Ronald Lee is 30!! (a re-post on the occasion of a later birthday!)

It must've been somewhere in the summer after my Senior year of High School when, just like a few years earlier when number six came along, Dad called us in for an announcement: “Your Mother and I are going to be adding another baby to the family. Sometime next Spring number seven will arrive!” And did he ever arrive! On this day those 30 34 years ago, Ronald Lee Huff joined our family and we've never been the same – a good thing!!

Unfortunately for me I was off to college when he was born but I still remember Mom flying to South Florida from Kansas with an 8-week old boy so she and he could be with me and my older sister for a week or so. It was some kinda hot and the little brother made some kinda noise, but it was all good!

A few years later I was home for a year and was around for Ronnie's birthday-suit trek through the neighborhood and his attempt to climb on the roof at age 3. I still remember how determined he was to get up there and help us on that hot, steep roof. One time he climbed a radio tower up to the eave of the roof. Mom was the only one home with him and had to climb up and retrieve him herself! Even though I was not home a lot during those years, I always remember how huggable and lovable he was as a boy, a lot of fun for the family and all who knew him.

As he grew into elementary school it slowly became just he and older brother Robb at home with Mom and Dad because the rest of us were gone with our own families or college or work. Robb and Ron were close buddies. Then when Ron was nine we all suffered the loss of Dad. After 20 years it still hits you in the gut, and perhaps Ronnie most of all. I still remember Ronnie – nine years old, trying to take it all in, resting in the strengthening presence of family. After the graveside gun salute he was gathering the spent brass cartridges out of the grass. He held out his hand to show me 9 cartridges: “I saved nine of these for the nine years I had with Dad.” This was Ron – thoughtful, tender, missing the biggest man in his life, and knowing enough to always remember.

In the years to come and up through High School we always loved it when he and Robb could visit our home with Mom. He always had a ready smile and laugh, and we loved him so much. Couldn't help ourselves. I remember once after our first son was born and Ronnie was visiting. He went out to ride around with me and he was old enough by then to help me some. He was only eleven so I should have known better, but I found myself pushing him, insisting that he 'get busy'. I didn't let up very well either, mean ol' big brother that I was! And then I noticed that he was just quiet and thoughtful – not doing much. “What are you thinking?” I asked. He took a moment before he replied.  “Life isn't just all work you know," he said. "Just 'cause I want to be out here with you doesn't mean I'm wanting to work all the time.” It was late, cold and he was right -- "wanting to be with me".  There's a life lesson in that.  Maybe a 30-year old guy could think of something more fun to do with his eleven-year old brother than work and more work. Ya think?

And so along the way we have had a great deal of fun. I wish I could remember some of the jokes. They were often nearly unspoken. One time in particular we were in Indiana for Thanksgiving, enjoying a domino game around the table. He would've been about fifteen I guess and we had discovered a very kindred spirit, meeting somewhere in the exquisite world of “Far Side” and “Calvin and Hobbes.” The worst of it was that we could seldom make our remarks without busting into uncontrollable laughter. Before one of us could finish some wise-crack, the other knew where it was going and we would lose it. The rest of the table had no idea how whatever-it-was could be so belly-laugh funny. Maybe we didn't either – it just was, and this is a special connection we have always enjoyed.

Another connection is this sort of crazy love of big-word-talk, for lack of a better description. It goes something like this: Instead of asking “Why did the chicken cross the road?”, Ron might proffer the following: 

     “Should inquisitions propose grammar leading to quest of determining poultry motive in situations  where horseless carriage ambulations must be transversed by said poultry, such determinations shall be disallowed from being sought via annoying query signs beside said routes of transversing.” 

Perfectly clear, right?

My favorite expression of his was when he referred to people as “sentient beings.” It was LOL funny -- after I looked it up to know what it meant.  Soon I shamelessly stole it for my own retorts. Of course mystified onlookers wonder what marbles we have left, but we don't mind. We might even describe said state for you if you like!

So there has been a lot of fun, and some hard times along the way as well. I remember when Ron decided to join the Army. I had the very poignant privilege of taking him to the airport for his departing flight to boot camp. The memory of that trip and his departure is surreal. I wish I could go there again, hug him again and shake his hand, feel the mix of pride and challenge and knowing life can never be the same again. We drove some 60 miles and made small talk. My kid brother had grown up and was going to do something none of us had done. And it was a life step I will never forget.

I am so proud of Ron for joining and serving in the Army. He has been less than enamored with his memories and experiences, not uncommon I am sure. But the love we all feel for him, and the pride and appreciation for his service and sacrifice will always be real in our hearts.

In the last ten years there were times when Ron lived within a few hours drive and 2 or 3 times I was able to meet him for his birthday. Once we met at this cool sub place in Cincinnati. Another time he took me to a new-to-me Mexican place that served huge portions. It was always so very good to get together with him, talk about old times, new times, good times, life. Like always he was funny, thoughtful, articulate. Good times.

Now he is 30 and I can't believe it, but I get to take a few minutes and say something real, something I mean, something like this straight to my much-loved kid brother: “Hey man, I miss you. Wish Kansas and Virginia were not far separated by, you know, roads and mountains and miles and stuff. You OK? Working hard I'm sure – that makes me happy and proud. I love the memories, Ron, and the blessing of a brother like you. I'm thankful for the now and all we can know and love. I believe in a better Tomorrow but am very thankful for all the todays. Let's stay in touch better – ok?  

"That's all for now except to say again, Happy Big 3-0.  I hope you have many, many more and that I get to celebrate some of them with you.  This thousand miles away stuff just doesn't cut it.  Oh and I almost forgot -- I love you, Bro.”

 

Life According to Phillip

I was grateful and honored to speak for the PCA commencement, 2013.  I wound up speaking about what I have learned from the life and phone calls of my cousin Phillip.  It is written for the ear not the eye but if you have a few minutes skip over the commencement verbiage of the first paragraphs and learn 7 life lessons according to Phillip!

Life According to Phillip

Pastor Dave, Mrs. Dixon, Dr. Burton, honored guests, PCA board members, faculty and staff, parents, family, friends....graduates! What a great day this is – wow!! We are here, you are ready to graduate, and I'm supposed to say a few words and sit down so you can! I understand. I feel deeply honored to share this time with you in this way and have looked forward to it for months. May God be pleased to bless these few words.

This class and I go back two years to when I was blessed to serve as Dean of Students at PCA. This is payback time! They had the audacity to write a song about me – something about Mr. Huff – and there was this little green puff ball, and the song said I was buff (well, I didn't mind that of course – it rhymed with Huff, I know) and then they said something about falling asleep in chapel. Hard to not love you – each of you: Austin, Ben, Daniel, Lorelai, Lorin, Anna, Holly, Bridgit, Amber, Harmony, Sarah, Hailey, and Bailey. Maybe I should write a song about you – not sure how I'd get all those names to rhyme! Along with all those in this room today, I honor your achievement and pray God's richest blessing on your life.

I have been blessed in life with a large family – both of my folks had 7 siblings and there were 7 kids in our family and then I married Jane and she has 11 siblings – family was everywhere! And there were a lot of cousins. One of those cousins was Phillip. Phillip is a special man. He lives alone in Texas not far from his sister and parents. One of my earliest memories of Phillip is when we were about 6 years old and he had found this long pipe and he was chasing me around with it. I realize now that was his way of saying “I love you!” Go figure! Phillip is a large man as you can see in this picture. When we used to play football we would say, “OK Phillip, you be the line.” He is 5' 9” and about 180........plus a few!

Phillip calls me everyday. Sometimes several times. No I do not always pick up.  Phillip is a man of few words – usually – and many phone conversations only run 2 minutes, after which he often abruptly says “bye” and hangs up. But across these several years I have learned some things. If you have someone like Phillip in your life you know what I mean – he has some special insight into what matters and he is a real blessing. I want to share some of that with you today – I call this “Life according to Phillip.”

Lesson One: Limits (calling)

Phillip knows his limits, which enables him to know his calling. Phillip will not be an aerobics instructor or a zip-line demonstrator or a skydiver. Instead he finds his daily calling within the gifts and abilities he has.

I know, we usually don't say this – instead we say, “The sky is the limit, you can do anything you set your mind to do.” I get that, but really? Maybe. But it seems far wiser to know yourself and follow a path that is within the limits – and gifts – of who you are. The standard answer is to find the place where your gifts and passions meet. True enough but if you leave God and loved ones out of the equation you are doomed to fail. Each of you have gifts that will be a great blessing to the world. Know your limits – don't try to be someone you are not supposed to be. Discover your calling and live it with a passion!

Lesson #2: Phillip cares about people

Did I mention he calls often. I am putting this phone on the podium here just for fun to see if he calls during this address. When we talked earlier today, you know how he finished? Very simple – and wonderful: “I love you.” Phillip knows that people matter. The things that matter are not things – Phillip knows the truth of that saying in his bones. But this means suffering. Loving people has rewards built in but it also has pain and frustration. Phillip has time on his hands but he has to put up with me not answering. And he still calls and leaves messages. The greatest gift you have to give is yourself, made in the image of God. Give yourself away in love for people and your life will be a thing of beauty and blessing. It takes time and self-giving but as Jesus said, giving brings blessing.

And Phillip is tender in his spirit. Over twenty years ago he visited in our home and accidentally broke the glass cover on our stereo. Now and then he still mentions it: “Sorry about that glass I broke that one time.” And often he will say, “Sorry you don't have your Dad here to be with you [I lost my Dad 20 years ago] – I know it must be hard living without a Dad.”

Phillip knows what matters – he cares about knowing and loving people.

Lesson #3: Remember the forgotten ones

When Phillip calls he often prays. And one thing that he often includes is this: “And Lord be with Jane and the boys and all they are doing this Sunday...and the dog.” Yes we should love animals – it is part of honoring God and this amazing world He has made. But I draw from this a larger lesson as well. What Phillip doesn't know is that our dog, Oreo, is a gift from God to us, showing up abused and starving, afraid to come close to me for about 3 months. We nursed Oreo to health and love him like crazy. But we are busy and we too easily neglect him. Often Phillip asks, “Have you walked the dog today?”

The lesson is this: Take time for the neglected, for those starving for affection. Sometimes Oreo wants our attention so much I think his tail will fly off from wagging. You will encounter people every day in your life who are dying inside, hurting, begging for someone to care about them, to just “love me for me” as the song says. It's true. Pain is one of the universal human realities and you are called to give the salve of kindness and attention and a listening ear whenever you can. Know your calling, love people, and especially give attention to those who are starving for love.

Lesson #4: Enjoy and embrace the fun and goofiness in life

Twenty years ago this summer Phillip and I attended a Promise Keepers event in Boulder, CO with our Dad's and my younger brother. On the last day some 25,000 men were making their way across this enormous field to the sack lunch stations. Crazy! How do you manage that many people?! Somewhere in the middle of this huge, moving crowd a man was standing on a scaffold, yelling repeatedly: “Craig Hogie! Craig Hoagie!” For some reason that scene tripped the funny meter in our brain and all these years later, often times when Phillip calls I will answer like this: “Craig Hogie!” I know, I know, you are not blown over by the humor in that. But we are! 

You have your own craziness to laugh about and if you keep your eyes open and live out loud you will always have plenty to laugh about and enjoy. I know that is true because I heard Mr. Bryan's excellent roasting of each of you at the Junior/Senior banquet. You guys are a hoot. My favorite line was about Harmony – “she comes to class late and leaves early just to make it fair.” This is a key part of “living like there's no tomorrow, loving like you are on borrowed time, knowing it is good to be alive!” Learn to enjoy and embrace the fun and goofiness in life.

Lesson #5 Encourage always

Do you know what Phillip says most of the time? “I love you. You are a promise keeper. You are God's master piece. I'm praying for you.” He says it over and over and over – and I never get tired of it. He means it and he stands behind it with prayers and time and love and care. Life will press you down to be sure. This is a fallen world with struggles and challenges all around. Deeply held hopes and dreams will be cruelly crushed and there will be days when you do not want to go on. This is not doom and gloom – it is reality.

Can I tell you something? Other people are feeling the same.

So, look to Jesus, trust Him to pick you up, and encourage those around you. This is a life lesson that always pays and as soon as you step out of yourself and encourage others you will find yourself encouraged. And one more thing – this business about being God's masterpiece. Don't let me hear you saying you are an idiot or some such nonsense. God doesn't make junk – don't go disrespecting God like that. Yes we do dumb things and sin messes up our lives and we need forgiveness and redemption. But when Phillip says to me and I say to you, “You are God's masterpiece” it is the truth: As you surrender your life to Jesus, He is healing a life that was broken, turning night to day, making a great blessing of you. So look up and believe: know God is working and let that faith encourage those around you.

Lesson #6: Forgive always

This is a tough one but Phillip seems to have it down. Many times when I have hurt him in some way I have apologized and before I can finish he butts in by saying, “That's OK!” and then changes the subject to remind me to walk the dog or something. Forgiveness or lack of it will be a touchstone of your life, a key arena that will determine much of your success or failure. It starts with knowing you yourself have sinned and desperately need forgiveness. Once you know the sweet honey of forgiveness you can begin to truly forgive others.

Can I speak plainly? You have been hurt, deeply, by various people in your life. This does not mean you are bad – it means you are human. But if you do not release it – that is what forgiveness means, to release – that hurt will own you. I have been bound by pain that I would not let go and it kept me imprisoned for years. Jesus set me free and I continue to learn to forgive because I myself have been so well forgiven.

Consider this:

The first to apologize is the bravest,

The first to forgive is the strongest,

The first to forget is the happiest.

Forgive always.

Lesson #7: Pray always

Phillip is always praying for me. Often his first words are, “Heavenly Father, bless Randy today and Jane and the boys....” Sometimes when he is done praying he says 'bye' and hangs up. Once as he was praying he got his words tangled and couldn't figure out what he was trying to say so he just said, “O well, Lord – you know what I mean” and went on.

Pray always. The world needs saints. Your neighborhood, your friends, your family need for you to be godly, holy and wholesome, honest and hard-working and reliable and kind and considerate and fun and serious, too. People want that from you – know how I know? Because that's what you want from other people!!

But it doesn't come easy – for this reason I remind you that looking to God, talking to Him and listening to Him is the highest goal of life, the greatest good. To know God is eternal life. Hear the words of Jesus: “The greatest command is to love the Lord your God with all your heart soul mind and strength; and your neighbor as yourself.”

Solomon said it this way: “Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.” This is not a slavish fear, a paralyzing dread; it is seeing God for who He is: It is remembering that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”

Pray always because in prayer you carry on the greatest adventure of life – knowing God! I urge you to live beyond petty ideas and careless thinking about God. I plead with you to read the Bible and good theology at least as much as you watch – what is on TV these days? :) The point is this: the world is dying for lack of people who think deeply and understand life and are walking with God so they can bring His life to their world. YOU do not have to be a great thinker or philosopher – God wants to help you whatever way of life you find your selfcalled to. But you will never live the vibrant life of God in that world unless you diligently and fervently seek Him and leave off careless thinking.

You will not be like the person in Wilbur Rees' poem who said:

I would like to buy $3 worth of God please

Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep

but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk

or a snooze in the sunshine

I don't want enough of God to make me love another race

or pick beats with a migrant.

I want ecstacy, not transformation

I want the warmth of the womb, not a new birth

I want a pound of the eternal in a paper sack

I would like $3 worth of God please.

If you are going to have a life worth living look to God – always. Let Him search your heart and lead you in His good and everlasting way. He rewards those who diligently seek Him and I promise you, I promise you – you will never regret surrendering your life to Him.

Pray always because knowing God is the greatest possible treasure. That is

life according to Phillip.

Conclusion

How would you wrap this up? What is the lesson of Phillip? I didn't tell you that 12 years ago Phillip tried to take his life. He had a good job for many years, good basic work in a print shop. But due to some painful mistakes over time they had to let him go. Along with the mix of everything else in life this crushed Phillip and one day I got the call that he was recovering in ICU from an attempted drug overdose. What happened? The pain of sin weighed him down. No doubt he needed limits, encouragement, forgiveness, prayer, joy, and fun. For sure he felt forgotten even though his family loved him dearly. The wound of sin led him to a point where he decided life didn't matter.

Can I tell you – please listen – we are all born with the deep wound of sin – the estrangement from God our Father, made in his image but broken and lost, knowing deep in our soul that we are made for something great but sin has knocked us down. Eventually we act out that pain in sinful deeds that hurt others and we are hurt by others who are equally wounded. But Phillip found the cure – and now his life is one of blessing to me, and many. He is being redeemed in new and fresh ways within the calling he is able to fulfill.

You know this is what your church and family and PCA have been pressing into your life for all of these years, and it is the charge I leave you with today. Life is broken but Jesus came and was broken for you and for me. And because of Him – this is the Gospel! – we can live life according to Phillip. We can know and live our calling, we can love and feel deeply for others, we can have fun and love life, encourage others on the journey, forgive always and walk in communion with God! This is the good life, the right life, the only life – go live it and be a miracle of blessing wherever you go!

Missing my Dad...

Nineteen years ago I lost my Dad.  I have spent these years slowly knowing how much he means, how much he loved me, how much I loved him.  If you still have your Dad, appreciate him, love him, spend time with him, tell him how grateful you are.  If you know someone who doesn't have their Dad, see how you may be a blessing to them.

Today I listened to this song by the inimitable Michael Kelly Blanchard and the tears came.  As Michael has it, "I miss you, Pops."  I miss my Dad.  And things are never the same.  Others I can look up to, and do -- but none can take his place, or should.  Others give guidance and wisdom and example, but none like my Dad.  Others give inspiration, but his life and memory give insight and help when I am at a loss.

"Springtime flowers", as the song says, will indeed bloom and renew, but there are times the heart aches and Spring is too far away.  But as Dad would tell me and the song says so well, "You're gonna make it through."  Yes, I will, but I still miss you, Dad.  Thank you for all you gave to me, easily overlooked at the time, but deeply treasured today.  There are no words, except, "I love you."

Contra-Human...

So in the absence of adequate time or catchy titles I am going to toss out a few thoughts on the recent fracas over the Georgetown University gal and her concern about insured contraceptive pills.

Of course this is not about access -- access is everywhere. And it is not about a solid philosophical discussion of the matter -- that is virtually impossible. Speaking of, I heard a 'debate' on Hannity in which the dissenting voice, an M.D., was startlingly shrill and irrational. Beyond the pale.

There are many elephants in this room. G. K. Chesterton reveals the elephant in his splendid essay, A Piece of Chalk, in which the grandest truths are the ones we are built upon. In his essay, that truth is the grandeur of sexual purity.

Far truer to call this the 'dinosaur' in the room, for it is neglected as if irrelevant, passe'. But it is the beautiful alternative to what Ms. Fluke protests. No access to contraception?! No options? What of chastity -- a beautiful, old-fashioned way of life in which one saves sexual activity for marriage and then exclusively for one's spouse?

Happily, I was chaste when married and know many who, by the grace of God, supportive family/peer groups, and a this-is-possible-and-to-be-expected attitude, did the same. When a relative told her Dr. that she was a virgin he was stunned. "How does that happen?" Premarital intercourse is assumed.

Chesterton puts it thus: "Virtue is not the absence of vices or the avoidance of moral dangers; virtue is a vivid and separate thing.... Chastity does not mean abstention from sexual wrong; it means something flaming, like Joan of Arc. In a word, God paints in many colors; but he never paints so gorgeously, I had almost said so gaudily, as when He paints in white."

The recent national discussion began by ignoring this vast possibility: that unmarried people would save the beauty of sex for marriage. Can we go there and talk about this as the most truly human alternative?

Marriage is the home for sex -- save it. Marriage is the home for children -- save it. Marriage is the home for families -- save it. Families are the foundation of society -- save them. The incredible allure of sex without boundaries will drag us down further and further until prophets like GKC and you and I insist that so-called 'free sex' is a misnomer that damns us. Virtue and sexual chastity are the grand choices that preserve beauty and truth and in the end, make wholesome families possible.

A Memory of a Great Man

Kenneth Bryant

From a distance I knew him, far enough away in age and miles that I lay awake tonight wondering if I could/should say anything at all. How did I know this man? I didn't, not really. And yet I did in what is, to me, sacred memory. And I knew him in knowing some of his children. And that is how I remember him first. So many children that I'm afraid to name them, fearing I will miss one. There was Becky, the eldest and her he-man husband, Ron, both of whom loved me early as a young man, setting a good example of a godly life. Then there was Mark, the cowboy – well all the guys were cowboys in a way. Mark and Steve were the older brothers. Then came Liz and Mary, Nathan and Sarah, and that little guy running around under foot, Micah. I might have missed one but I think that is it.

As I say, I'm just a distant observer but on this day of remembering the man, the father of this clan, I keep seeing a lot in my memory. I remember his eyes. Kenneth Bryant had this ever-present way in his expression, nearly impossible to describe. It was not a twinkle though it had merriness to it. It is like he knew this secret and it gave constant energy and joy to his life. It was nothing he lorded over others. In fact it seems like it was the secret that kept him going in service to everyone else. A pleasant truth, reflecting a well never running dry, a life really lived in ways and from sources the rest of us puzzled over before going our lesser ways.

My most fixed memory of Kenneth Bryant, his wonderful wife and fun family, is seeing them arrive at church camp grounds in Wichita, Kansas. The grounds were always hot and dusty and when the Bryant clan arrived there was an old car kicking up a plume of dust, pulling a trailer, and a pickup with a topper following, I guess. I only remember that they weren't driving anything fancy! But it had to be more than one vehicle to handle all of those kids. And they set up camp in and outside their cabin over there in the SW corner of the grounds. Nothing too romantic on those dusty grounds, mind you, but if there was time to tell it all you would know why I consider those memories sacred.

Around the Bryant cabin I was introduced to a lasso, messing around after and between services to learn something about lassoing someone's little brother or related mischief. There was some real coyboyin' goin' on in that family as I knew for sure when I went with Steve in '82 to visit Mark on the backside of nowhere in Arizona. Having grown up in western Kansas I knew big spaces, but NE Arizona redefined it for me. Steve and I drove for a long time – maybe an hour or more – no markings, no stores, nothing but....nothing. And then in the middle of all that we found Mark with a trailer and truck and horse, doing his job in service to a rancher who, honest, had cattle out there somewhere. We took Mark's truck and left him with a car as I recall so we could return to Kansas where church camp was getting started again in one of those hot, dusty, happy Augusts.

And so when we met the Bryants, starting in 1978 in that happy place in Wichita, it was always with all those kids and somewhere around was Mrs. Bryant -- always smiling in my memory -- and Mr. Bryant. Of course they loved God and you knew it, and they loved Him with service and love and just being in a way that made you almost forget they were there. As Micah told me, “Dad wasn't on any big councils or big important stuff like that, but he lived Jesus in a way like no one else I ever knew.”

As I grew older I didn't see them as much. One of the last times was in Miltonvale in 1989 or so. Whatever year it was, they had lost Steven in the past year. One of the pastors motioned toward Mr. Bryant and said, “There is a man of God, just buried a son, carrying on in faithfulness and truth and love.” I looked across at Mr. Bryant and knew, in my youthful unknowing, that there was a mysterious truth to this and a sustaining enabling in his life.

As I say, I knew him from a distance, but I could not shake his memory as I lay awake tonight. He died sometime on Monday, leaving eight children and their families, a heritage that is really priceless. I confess I remember him as being very poor – seemed like they had so little. But as the saying goes, the most important things in life are not things, and the Bryants had that in abundance. A real, simple, living faith in a God who was good, faithful, loving, steady, honest, always there. That was Kenneth Bryant, I think, living faithfully so that we saw in him the Jesus he loved and trusted. And so now that he is gone from us his example helps us to believe that we, too, can walk that life of faith, if faint by comparison, and someday rejoin him in heaven. I think that makes sense; I think that is real. And I believe it all the more because of the life and love of this good man I knew from a distance, Kenneth Bryant.

Happy Birthday, Jane!

Jane is...Happy Years! She is known as Janie by High School friends. Her mother named her Lana Jane. I am blessed to know her as my wife.

For the fun of it on this happy day I am sharing a picture or two of this great gal, lady, mother, friend, profound blessing to so many, not least, happily, ME!

Larry L. Huff

My Dad would be 70 Today

(Nov. 7, 2009)


Today my Dad would be 70. He died in 1993, having just turned 54.

I miss my Dad – so hard to believe he has been gone so long. Today as I hurt for our friend, Tom McCall, who just lost his own Dad, I feel the deep inner pain, the sense of loss that just will not go away. Death is so final, and efforts to write about it always seem futile.

I remember my Dad as one who worked hard and gave his best along the years of life. He and my Mom had seven children, losing their first at the age of 3 months. Dad was a woodsman all of his life, proving the adage that you ‘can take the man out of the woods but you can’t take the woods out of the man’. Even when we lived on the plains of southwest Kansas he did a little bit of tree work. Later, in North Central Kansas, he found a happy niche as a local tree surgeon, felling trees around town on his days off, hauling the firewood home to heat our big house on the edge of town.

Of course Dad’s real job was as a Highway Patrolman and he served Kansans in this capacity for 23 years. I always enjoyed seeing him in uniform and hearing him check in on the radio: “334 Garden City” or “334 Salina” as the case may be. I’ll never forget his early morning return from a tragic wreck in which three had perished. I was up at about 5:00 AM or so and as he came by my room he just held up three fingers, sober and dutiful.

He was 43 at the time, younger than me as I write today. As I pass these years I often wonder, “What were those years like for my Dad? Did he have the same feelings I have now? Who was he really? Can I understand him now that I am passing through life as he did?” Maybe I can. I know this. For years now I’ve found myself asking, “How did Dad handle this?” And I try to answer so I can get a good idea for how I should handle whatever it is. Always I remember a man who loved me and showed it by steady faithfulness. After I moved out and started my own home he really worked to keep channels open. He loved my wife, Jane, and by word and example supported our marriage.

This summer we visited my Dad’s boyhood home in Emily, Minnesota, and spent most of a week with his seven wonderful siblings and their families. Wow! Once again I was reminded of one of my Dad’s best qualities, exhibited so well in the Huff clan of the North. He knew how to love – love in a way that was real; no airs, no ‘delusions of grandeur’ as he liked to say, no mean spiritedness about people. I didn’t always understand this kind of love, being a more emotional type, and in my teenage years I was annoying enough (and beyond “annoying”) to make for some real difficulty. But in it all he was steady and true, living a life of trust and dependence on God. His life and guidance, along with my Mom, of course, took me on a path in which I often encountered the living God. And much to my Dad’s joy, one day I surrendered my life to Jesus and He has made all the difference.

Those are my thoughts today on my Dad’s 70th birthday. I so wish he were still with us. How I would love to talk about life with him, making amends, listening, listening, listening. For now I just want to be more like him, which will be less than he wanted, but as much as I can hope for. And I say that with a happy smile. Larry Huff was a good man and today I gladly honor him as my Dad.