A Father's Gift
How many of you have read a book to a child never to see that child again? How many of you have read to your own child? You may never know the impact one book can make. You just might change a life forever.
My dad is not an avid reader the way I am. He doesn't read just for the pure joy of reading. I didn't realize that until well after college for several reasons. One, my dad is an avid learner. Once a subject catches his attention, he will seek out as much as he can find on that subject, but the reason that changed my life was because he read to me.
I knew that when my dad got home from work, all I had to do was ask. It didn't matter how tired he was. He might groan on the days he was more tired than others, yet the answer was always the same, "Yeah, go get the book, kid." The book. It was always the same book, a book of Bible stories. I don't remember how he chose which story to read each day or if I chose the story, but I would climb up into his lap where he would read and explain the story to me. Anyone who knows my dad knows that he can give you some rather lengthy explanations at times, and this time it was perfect for me.
I knew the Bible stories from that book backwards and forwards, even if I didn't know them in order. I knew what a Christian was, what it meant to be a Christian, and how to become a Christian. I knew I was a sinner. I knew everyone sinned, including my mom and dad. Although, I only knew my parents to be sinners in concept; I wouldn't learn that lesson until a few years later, but that is a blog for another day.
Most importantly at the young age of six years, I knew that anyone who Jesus didn't save couldn't go to heaven, and there was only one other place to go. For six years my dad read to me from that book and explained it all. Then, one day while he was at work, it finally hit me. I had to do something! I needed Jesus in my heart! And, it couldn't wait long enough for Daddy to get home from work.
The next thing you need to understand was that at six years I was already the oldest of three, so you can imagine how crazy things got around our house from time to time.
I needed to become a Christian right then. It could not wait another minute, so I went into the kitchen where my mother was washing dishes. The water was running. My baby brother was in a walker screaming his head off, and my little sister was talking to my mom very loudly to be heard over the water and the screaming baby. I climbed up into a dining room chair and called my mother. I called and called and called, but I couldn't be heard over all the din.
Well, this was a matter of urgency, and Daddy had already told me exactly what to do. Technically I didn't need Mama's help, so I went to the living room (where it was much quieter). I knelt down at the couch, and that was the moment I became a Christian. I can't tell you the date it happened, because let's be realistic. At six years old, I probably had no clue what the date was. I can tell you the way the carpet felt rough and soft at the same time beneath my knees. I can tell you how smooth and cool the couch felt underneath my elbows, and I can tell you the joy I felt the very second I knew He was there inside my heart.
And, it all started with a single book and the willingness to read to a child. The next time you get the opportunity to read to a child, don't let it slip out of your grasp. You may never know the impact you have, or you might just see a single life changed forever.
