A Father to the Fatherless
Psalm 68:5
A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling.
Memories are funny things. Even to this day, I will have flashbacks of times when I was a child, years and years ago. My sister was an excellent pianist, and my brother was a marvelous trumpet player. As they both were quite a jump older than me, I couldn’t play an instrument at my young age yet. In childlike fashion, I would try to sit to the right of my sister sometimes when she was playing and peck away at the high keys. It was a great agitation to her I’m sure, and eventually I would be told to stop as they were usually trying to play a new song or just play together for a while, enjoying their time in music. I would then find my way underneath my twin bed with all the dust balls and random book or sock feeling left out, sad and lonely. There was one person who seemed to notice that I needed to do some things on my own merit, and that was my Grampa. In early spring, he would dig up some angleworms and throw some dirt in a tin can, and off we would drive to Newport Pond. Oh, how I loved this! My heart would race when he’d tell me where we were going, and my junior fishing pole he had purchased for me, along with our can of worms would be placed in the back seat and off we’d go. Grampa taught me how to cast out my line with the black and white bobber on it, out as far as I could get it. Then Gramp would throw out his line as well. We’d stand on the shore side by side, Gramp giving little fishing tips for me to try as we waited patiently for the white perch to take our tempting bait. The excitement was palpable when my bobber would be pulled under the water signaling a fish was on the line. Then Grampa would instruct so carefully how I was to reel it in and bring it onto the shore. Gramp had brought a bucket for us to drop our catch in in anticipation of a feed for dinner. Who would have taught me how to fish, or how to shout a rifle at a far-off target, or drive a tractor, or plant a garden, if it hadn’t been for Grampa. Many grandparents have an unconditional love for their one generation removed offspring. I thank God to this day for this precious old man who thoughtfully taught me and poured into me all he could. Always loving, squeezing me, holding me close, even as a young adult and grown woman, Grampa always loved me. He cut his hand while working with his chainsaw when he was in his eighties. I remember as a young married woman, falling to my knees begging God not to take him yet. I needed him so! And God didn’t. Grampa lived to be 96. I wish he could have lived forever. He really cared about me and how I would grow up and develop. He nurtured me; spent time with me, just me and him alone; he always loved me physically and emotionally unconditionally. He made me feel special. He was a father to the fatherless. Oh, how important he was in my life. I would not be who I am today without his constant love and influence in my life. Can you love a fatherless child who really could use someone constant and loving in their life? It doesn’t cost much, just some time and creativity.
What about you? Can God use you to influence a child and fill a void in them that deeply needs love and attention? Can you be a father or mother to a fatherless child? Ask the Lord if there’s some child you can encourage and help along life’s pathway. God will lead you. Have a great day.
