My dad is a very absolute-faith kind of guy. He’ll stop you mid conversation to bow his head, hold your hand and pray to thank God for the good traffic, the safe landing, the on-sale purchase, and even the not-so-good things like the gloomy weather, a lost item – basically anything and everything. He sincerely believes the God of the bible lives and works today, in our practical and daily lives, even in the smallest of things. 

I used to think that my dad was the weirdest, most pathetic person. Either that or he’s the real deal of a “holy man”. But for sure, he’s nothing in-between. Growing up, I would see him clutch his bible, open it, and read it everywhere we went – the supermarket, the mall, in the car. I was embarrassed to be his daughter, almost ashamed. Like, do you really have to try to preach the gospel to the cool jocks at U of T in broken English? Do you have to preach the gospel to the friends I bring home, for that matter? Do you have to pray so much, talk about Jesus so much, read your bible so much? But no matter how much it bothered me, a part of me was always challenged by his faith. As I lived like there was no God in high school, at the back of my mind my dad’s life was a reminder that maybe God is real. Maybe the bible is true.  And if it is, my dad might be the least crazy of us all. 

Fast forward 15 years and here I am. My dad still does the same things he did then – praying mid convo, thanking God for anything and everything, reading his bible at the supermarket and the shopping mall, on the airplane. But I’ve also come to recognize his amazing humble character. In my whole life, I’ve never once heard him complain, never even heard him say “I’m hungry” or “I’m cold” or “I’m tired”. I’ve never heard him talk bad about anyone. He’s always willing to take the blame, willing to give anyone who asks for a ride, willing to stay up the night to pray for that one person. He always says sorry and thank you first, always says “I’ll pray for you” and actually does.  Perhaps he hasn’t been the most successful in ministry (his congregation is made up of 3 families now). Perhaps he’s not the greatest conversationalist, though he tries his best. Perhaps he’s not particularly bright or handy or charismatic. But he loves Jesus and has faith as pure as gold. He’s the rarest gem of a man I’ve ever known and today I’m so proud to call him my dad. 

Daddy, thanks for being crazy for Jesus. I hope one day I can be as crazy as you.