would never admit to this in front of him. He taught us that friends will come and go, but we will always have each other. He taught us to say "mmm, mmm, thank you daddy" when he cooked something or took us to a restaurant that we complained about before even trying. He was the kind of father that dropped everything to drive four hours late at night to where I was because my heart had just been broken. He was the typical dad that wanted to be cleaning his gun when a new guy came over to take me on a date. But at some point, when his struggles became more than he could bear, I stopped learning things from him and actually became the one who taught him about the different aspects of God's love and forgiveness. I cherished and valued everything I learned from a father who loved me absolutely and unconditionally, but I still yearned for that father who imparted Godly wisdom to his children.

The weekend before daddy died, I had the opportunity to spend more time with him, just the two of us, than I could even remember and it happened to be on Father's Day. I was a bit nervous because so much had happened between us in the last year and a half that caused us to be on two totally different pages. Because of that, our conversations lessened to about once a week, 30 second phone calls checking to see how I was and wishing each other a good week or weekend. What do you talk about with a father who you no longer have much in common with, but love with all your heart? How do you convince a man so overcome with regrets of the past that he had so much to offer for the present and future? How do you look past the obvious decline of one's health and speak to the heart who always wanted to help others even when he hardly had anything to give?

I didn't have those answers that morning. In fact, it was all I could do to focus on driving the four hours north instead of completely breaking down after seeing him, knowing he didn't have much time left. I prayed. I prayed that God would turn it all around. I prayed that those next few weeks daddy was facing would be a turning point for him. I prayed that I was just being fearful and not actually seeing what was in front of me. Then daddy asked me a question: What would you do if you had 20 million dollars?

This question was not uncommon. Ever since I can remember, we have always asked this to each other. I knew his answers and he knew mine, yet we still spoke as if we had never had that conversation. Always, he would begin with, "After I give 10% back to the Lord..." This wasn't the first time I heard that, but something resonated in me that never had before. I have never been a happy tither. When I actually did give my 10%, it was out of obligation because the Bible said so. Here was my daddy, completely broken and facing a very difficult task, who had close to nothing left, and he not only chose to, but delighted in giving his 10% back to Lord before he even had it. Without even knowing it, daddy taught me a Godly lesson that completely shifted my perspective on tithing. From that lesson, I also experienced a greater measure of God's faithfulness because He knew that was the one thing I was yearning for from my daddy. Even though God didn't turn things around in the way that I wanted Him to, He is still so faithful and so good because He gave me my heart's desire on the last day I spent with my daddy. I learned something of the Lord that I never knew before and it was because of daddy's heart.

Looking back, I now see so many things about who daddy was that I never saw or fully realized before. Therefore, I am still learning from him just by him being the loving, devoted, giver that he was. My superman always had a broken cape until now. I didn't see it, but his cape was never broken, just not complete in a way that I thought it should be. Daddy always had his cape because he always loved no matter what. That is what I am learning from him. I choose to love like he did, which was how Jesus told us to love.

"Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other."

John 13:34-35