The theme for Sunday Sharing this week is ‘What I remember most about Dad’.

“And there where cold winds howl into the mist of morning, fresh with autumn change, and leaves scurry on to warmer domains: in those mulled moments ensconced by family and fireplace, we remember all.” (Life beside the River by Thomas Crooke)

With dad, there’s always the expression of faith to remember. My dad grew up in a Christian home but never encountered God until middle life - and it wasn’t because of a crisis - just a deep encounter with God one day in a meeting. The significance of a personal faith was something I learnt in the many father-son sharing times we had, casual, instructive, sometimes too well-worn, yet heartfelt. There I also learnt to listen to heart and not just words; love, not just well-meaning intentions.

The faith I recall was of personal encounter that led to a life journey of seeking God. For him this meant leaving a job he had trained half his life for as a chartered surveyor, joining a church, then becoming a pastor, then later a missionary. In these transitions what I remember most is a deep humility and purposed conviction that there is more in life in what we can’t see than in what we can. A 200% universe that is underscored with purpose, meaning and design if we cared to look and if we dared to see. The point was, the cost is easy to calculate when you can see what you’re losing out: money, pleasures, prestige. But it’s the cost you can’t see, the possibilities in the other 100% of the unseen universe that can make life unsettlingly unfulfilled: the incalculable unknown potential of what’s missed, or lost, or left unclaimed.

And where the recollection of conversations meld into that expression of faith, it’s turned into a challenge to build something of greater significance. A legacy Mikayla and Matthew might themselves remember as something to treasure. Thanks Dad!