Presbyterian was the religion of choice by my mom and dad, mainly mom. Each Sunday growing up, I attended Sunday School or Church. While I can't say we necessarily practiced what was preached we did attend, volunteer and tithe to our local Church. At some point, we stopped after mom became bitterly disenchanted with the Church during a long illness. I can't remember the exact age but I believe I was coming up on or was in my early teens. I lost track of Church and didn't attend again for several years.
In my early marriage, I was not a nice person to be around. My wife is a saint for sticking it out with me. I have two great kids, who I don't see enough. Who could blame them. My grand kids are great and I love everyone in the family but I nearly lost it all. I was an alcholic in my younger days and drank way more than any individual should drink. I was always absent even when I was in the room. My kids grew up with that. I didn't give much direction and who could blame them for not paying attention to a drunk. I wasn't violent, just drunk.
At some point, something happened that brought God back into the picture. I converted to Catholism and started to pray about my miserble life and what I was doing to myself and those around me. I found the strenght to quit smoking and drinking on the very same day of the same year nearly 20 years ago. But by then my kids were nearly grown.
Once I stopped drinking I started preaching. I soon found out that wasn't such a good idea, so I kind of let God slide out of the picture again. While the majority of my immediate family do not believe in a God in the same way that most Christians do, I still have unanswered questions and continue to seek answers. I haven't been to Church for sometime, but recently have had an experience that kind of makes me want to go back. I don't plan to preach to the family or try to change their attitudes but I think it is something that I need.
I was baptised when I was young. Most Christians are. In the days of Constintine people waited until they were nearly on their deathbed before being batised thinking that they couldn't possibly sin in the last days of life. I am thinking maybe I should have waited.
At 64, with Fathers Day looming, I wanted to say how much I appeciate and how proud I am of my two kids and three grandchildren. And to my wife, who stuck it out all these years, I can never thank God enough for her. I love her more each day and hope we have many more years to go.
Travel safe out there and have a Happy Fathers Day