Dad's Snores

I've been spending more time in the house of prayer recently. I'm finding it's really hard to pray at the end of the day because I have an incessant need to mentally process everything that happened throughout the day (I learned that's what dreams are for). But when I was sitting there half-worshipping, half-thinking about things, I started thinking about my dad. I seldom think back to what it was like before the divorce and before my dad moved out. But the other day I recalled--I am pretty sure by the Spirit's leading--his snores. My dad's snores were the kind that you could hear from across the hall, the kind that shook doors. It's because when he came home at night, he was always exhausted from work. A lot has happened since things fell apart and a lot has been assumed of him, but the memory of his snores are a sign to me in the present that there was a part of his heart that genuinely cared for us. And as much as my pride, unforgiveness, and logic tell me to ignore this seemingly insignificant memory of snores, I will choose to hold on to and run with it. 

I would have never remembered something as small as that upon thinking of my dad. I usually think about his shortcomings, his wrongs, the many ways he's hurt us as a family. But his snores also speak volumes about the day-in and day-out of trying to provide for a family. Only God would bring up something as small yet powerful as snores.

Happy Father's Day :). May you all see your fathers through eyes of grace today.