Every picture tells a story
Joseph Ralph Hamilton, The Continuous Motion Press
I have a photograph that I cherish. It is a shot of my father standing next to the Continuous Motion Press machine he designed. My father was an engineer who loved glass-forming machinery. He developed the CMP, which was the fastest glass forming machine in the world at the time. Much of the design was completed in our garage at his drawing table. Night after night, on a table that was nearly half as wide as the room, brightly lit with a long swingarm drafting light, he added lines to this drawing. Each stroke of the drafting pencil was carefully measured and meticulously placed. Small piles of spent eraser dust dotted the smooth vellum. There were obviously as many mistakes as successes. But after several years, the drawings became reality on the factory floor. It was about twelve feet tall and ten feet across. The behemoth was an inspiring sight to behold. You might still have some tableware, or Corning Ware made on my father’s machine.
I was also one of my father’s drawings. From the time I can remember, I nearly worshiped the ground upon which he walked. I wanted to be like him in every way. To me, because of his creative and inventive capacity, it was like having Thomas Edison as a father. Sometimes I wondered if I had gotten in the wrong line before being born. I had none of his skills or inclination which required math, algebra, trigonometry, and an inventive mind.
Nevertheless, I wanted to be the kind of dad that he was for me. He took me fishing, taught me how to change the oil and brakes on a car, showed me how to shoot a shotgun, and how to dress classy. He taught me how to mow a lawn and assemble a slot car and lay out a train track. Dad gave me the gift of laughter and a sense of adventure. His modeling taught me how to love my wife. And yes, he also taught me a few not-so-good things. He was, after all, very human.
The final years of life for my father were tough. He was dying of emphysema, the disease that finally took his life. But through those years, my father was far more inclined towards God, and he became a as some call it, a “prayer warrior.” I can still see him in his rocking chair, Bible and prayer list in hand, gasping for air. I, too, had found my way back to God about the same time, and we shared some exceptional moments in those last days.
My last memory of Joseph Ralph Hamilton was at Community Hospital in the Intensive Care Unit. During my “prodigal” years, dad and I didn’t get along very well. My hair was long, and my ole man hated it. I listened to Black Sabbath, Alice Cooper, and Uriah Heep, a far cry from Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. I got into fights, drank lots of alcohol, smoked dope, and was a generally foolish young man.
However, when the Holy Spirit drew both my father and me back to God, dad and I became great friends. Now our earthly friendship was drawing to a close. Amidst the beeping of life-support machinery and swishing of oxygen being forced into his lungs, dad sat up on the side of the bed. Hunched over with his hands on the side of the bed to support his frail figure, He called me over and spoke the last words my father uttered to me. “Don, you have become my best friend.” It was like a real-life Hallmark movie! What a gift – a timeless gift beyond words! Or, as some say, “You couldn’t make this stuff up.”
I think my father would be pleased with the drawing he produced in me. Some of it would probably look like a self-portrait. It would have many of the same qualities and flaws that he saw in the mirror. But most importantly, he would see that the faith he possessed, even in the most challenging times of his life, is now part of my being as well.
My father has now been gone for thirty-nine years, and yet he is still an active force in my life. So, dads, please take note. You are leaving a legacy in the lives of your children that will never leave them as long as they live. Carefully consider the design you are creating. The product you have developed might bring you great joy in the waning years of your life. It might also cause you great pain.
I sometimes see the lines I am drawing in my precious daughters, and I pray, “God, please give me the wisdom to measure well and the courage to follow the Master Pattern. Like my father before me, I am weak. I need Your strength and guidance. For the blessings you’ve already granted through my children, I thank You. If I do nothing else of value in life, let the drawing I am making in my children reflect You.”
My daughters are all adults and lead exemplary lives of their own now. My greatest joy is that they all love and serve Jesus. It is said that parents give wings to their children to fly away on their own. Perhaps that is true, but I’ve learned that my influence upon them remains as the father of older children. I sometimes reflect that my role in their lives is even more critical than when they were children. In my case, after my wife passed a few years ago, I think the significance of my influence in the lives of my children increased noticeably.
It is good to honor both our parents. Of the Ten Commandments, only one has a promise linked to it. with a promise is to honor your father and mother, that it may go well with you. (Exodus 20:12) I am absolutely certain that God, not Hallmark, invented Father’s and Mother’s Days. And I’m glad He did.
Odds are reasonably good that some of you did not have an honorable father. I pray that God sends someone into your life to fill that vacuum. Perhaps you could be that figure for someone in need. Many fathers are not blood-related; but they are truly heart-related. When I married Gail, I inherited another great dad, Paul Nevel. He filled the gap of losing my biological father with all the love and Godly example any father could produce. I am eternally thankful that he shared his precious daughter with me. Both of my earthly fathers have the pleasure of knowing that all of their children love and serve God.
Some dads- as if scoring or rating were even possible - were only maybe 50, 60, or perhaps 70% “good.” Grace might be a gift for flawed pops. Grace, and a good dose of remembering how far we all miss the Mark. And, if you are one of those imperfect dads, welcome to the club, it is never too late to change, find forgiveness, and move forward as a parent. Perhaps a phone call, a visit, or a thoughtfully written letter is in order. Often the vaccine we need the most produces, not just antibodies but humility which allows us to move forward.
Jesus got along with His Dad well, and the Father of the Savior expected a lot from His Son. At least my dad never expected me to be perfect! Jesus’ biographers frequently mention that the Son of Man often stole away to enjoy personal time with The Ole Man. (no irreverence intended) Boy does that shine a new light on the term ole man! The Son talked a lot about His father, extolling His outstanding accomplishments and, more pointedly, emphasizing His characteristics of love, patience, kindness, and mercy.
Jesus painted a picture of a Father who loves all His children, including you and me. He wanted everyone to know about His Dad. It’s like every day was Father’s Day for Jesus. Perhaps that is a good idea for us too. What do you think?
Happy Father’s Day!
Live Inspired!
Don Mark
4 Fathers, don’t frustrate your children with no-win scenarios. Take them by the hand and lead them in the way of the Master. (Ephesians 6:4 The Message)
