Thursday, June 06, 2013

A Living Faith

This week marks the one-month passing of my Dad.  Some days it feels like it was months ago, other days it feels like only yesterday.  When people ask how I'm doing, I tell them I have my good and bad moments.  You never truly get over missing someone, but I always find comfort in knowing where he is and that I'll see him again.  

I've reflected a lot on the characteristics I inherited from my Dad.  He was an excellent leader.  I only hope to be a fraction of the leader he was.  Anything I know about leading people, and doing it effectively, I learned from my Dad.  He was an amazing teacher and speaker.  There are times when I wish I had an audio or video of him teaching or speaking as a reminder.  He had a booming voice that required no amplification.  I love to teach, and speak.  The biggest fear of most people (next to death) is public speaking.  Although I do get some butterflies, I love doing it.  I'm the anomaly.  I chalk that one up to my Dad also.  

Every time he would speak at a meeting or event, he always closed with the same poem..."A Living Faith."  It became such a signature for him that my Mom had the poem made into a beautiful print that hangs in my home today.  Dad had meticulously planned his funeral - down to the Scriptures he wanted read (in the King James Version) and a cassette tape (yes, cassette) with the two songs he wanted played.  But I asked Jeff, the pastor who did his service, if he could read this at the end of his sermon.  It's how Dad closed out every time he spoke.  It was a poem that summed up his faith that would speak to churched and non-churched alike.  Now, this poem has become even sweeter...

I've dreamed many dreams that never came true
I've seen them vanish at dawn.
But I've realized enough of my dreams, thank God,
To make me want to dream on.

I've prayed many prayers, when no answers came,
Though I waited so patient and long,
But answers came to enough of my prayers
To make me keep praying on.

I've trusted many a friend who failed
And left me to weep alone,
But I've found enough of my friends to be true
To make me keep trusting on.

I've sown many seeds that fell by the way
For the birds to feed upon,
But I've held enough golden sheaves in my hands
To make me keep sowing on.

I've drained the cup of disappointment and pain
And gone many days without song,
But I've sipped enough nectar from the “Rose of Life.”
To make me want to live on

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

My husband has had a copy of this poem since 1965 when his mentor, Les Smith, a country club manager, gave it to him. This year I decided to write it in crossstitch. I am about to finish it as a gift.

The only part that's missing, is the author's name. I would love to add it to the poem.

Thank you,
Isabella Caugh