“One time, four of us boys were riding on the sideboards of
our old Model T,” said Uncle Clifford as he stood before the crowd at Dad’s 90th birthday party. One mention of the
family’s old Model T was all it took to hook the SUV-driving crowd into the
story.
Uncle Clifford, thoroughly enjoying the moment, continued, “One
of ‘em looked down at Jute and said - (y'all know his name is Julian, but I call him Jute), ‘Jute, where are your shoes?’ And then
Jute said, ‘Clifford ain’t out-growed ‘em yet!’”
The crowd howled with laughter – not just at the joke – but at
the WHOLE THING. Wrapped up in that one
little story were so many things to celebrate:
- My 90 year-old Dad has a healthy 93 year-old "big brother" who still remembers, with great clarity, their glory days of growing up down the dirt lane.
- They are the lone survivors of a family of 13 children that endured the Great Depression without their father, who was deceased at that point. They survived by pulling together, making do with what they had, making their own fun, and leaning into the promises of God.
- That family had 6 girls and 6 boys (one sibling died as an infant) – so OF COURSE there were four boys riding on the sideboards!
- We've buried 10 of their siblings through the years, and most of the spouses of those siblings – so funerals have been more plentiful than parties. But last night was a different deal. Last night was about celebrating LIFE while the honoree was still able to enjoy it. Every person there seemed swept up in the moment.
My two brothers and I, and our
better halves, stumbled and fumbled our way through the whole planning process
for this birthday party. (Thank God for
better halves!) Frankly, most of us had
no idea what we were doing! We only knew
that we wanted it to be a very special night for Dad. We had plenty of food and nice decorations. But I learned something really valuable when
it was all said and done.
I learned that what makes a 90th
birthday party REALLY great is the character of the 90 year-old himself. Dad was the reason the party was so
great. The Social Hall at Sardis Baptist
Church was filled to overflowing. Each
person there wanted a moment with Dad.
Each could have had a speaking part during the Roast, because each one
had a story to tell. Most could have
relayed a story to the crowd about a time when Dad helped them out, made them
laugh, encouraged them in some way, or brought them something fresh from his
garden or from his catfish pond. He’s
THAT guy. My Dad doesn’t have diplomas
hanging on the wall or a fancy house, but he knows what has eternal value. He’s been making deposits for 90 years in his
Kingdom account. Last night I realized
that my Dad is filthy, stinkin' rich.
One of the activities we did at
the party was to complete a Thumbprint Tree.
Ever seen one of those? It’s used
in lieu of a Guest Registry. It starts
with a drawing of a tree, with lots of bare branches. Our tree was skillfully and lovingly crafted
by my professional-artist-cousin, Joanne. I tell her all the
time that God has HER artwork hanging on HIS refrigerator!
As guests arrive, they place their
thumbprint on the tree and sign their name in it. Little by little, the tree takes on life and
fullness.
I didn’t know it at the time, but
God was weaving this blog post together from the very beginning of our party planning
process, weeks ago, when I first asked Joanne about drawing that tree. When I saw the completed
Thumbprint Tree, I got a huge lump in my throat. God brought this verse of scripture to my
mind from Jeremiah 17.
But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD;
whose confidence is in Him.
He will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It has no fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to produce fruit.
Dad certainly hasn't been shielded from "heat or drought" in this world. Among other things, he suffered the loss of his wife at an early age, leaving him two boys ( a teenager and a 9 year-old), and a 6 year-old GIRL to raise. But Dad just kept trusting in the Lord and placing his confidence in HIM - even when it was HARD. And from the looks of things last night, God is doing HIS part by keeping Dad's roots healthy. My stepmother takes great care of Dad, and an entire community surrounds him with TLC. And the fact that his Fingerprint Tree is now FILLED with "leaves" convinces me that Dad has truly "never failed to produce fruit." I'm unspeakably grateful to be his daughter.
A favorite preacher of mine said recently, "the value of a life will always be measured by how much of it you give away." Last night I saw through the eyes of the crowd just how valuable my Dad's life is... and he ain't done yet!
Take that thought with you as you start another week. In a culture that tries to measure our worth by the size of our house or the price of our car... truth says something different. So send your roots out by the stream this week and let God begin to fill you. There's nothing wrong with working toward a nicer house or a bigger car, but maybe the thing you can do this week to increase your true net worth THE MOST is to help a kid with his math, or make some phone calls on behalf of a friend who needs a job, or give a single mom an evening out by watching her kids. God's economy is different. My Dad gets it. Happy 90th Dad. I hope we do this again in ten years.
