The commandment to honor your parents can be found in Exodus 20:12. I often envy other people who grew up with a father or both parents in the house; I did not. Some fathers however are not worthy for such honor. I have a dear friend whose father severely abused him; he wound up becoming a drug addict. My father did no such thing; however he divorced my mother in 1973, and I only saw him for six weeks in the summers. The last time I visited him as a teenager was in 1985; about nine months after David died. His wife said that David was in hell for killing himself.
He was not in my life, but the only reason why I know the existence of God is because of him. I owe my salvation to him. He and I don’t see eye to eye on many things. Imagine having a son who is gay, when all you wanted was for him to be the all-American boy. He wanted John Wayne but got Betty Crocker.
My sister had a wonderful idea for his 70th birthday: get him a flagpole. I thought this was a good idea, in that he is very patriotic and served in Vietnam. Each of the four kids contributed money to this endeavor; I shelled out $200. I didn’t do this because I think he was a super awesome dad. He wasn’t. He did not rescue me from the life of squalor my mother inflicted on me; he did not stop my biological grandfather’s abuse; he did not comfort me when David died (in fact he told me to just get over it).
I contributed money to the flagpole to honor him; not because he deserved it. I love my father – from a distance (more than just miles). I wish we were closer, but that will never be. He is mostly a stranger to me.
Still, I honored my father.
Broken but redeemed 