People appreciate their fathers for many reasons.  So do I.

Me hammering nails into a 2x4

Katie and I working hard. Wait for it...

 

Hammer hits finger

Hammer the nail, not your fingernail!

The first time I shingled a roof, the tools my dad handed me were not air-powered or pneumatic.  He gave me a hammer and nails.  By the time we finished that roughly 800 square foot roof, I had a pretty decent grasp of both the hammer and how to swing it.

 

Then around the age of 14 or 15, my dad conveyed appreciation for the excursions I had taken with Teen Mania Ministries, but he made it clear that summers were also a good opportunity to learn some work ethic.  I began working for carpenters when I was 14 or 15 years old and sporadically continued to wear work boots until I was 22.

My dad has this saying, “Do the next thing and the right thing.”  He is quick to acknowledge that it can be terribly difficult to determine what the right thing is sometimes, but the man upstairs is aware, and that is sufficient.  When my dad was teaching me dry walling techniques with a putty knife and mud hawk, the “next” thing I did was not always the right thing.  I found myself redoing my work, fixing air bubbles, and sanding, sanding, sanding.

Vector saw blade hammer stairs and ruler

Do the next thing.

If given enough time, I can build stairs.  If given a saw, I’ll cut a hole in the side of the house to access the attic.  If given green paint, I might just toss it.  We spent too many years in a peeling green house with 100 year-old wood siding that barely held on to the green.  Then dad taught me how to side a house.

1 year old helps wash the car

Where would I be without my dad?

Father son camping guitar

  1. Nathanael says:

    I have not even read this blog, but I will say it is sentimental beyond belief. I actually cried a little bit as I scrolled down the page. So touching. Now it is unfortunate that the blog I first encountered is associated with dear ol Markus Amiotus. However, that cannot be helped, I blame fate and circumstance for these events. Marky Mark is clearly a man cut from unique cloth that is hard to emulate. His dry sense of humor is contagious, I often find myself making Marky Mark jokes to the wonderful applause of exuberant eye rolling.

    In the future I hope this blogger remembers that not all of us like to feel emotion. I prefer to remain in a state of constant cold hearted, icy steel, diamond cut, no feel, never cried, type state. This blog causes me to feel and so I do not like it. How am I supposed to drive home with tears in my eyes? That is worse than texting while driving. Lord help those citizens I encounter whilst I strive to navigate my vehicle down streets flooded in tears. Whatever happened to dry, static writing, without feeling of emotions? There is a reason why textbooks cost so beep bopping much. It is because they are wonderful collections of dry, static, unemotional text. That is some excellent writing. You can read it all day and never shed a tear!!

    Alright, I will be done. I promise I will actually go back and read your blog now! :)

  2. Nancy says:

    I love your dad. :)