my father's house

My father's house. A Biblical phrase. And one with another lovely meaning.

     Several times a year, my sister Grace brings Dad from Las Vegas to his house in Pasadena, CA. I join them. What fun! Sleepovers, late nights watching Gene Kelly or reading in bed (we women, that is); yummy meals and morning coffee by chef Grace, long chick chats with Grace and her daughter Karen. Brother Mel comes by when he's in town. And Dad's friends come: a former seminary student Dad assisted with writing in English, a neighbor, a friend from his home church, another friend from long ago. 

     There's been a recent development that our family is delighted about: more and more folks are coming by who want to honor Dad and preserve his writings, paintings, and photographs. Because of their dedicated efforts, his work is being archived for Korean/Asian studies at Claremont School of Theology, Fuller Seminary, and the University of Southern California. What joy, seeing people appreciate this most humble saint of God!

     Once I grew teary as I told a friend, "When Dad goes to Heaven, this earth will barely note his passing. They have no idea what a wonderful, amazing man he is or what a huge hole he will leave behind." Shortly after that, I seemed to hear God say, "But I know. And we in Heaven will give him such a welcome home!"

     Until he receives that marvelous welcome in his Father's house, it is lovely to see the welcome he gets now wherever he goes, and the respect and love he receives from all friends, new and old, far and wide.

     Let's all look around and see whom we can appreciate and honor. This week. Today.