My dad is coming up to his eighty-ninth birthday in September. I was recently going through old photo albums with him looking for pictures of the house where he was born for a blog about life in the Midwest. He was a cutie! He reminded me of my brother when he was small, and I know my dad would consider that to be the greatest compliment.
My father was a doctor. He left for work before I was up in the morning and didn’t get home until supper, but nearly every evening he led our family in worship. We sat on the couch and sang a few hymns from the old Inter-Varsity hymnal.