A New Way of Seeing My Father

Scripture Reflection:
“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.
But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven…”
— Matthew 6:19–20

Dust gathers not only on our shelves or mirrors but also in our minds. As we grow older our memory can fade, and time slows. In that dust, we can lose sight of what truly matters, love, faith, and the people who shaped us.

My father’s life was once filled with purpose and conviction. He was a man of faith, a minister, a missionary, a servant of God. He traveled far from home to Pakistan, Singapore, Lebanon, and across Asia, ensuring that others could share the Word and the love of Christ in mission.  He was responsible for missionaries when he worked for Church World Service and the National Council of Churches.  Asia was his territory.  

He was a husband and a father of four, teaching us right from wrong, faith from doubt, compassion from indifference. I’ve built my own life of service upon his example, perhaps in different ways. He led leaders in missionary work as I lead caregivers in elder care but from the same well of generosity and caring.

Yet time is a mystery. A decade ago, the strong and inspiring man I knew began to fade. Not by choice, but by the slow erosion of Alzheimer’s. He forgot our names, our faces, even his own story. His once-commanding voice grew quiet, and his confident stride turned into a shuffle. The man who once guided and served others became lost in the fog of his own mind, a painful paradox of presence and absence.

But as I am learning, this is not the end of his story.

During the prayer today at our Sunday service, I was reminded to see my father in a new way. Not through what he has lost, but through what he has given. His office was once filled with notes, letters, clippings, and sermons, the tangible pieces of a life of service. I am reminded that the true treasures he stored were never in the files of documents and writings he saved. They live on in the lives he touched, the faith he nurtured, the love he shared.

Our treasures in heaven are not the things we possess but the relationships we build, the kindness we extend, the grace we offer to others. My father’s treasures are waiting for him there in heaven. The missionaries he supported, the congregations he served, the friends and family he loved.

When I see him now frail, fearful, struggling to speak, a shell of a man, I remind myself to look deeper. To see the man God knows fully and complete in faith. Not the fading figure before me, but the soul completed in God’s grace. His faith, his love, his lifetime of service remains, gathered into the eternal kingdom, where there is no more forgetting, no more fear, no more dust.

Faith, after all, begins by letting go of the clutters, the items we collect and store up in life. Faith is found in letting go of what we can no longer hold on too and trusting that the true treasures has always been in God’s grace and the gifts of service we provide to others during our time on earth.

Prayer:
Lord, help me to see my father as You see him each day.  As a whole man, radiant, and free of the fog that dims his earthly mind.
Teach me to treasure not what fades, but what endures: love, faith, service, and grace.
Clear the dust from my heart, O Spirit, that I may live each day storing treasures in heaven, as my father did.
Amen.