This is Bill Kaufman. He's my dad.

When I was a toddler, I looked up to this man for obvious reasons. He was around 6' 2" and a burly bricklayer. I was a shrimp. My dad didn't raise fools. ??

I don't remember him sitting down and teaching me deep theological or philosophical thoughts to ponder. But I remember how he has lived.

I don't remember a single time that he came home and complained about his job. He climbed scaffolding in the heat of summer and did as much as he could when there was work in the icebox of winter.

Not once a complaint--at least that I remember. In fact, more often what I remember was that he'd go back to work in the evening to help pay for our bills.

Despite his commitment to providing, I remember him being at most of our sports games. I remember him giving backrubs after a particularly physical or disappointing game. I remember him talking kindly about other people, and striking up conversations with strangers everywhere we went.

I remember what he was like before Christ changed his life when Dad was in his early 50's, and I've seen his life become even more beautiful since.

I've learned over the years that Father's Day is difficult for many. They see posts about perfect dads and they know:

• they didn't have one, and
• (for those of us who are dads) they aren't one.

It's also a day that can be difficult if a dad is no longer with us.

If today is a particularly tough day, I apologize if this post makes it even more difficult. I've already prayed for you today.

It was a good day when I grew to be taller than this man. But I've never stopped looking up to Bill Kaufman. The older we both get, the more I want to be him. By the grace of God, may we all seek to be that to our kids.

I love you, dad. Happy Father's Day!