journeys-page

Happy Father’s Day 2020 This is Rev. Kelly Karges, Senior Pastor of Trinity United Methodist Church in Grand Island, Nebraska and I wanted to share a collection of some of my favorite Father’s Day – Journeys articles from the back of the bulletin from years past. I hope you’ll enjoy them; Journeys 6-16-13 Today is Father’s Day. It is my first Father’s Day spent without my Dad. For years on Father’s Day we Karges sons would migrate home for a meal (usually dinner out at Misty’s in Lincoln). We’d give him the golf club or golf accessary we’d gone together to buy and he and Mom would wallow in the joy of having as many kids and grandkids around as possible. This year, we’re all getting used to the new normal of not having Dad around anymore. As with all families after a loss, this first year of firsts without them is hard. So I find myself out of sorts this Father’s Day. I miss him. And Father’s Day has dredged up all these questions that I never got to ask him, like: “What was it about all those Norman Vincent Peale “Power of Positive Thinking” books that he had in his bathroom library that took him from the dairy to seminary?” or, “Why did he wait ‘til his Dad died before he did anything about his call to the ministry?” This year, Father’s Day is processing me way to much to put much more reflection down on paper, so I leave you with bits and pieces of James Emery White’s list of what a good father is. “…a good father is… …one who knows that children have only one love language – time;…one who daughters want to marry, and sons want to emulate;…one you know will protect you and defend you;…one who provides everything you need (but not necessarily everything you want);…one who is brave when you are scared;…one who teaches you how to treat a woman, and what you should expect from a man;…one who cherished your mother;…one who is stronger, and taller, than you (at least, at first);…one who taught you how to swim, how to ride a bike, how to throw a ball, how to open a door for a woman, how to…you get it;…one who taught you how to drive;…one who set curfews;…one who didn’t make a big deal of the things you thought he would, but did of the things that you know, now, mattered;…one who took you out “trick or treating”;…one who drove you to your first day at school, your first day at college, and your first day at…;…one who paid the ticket;…one who introduced you to God;…one who, most of all, loved you so much he would have laid down his life for yours in a heartbeat. And still would. Happy Father’s Day. From all of us Dads. You’ll never know how much we love you. Or maybe, now, you will.” Grace & Peace, Rev. Kelly Karges ]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] Journeys 6-18-17 My Dad passed away four years ago. On this Father’s Day I wanted to share this piece I wrote a while back. This is in memory and honor of my Dad, Rev. Gil Karges. “The Dreaded Oil Test” When we Karges children go home, no matter how grown up and adult we may think we are, Dad reminds us who’s in charge by asking if he can check our oil. ‘Cause you see, even though Dad is no longer on the farm, he still changes his own oil on his cars. And if you’re a man you’ll learn to take car of the oil on your own car too. Sometimes I have been able to slip away. Other times he has forgotten. But one time a few years ago, Cindy and I were loading up the car for a trip to South Carolina and Dad came out and asked, “How do you get this foreign hood open.” He went right for the dip stick. And I flunked the oil test big time. Dad, even with his new bifocals, could not get a reading on the oil stick of my 1985 Volkswagen Diesel Turbo-charged Jetta. He tried it over and over. As far as he could see, my car had no oil. And the funny thing was, I had paid someone to make sure I passed the dreaded oil test this time. I’d had my car jiffy-lubed the day before. The pros had let me down. But Dad was happy. You should have seen him smile as he walked over to get his 10-W40 from the case he kept in the garage. He whipped out his special funnel and said, “You’d better put some oil in this car son if you want to get to South Carolina and back.” Even though I am a father of three, I’m still getting used to it. I am still learning the thrill and agony of what it means to be Dad. This Father’s Day I thank God for my Dad who loves me enough to check my oil. And Dad, I hope your oil is up too. Grace & Peace, Rev. Kelly ]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] Journeys 6-16-19 Father’s Day Today we thank God for fathers. This Father’s Day my kids are 30, 28 and 23 years old. I can still remember waiting for that first one to be born and having serious reservations about whether I was ready to be a father. After I witnessed our daughter Katie’s birth, my reticence over my readiness for fatherhood became irrelevant. When the nurses cleaned her up, put her in my arms and her little eyes met mine that was it. I was Dad. That fatherhood connection, that new relationship happened with Zack and Emily too. This Father’s Day I find myself reflecting on what I love about being a Dad. I love hearing my kids laugh. I loved rocking them to sleep with their baby heads resting on my shoulder. I still love watching them sleep. I love seeing them take a risk and be successful. I love to see their thirst for a challenge. I love to see them mature and grow up before my very eyes. I love those moments when they actually want to be around me. Becoming friends as adults is an amazing thing. Pretty regularly, in between their text messaging and instant messaging with multiple friends around the country we get to chat on the phone or FaceTime. I hate to see them disappointed. I hate to witness their pain. I hate when their happiness is out of my control. I hate that they have grown up and left the nest (even though I know it’s my job to get them out of the nest). I know from my own experience that I will always be their Dad no matter how many connector flights it takes to get to them. I also know that my fathering skills have not always been up to par. I just hope that they were able to soak in the good stuff and let go of the bad so that when the time comes they’ll not be afraid to be a Dad or Mom themselves. Grace & Peace, Rev. Kelly Karges