5 years ago today, my father died. I still remember the moment very well. Standing with my mother in the hospital corridor in Lakeland, receiving the news from the doctor.

I went to church today to thank God again for a good father. After last night's show, where folks shared some really painful stuff, I remembered again how fortunate I have been to have two good parents. My father loved me unconditionally. He did not express that in flashy or verbal ways so much as in a quiet life that provided immense stability and security. I never had to wonder where my father was - he always arrived home at 5:30 pm. He had few outside interests. His consistent presence provided a web of security and peace that I only later came to appreciate. He lived a modest life, shunning the public eye and seeking to serve God in a behind-the-scenes, simple way. In doing so, he passed on values much deeper than materialism. Finally, he reared me in a home without abuse and conflict. I did not appreciate that then, but after 20 years of pastoring folks who desperately craved that, I realize now just how blessed I was. My father had a deep, quiet faith. And in the end, that was his greatest gift to me.

While at church, I also thanked God for the last few weeks of my father's life. We got to spend lots of time together in his final days, and the experience humbled me in a way that I cannot express in words. I drove him and my mother from NC to FL so he could get back to his doctor, and the two days we spent on the drive (Dad did not want to go on interstates) were two of the most memorable and grace-filled days of my life. In the hospital, I trimmed my father's finger nails, shaved his face (he loved a good shave more than anything else), and simply sat with him as he prepared to die. It was humbling to honor and serve a man who had quietly served and provided for me my entire life, even when I was not aware of that.

So I went to church and pondered the idea that my father lives fully in the presence of God now. That Dad belongs to Him. And that I do too. I look forward to seeing him again across the river.