He Knows

“He knows.” he quietly told me. “He knows.” It was all that my dad said, but it was enough. My heart pulled in those comforting words and I let the comfort wash through me which ended with a small, satisfied smile on my face. I could tell by the look on his face, with tears beginning to well in his eyes, that he was moved.

It was my own secret of importance. No one else knew, or needed to know. I had invited my folks to Christmas Eve service at my church a few years ago, but my dad had come down with a cold and we thought it best not to go.

 

“It’s ok, I told them. “We can listen to the sermon on the radio at home.” So from the comfort of their kitchen, we listened. Dad and I sat at the kitchen table as Mom busied herself about the kitchen. She was listening, but this enabled her to get some last minute Christmas preparations done as well.

I love my church and I have every confidence in my pastor’s teaching, but for some reason I was also eager to hear what my dad thought of his teaching. I knew my pastor was known to be a gifted teacher, and I had long absorbed every thing he taught, but for some reason I wanted to know what my dad thought. My church, with a worship band complete with guitars and drums, is a bit more modern than what my folks are used to - their church and upbringings being formal, and well...“old-fashioned.” I had warned my folks, “My church is just a tad bit more modern than what you are used to.”

Throughout my life, I had always used everything my dad had taught us as kids as a moral compass for my adult life. He has always been my filter. What did Dad think about this, or what would Dad say? I would ask myself.

In conversation a while back with my youngest sis, about our dad’s spot-on discernment, I had said with a laugh, “There is only one time I disagreed with Dad on this [a certain issue] but when everything finally played out, I found out he was right after all.”

My dad sees things through the light of truth and he walks a circumspect path that rarely leads one astray. Now, I am not putting him on a pedestal…ok, well maybe just a little; he is my dad after all. But I do know he is not always right; no one is or can be. But my dad is a very wise soul and what he thinks on any number of issues has always been of utmost importance to me.

My secret on this evening wasn’t necessarily about me wanting confirmation on whether my pastor was a good pastor or not, I already knew that. This was simply about wanting to share my church with my folks and hopefully hearing my dad’s approval. On this Christmas Eve, what was important to me was to learn what he thought of my pastor’s teaching. I knew I was in a rock solid church, but I guess I wanted him to know.

On this special evening I understood (because I understand my dad and sometimes it’s as if I can peer into his heart) that it wasn’t simply the age old message that he had heard for over 80 years now that had brought those tears to his eyes. It was about the fact that there was someone – and that yes, his daughter had found someone even though amidst worship with guitars and drums – still preaching that age old Gospel message; complete with an old-fashioned altar call.

He never said a word about the “just a tad bit modern worship”. He never said a word about the oft times joking and the casual way in which my pastor delivered his sermon. He only looked at the
heart-felt, “spot-on” message. There would be no judgment here. No unwarranted criticism of things one might not be used to; not as long as there was an accurate Biblical message. No, no predetermined judgment when one can "peer into a heart" simply by hearing a Spirit-lead message.

He knows. My daddy just knows.

            "The Spirit Himself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the Children of God:"
                                                    ~Romans 8: 16