Apparently today is some kind of memorial day for remembering people who we love who have died.

Here’s my Dad.

We barely spoke for 40 years, I’d been told he was a bad person.

God found me and changed my whole life, turned me away from a wasted life of sin. I decided to go and see Dad. God reconciles.

Dad smiled when he recognised me on his doorstep like the prodigal son coming home, and finally after all those years I had something good to tell him too. Here was my fiancee. You could be proud of me not ashamed.

In the short time we had I discovered my Father was a lovely man. We had one Birthday, one Fathers Day, one Christmas. Then he died. It might not seem much, but it meant the world to me, and by the smile on his face I think it did to him too. God restored all the years the locust had eaten. I took just one photo, the only photo I think I ever took of my Dad.

When they buried my Dad Ted, he went out to the song he sang to me as little boy. The people who chose that tune for the funeral exit didn’t know that, they never knew it was a favourite of his from so long ago and a secret laugh we had shared (because it also has funny rude words) when I was a very small boy. They had picked it out at random. It is a march. It was of course a victory march for him, God choosing it to let me know as my Father finally left the stage of life that there can be indeed victory in death, that God does know, He reconciles, restores and saves.

Thank you Jesus and thank you Dad.



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