I went to see my Dad in Seattle this past Christmas. It might be the last time I see him alive. His brain is deteriorating and he is losing the ability to control his body.

    I’ve not always appreciated my father. In fact, when I was growing up, he embarrassed me. He had a loud voice and loud laughter. He would almost shout a greeting to people across the room. Then he would greet them with a vigorous handshake or bear hug or strong slap on the back, laughing all the while. Everyone knew my father:  the energetic, friendly guy. Dad said he did this to compensate for being shy. I just wanted him to be like everyone else’s dad.

    My dad was physically strong but he wasn’t good at sports. He had a loud voice but he wasn’t a good speaker. He was raised on a farm but wasn’t very good at growing things. He didn’t have an impressive job or a college degree. To me, he seemed less than average.

    I took it for granted that he had faith in Jesus. We went to church every week. He read the Bible. He served at the church wherever there was a need, whether he had the ability or not. Mostly not. He’s not good at teaching, yet he taught Sunday School for over 20 years because there is always a need for Sunday School teachers. He doesn’t have a high voice, but he sang tenor in the choir because they didn’t have one.  I wondered why he did things he was bad at.

    Wherever he went, he talked with people. If he didn’t remember someone’s name, he didn’t pretend to remember it, he asked for it again. He was the friend of exchange students, church leaders, the homeless, company presidents, prisoners, immigrants, the handicapped. Because he was their friend, he found out about their needs. And he went out of his way to help people. I often wished he would spend more time taking care of his own business.

    But at 85 years old, the fruit of his life is shown. While we were at the nursing home, a middle aged man from our church visited my Dad. He had been in the youth group when my Dad was a leader and wanted to tell Dad how much that youth group meant to him. He described lessons he learned being with my Dad. Several students who had lived in Seattle for a time flew from Hawaii just to see my Dad. They said, “Kiyo was church for us while we were in Seattle.”

    Sunday school children once likened Dad to Mother Theresa. We found an old photo of my Dad barbecuing chicken. It was given to him and on the back is a poem from the youth group. The final line said “You loved us.”

    In I Cor. 1:27-28 it says, “God purposely chose what the world considers nonsense in order to shame the wise, and he chose what the world considers weak in order to shame the powerful. He chose what the world looks down on and despises and thinks is nothing, in order to destroy what the world thinks is important.” Why did He do that?

    Because, (2 Cor. 4:5-7 “Remember,) our Message is not about ourselves; we’re proclaiming Jesus Christ, the Master. We are just messengers, errand runners from Jesus for you. … We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. That’s to prevent anyone from confusing God’s incomparable power with us.”

    God’s treasure, His infinite, powerful love, flowed out of the foolish clay pot of my dad’s life. Fellow Christians, let us be willing to let Jesus’ love flow out of our lives. God’s message of love only rings true when we who hold the message let God shine through us. In small ways, like my Dad, let’s live out the love of Jesus so our friends and fellow students can know that what is being taught from the Bible is true.