Journal of Sacred Work

Sometimes years float by before we fully realize the impact someone has had on our life. Then one day we discover the connections between who we are and how profoundly others have influenced us. A conscious awareness arises from our depths, just as a flower pushes through soil to  blossom in the light of day.  Recently, I experienced this kind of epiphany in relationship to my father and my evolving spirituality.

Although my dad died in December of 1995, I am still discovering the pearls that he placed in my heart. Maybe it is because so much of what we learn and internalize is not about what people say but more about how they live.  I am grateful to my dad in countless ways; however, today I wish to share this insight with you as we celebrate our fathers on their day of special blessings.

As I reflect I think it is helpful to offer a little context. My Irish mother raised us kids in the Catholic tradition. My Swedish grandmother raised her only son in her Lutheran faith. When my parents married, sadly my paternal grandfather did not attend the wedding due to the perceived religious differences between our merging families.

 I recall mom accompanying us to mass on Sundays and dad always staying home. Often he teased us about leaving him with his unique sense of humor. After church, we’d stop by to visit my grandmother Kate, Aunt Mary and Uncle John. My father adored  Kate and mom's family visited our home often.  Occasionally, I might have questioned our family dichotomy but more often I just accepted life as it was.

During my teens and early twenties I drifted away from organized religion but God never left me. Instead, God has been a constant presence of guiding Love and a source of  strength amidst the challenges in life. I returned to church when I became a mother and desired  that our children might experience a foundation of faith.

Through the years, I’ve enjoyed being part of a faith community, singing joyful praise, and practicing in the tradition in which I was raised.  Yet, I see a unifying thread joining us one to another regardless of beliefs. Although some might find this objectionable, I am grateful and attribute this openness to my father. He offered me a window to see that there is more than one path that leads us to Love.

My father also taught me the meaning of hospitality. Perhaps, it was during WWII when he embraced as best friend a soldier of Japanese heritage when others were quick to shun.  Or the many people throughout life that were drawn into the circle of his friendship and fellowship in the grand celebration of life.

 I’ve learned that all of life is sacred. That one can worship as deeply in a cathedral of God’s trees, hear God's voice whispering on  the wind,  receive an affirmation of hope with each new day, experience Holy Communion in the breaking of bread when all are welcome at our table.  God is with us in the stillness,  chaos and confusion, the times of doubt and failures, moments of awakening love and forgiveness,  in every heart beat, and in each breath.

My dad had dreams that he lived and some that he passed on to us to live into our future. My wish for all fathers is that you dare to live your dreams. Whether you have fathered children or not, you are someone who has significantly influenced our lives more than you can ever know.  As father, son, brother, teacher, friend, lover, parent, child, mother, and more. We thank you as we  say,  God bless us all!  

~liz Sorensen Wessel