Treasures of the Heart
The Gospel of Luke includes a narrative about Jesus at the age of twelve. Traveling with his family to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover, he became separated from his parents for three days. Most scholars are in agreement that Luke most likely heard the account directly from Mary. They draw that conclusion from Luke 2:51 which reads, “Mary treasured all that had happened in her heart.” In other words, the emotions and visceral responses associated with the trying moments of the three days stayed with Mary long after the actual events. They were described as “treasures of the heart.”
As a father, have you thought about the emotional and relational images you are, (or could be) impressing on your children right now that will in time become treasured memories? If you, Dad (or Mom) should die tomorrow, what images will be safely tucked away in your children’s treasure chest? What will they remember about the tone of your voice, warmth of your touch, look of your approval and the sound of your encouragement?
It is often said that we tend not to appreciate the value of something until we no longer have it, but wish we still did. This truth has a way of catching up to all of us. It certainly did for me in a unique way.
I can still remember with clarity the day I came home from work and heard the news that my Dad had a massive heart attack. He died before I could get to his bedside. My father died 71 days after his 60th birthday. As a twenty-four-year-old, the age of 60 seemed so far away. Yet, time is linier, always moving us forward to something and for me, that something was a new appreciation for the powerful influence of a loving, attentive father. This is what happened.
As I was approaching my 59th birthday, the Lord began to awaken within me a compelling sense to live out the entire next year and 71 days of my life, with a heighten sensitivity to the last year and 71 days of my Dad’s life. I had no idea where this journey was going to take me, or what lesson waited for me at the end.
On my 59th birthday, I went to my calendar and began noting key dates for the upcoming year and 71 days. I marked all the holidays, birthdays, and vacation days, knowing, for my Dad, each event would be his last. Eventually, my 60th birthday came, and my calendar read: 71 days left; then 7 days and finally the words appeared: “Today at 5:32 PM.”
That morning I rose early to experience the dawn of a new day, knowing this would have been my Dad’s last sunrise. Did he take notice of it as he drove to work? I had lunch while reflecting on his last lunch. That afternoon, at 5:00 pm, I walked down to our dock, sat down, and waited for the moment to arrive. The moment “5:32 pm” came, then passed. . . and my journey was suddenly over. Or was it?
While reliving my father’s last year, I found myself constantly reaching back into my memory, searching for images; those isolated treasured moments when I could see his smile and hear the sound of his voice, encouraging me; telling me that he loved me, and that he was proud of me! I recall Images of hearing him talk to God, helping strangers in need, and showing tenderness toward Mom and my own children.
Like others who have lost a parent, I found myself searching for the physical images of Dad snuggling with me as a young child, holding me as a teenager, and those affirming pats on the back as a young adult. I found some beautiful images, but I wanted more. . . many more, so my mind kept digging deeper for lost images of us doing things with each other, talking through issues of life, laughing, learning and loving together.
Suddenly, the lesson became clear; these were not just memories, but a collection of treasured moments that my Dad hid in my heart. My year long experience provided me a renewed sense of urgency for a new generation of fathers who still have time to be intentional when it comes to filling their children’s heart with “treasured moments” of “beautiful memories.”
On this celebrated day, as you reflect what it means to be a dad, I pray you will take inventory. What treasures of “Dad” are you hiding away in your children’s heart? Give them something beautiful to cling to when you are no longer there. Give them tender, joyful and loving memories with the man they call “Dad.”
To all my father friends: Happy Father’s Day.
Gary Ezzo
To read our series on fatherhood and to watch teachings on The Father’s Mandate, click here.