The newspaper clipping was printed in 1981. It highlighted a 2 mile cross country "Run for Fun" race where my dad came in third with a time of 11:35. I was later mentioned in the list of kids that ran the 1 mile race. I was just 3 years old with a time of 16:35 :) The two ribbons had dates of 1983 and 1984, all races I was now running with my little sisters. But it was the story that warmed my heart, gave me a whole truckload of parenting advice, and reminded me that I absolutely had and have the BEST dad. Here is the story/excerpt from my scrapbook:
"I (my mom) remember a race Dad went to at Greencastle High School where they decided to run a 400 meter race for the kids. You and another boy were the only ones brave enough to accept the challenge. Dad said the boy looked confident that he could beat a dumb 9 year old girl, but Dad also said that you had that determined look in your eye and when the gun went off that boy was eating your dust, your pony tail flying straight back in the wind!! Dad was ecstatic. We heard that story 100 times over the next few weeks. You've never lost that determined spirit and I pray you never will."
Wow, I just sat there staring at the picture, tears rolling down my cheeks. Like a movie, my mind went into rewind and started replaying all the moments, the memories, the distinct opportunities where my Dad made more than just an impact on me, but he literally molded me into the person I am today. I know for a fact that he encouraged me to run that 400 meter race that day. I know he told me I was awesome, I could do it and that I could beat that boy. I know he laid all inhibitions aside as he stood on that gravel track and cheered like a maniac for his little girl. I know he scooped me up, gave me a huge hug, and smiled at me not with just his mouth but with his sparkling blue eyes as well. I know he made me feel like a superstar, because with every retelling of the "story" I was reminded of how proud he really was.
What if this scenario from my past had gone different? What if he had not even taken me with him that day? What if he never gave me the nudge to step out among all the other kids and run the race? What if he hadn't believed in me, cheered for me, or told me I could do it? What other opportunities, challenges, "races" if you will, would I have chosen not to run in the future if it had not been for my Dad? Determination in a 6 year old translates into a determined 13, 20, and 33 year old. Fear, unless uprooted, translates into a fearful 13, 20, and 33 year old. My dad understood that his children were the only "natural resource" he could take with him. He understood we were a treasure on earth that would lead to generations and multitudes of others in heaven someday...and so he protected and valued this "treasure", us, like the irreplaceable natural resource it was.
My dad never had a hefty stock portfolio, but one immense investment he did make was into me, my siblings and honestly anyone else that was in need of a Father. I remember the discussion we had while sitting at the end of my bed where he encouraged me to try a new sport, or all the nights before the first day of school that he reminded us of two things, sit in the front and be nice to the kids no one else will be nice to. I remember him chasing us around the house playing a made up game called "Better Run Better Run", and swinging us around in a sleeping bag. I remember seeing him and my mom kneeled by their bed every single night saying their prayers. I remember him sitting in his chair for hours, sorting through a plastic baggy of bible verses, focused...committing them to memory. I remember when he on the spur of the moment came to help me pick up a love seat that I found at a garage sale (this was huge considering I probably interrupted something he was working on, because he's always working and taking breaks is not his style...interestingly enough, it's not mine either :) And who could forget the time he spoke during chapel at LMH and to "wrap up" his talk, he flexed his muscles...seriously, what a legend!
The list could go on and on...taking us to the rescue mission to serve food and sing songs to the homeless, picking up hitchhikers and bringing them to dinner (another blog post for another time), building an underground house and then humbly saying "good-bye" to it in order to say "hello" to a new calling of pastoring a church. I mean construction worker turned pastor...not the most likely career change. Driving bus and passing out candy every Friday, creating the world's largest bobsled track in the backyard, fostering good dental hygiene by brushing his own teeth for like 10 minutes or until the foam reached his elbow, establishing chocolate chips as a new food group, promising to scare off boyfriends with a baseball bat, but upon meeting them being the most genuinely kind person you could ever come in contact with, locking the doors every night before going to bed, working his guts out to provide, hitting a man on a motorcycle with his bus...but making it up to him by letting him live in our basement for months, cutting off his own cast, being the most incredible CHIEF (grandfather) any kid could ever have, and loving people more than they thought was humanly possible. WOW, what a man...what a dad.
That's it...I'm calling Webster, because truly the name Randy Martin should be found beside the definition of FATHER in the dictionary. I love you Dad! I loved you as a child, a teen, and now as an adult...today with greater appreciation than ever...and someday as a parent I can only imagine the gratitude I will have for the responsibility you took to raise a family that would one day rise up and call you blessed...and that you are.
"My children rise up and call me blessed. " Proverbs 31:28
"Children's children are the crown of
old men, and the glory of
children is their father."
Proverbs 17:6
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