Father's Day is nearly over but before the evening melts into Monday morning I realised I hadn't really celebrated much with my heavenly Father.
Indeed I sang my heart out at worship this morning and hoped it brought a little smile to God's face but whereas I sent my dad in England a card and called him in the afternoon, I realised I did neither things.
Not that I know anything of a direct phone line to the heavenlies or a post code either, but you get the gist.
So I did something I haven't done since my Kensington Temple Encounter days (a weekend retreat in the sort of boonies of Bournemouth, England). I wrote God a Father's Day in multi-coloured gel pens, nonetheless.
Of course I won't be posting this belated card anywhere, but at least when He looks in He'll see a card made out to Him. And know I thought of Him today. And I was thankful that He has stuck with me through my gripe and grief.
What a Dad.
Such a cool idea!
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