I was considering yesterday on my birthday, something that made me really appreciate my father as I reflected on how he raised me and who he was. I recalled how Daddy never let us quit. I remember how I would be playing a game with my brother (who always cheated! lol) and I would want to quit. Then my brother would tell on me and daddy would say-"FINISH. Win or lose. Finish." There were times when I played sports with teams and for whatever reason I didn't want to play the rest of the year. But Daddy would make me-and all of my siblings for that matter, finish. There was no such thing as quitting in the middle. Starting something and not seeing it through was not an option in our house.
Then to add insult to injury Daddy would press us to do our best, to play our hardest even if we didn't want to keep playing. He would explain tersely, "if you start, finish. If you play, you play hard. If at the end of the season you don't want to play next year, fine. But don't start and quit in the middle."
As I reflect on these principles, I am so grateful. I admit, I wasn't grateful then, but now it is innately the way I live my life now. So when I pray and receive direction from the LORD and tests and trials come, and when the winds blow and the rains pour- I honestly flashback to when my father would say, "don't start and quit in the middle." I remember when I was young in the LORD and things were ruff and I didn't understand the concept of suffering. I would be so frustrated and so tired. But what was ingrained in me would manifest-by the grace of GOD- and I would remember- DON'T QUIT. When I considered whether or not I should pray or read my WORD or not, often times because I was frustrated or had the opportunity to do so I wanted to go hang out with friends or do other things. Then I would remember how my Daddy had said to play hard or not at all. Then I would throw myself more into the Bible and books about the BIBLE.
I am so grateful for learned perseverance. Thanking the LORD for my Daddy.
I remember when I used to go walking in the evening. I felt that being in my twenties qualified me for midnight strolls where ever I pleased. One evening while I was walking at Memorial Park in Oklahoma City, I received a call from my father. He asked me where I was. I simply told him where I was and what I was doing. It was around 11pm or so in the evening. He informed me that he was in town and asked how long I would be. The next thing I knew, I was looking at a van with 2 men sitting in it, who were looking at me! As one of the men approached me I was somewhat concerned. However, as he got closer I realized he was a family friend. The other man was my father. He had driven into town, about a 5-6 hour trip to take care of some business. And though he had worked a full day, at least 12 hours for him, he wasn't going to leave until I finished. At the time I had planned at least 4 more laps but I could see the fatigue in his face so I told him I was on the last lap and I would be finished shortly. I finished and we headed home.
I have walked many miles since then, and often late in the evening. And there are times that I can't help but to look up and hope to see his car or van. Hoping to see his silhouette gazing my way from the distance. At times I glance at my phone hoping that I have missed his call and there is a message inquiring about my whereabouts. I know it seems silly. But as I was walking the other day, the LORD reminded me that I am still being watched over. And just as my father kept an eye on me here in the natural, so my heavenly FATHER watches over me in the Spirit. And of course I know that my father is still watching over me as well.
I am blessed to have known a father such as this. Blessed to know that there was no amount of fatigue to assuage his concern. No amount of work to remove me from his mind. No event more relevant than my whereabouts. No situation insurmountable when he was involved. No time like the present to be there for the ones we love.
Perhaps the greatest lesson my father taught me was to dream and not allow the voice of the naysayers to deter reaching for your dream. This is perhaps the greatest lesson that I hold most dear. I remember when we were transitioning from a rural community to the inner city, Daddy took my brother, my mother and me to a really nice, reclusive neighborhood that was not too far away. As we drove around the neighborhood my father simply stated that: “this is what is possible”. One of the houses in the neighborhood looked like the house on “Fresh Prince of Bel Air”. It was not a lesson that he didn’t live by. Daddy was born in a small house, an African American born in a segregated society, who came from no means. And yet he despite his circumstance dared to dream and to pursue those dreams. He dreamed of being the best athlete in his home state, and one of the best in the country in his time- he accomplished this. He dreamed of going to a prominent university and becoming an All-American- he accomplished this. He dreamed of playing in the NFL- he accomplished this. He dreamed of earning a Ph.D.- he accomplished this. He dreamed of helping youth- he founded a non-profit organization and did this. Simply he taught me through his life to never let the odds intimidate you. And never let the nearsightedness of others to keep you from reaching for the stars.
I remember one evening in July I was driving in Forest Park in Oklahoma City. Many who are from the area know that the area is known for stopping any and everyone. A news report had come out around that time and stated that Forest Park received over 50% of its revenue from traffic tickets! However, on that evening it was necessary for me to drive through the area because I was headed to the home of a friend in the neighborhood. It was the late evening and we were preparing for a funeral scheduled for the next morning ,as they had lost a loved one.
As I made my way through Oklahoma City streets and passed several police cars who did not even look twice at me so I felt reasonably secure as I entered into the Forest Park Township. As I drove through, down an unlit street, I passed a car I could not see very well. I was alarmed when the car's lights began to flash and I then realized I was about to be stopped by the police. As the officer approached me I was relaxed and politely asked him why I had been stopped. He told me because I had a headlight out! I was astonished I had know idea I had any technical difficulties at all. I had been driving with my bright lights on since I was in a dark area. He asked for my licence and I gave it to him. He returned and told me that my licence had been suspended and "driving with a suspended licence was an arrestable offense, and that unless I could have someone meet me at the police station within an hour with the funds sufficient for my fines etc. I would be booked at the Oklahoma County Jail and held there until at least Monday since it was after all the Fourth of July Holiday weekend and the offices would be closed the next few days."
My first thought was WOW!!!! I have never been in trouble with the law in my life! And now I am going to the County for a headlight? I began to pray as the officer walked away. I called some people in town who said "call if you ever need anything". (You know the ones). They didn't bother to pick up the phone. All of the relatives I had in town were out of town on vacation and the rest of my family lived in other states. It was between 11pm and midnight on a Wednesday night and I didn't know what to do. I prayed and told the LORD, "well maybe there is someone in the County you want me to witness to, and I will have to get my 'Paul and Silas' on, but I don't want to go to jail and it doesn't make sense me missing the funeral." After I prayed that prayer my phone rang. As spoke quickly as I could see the officer coming back after having called the tow company. It was my "surrogate" family calling. To make a long story short they said they would come and get me. I told them my father would repay them the money ASAP it was just he was out of town.
I then found myself in a place I had never been-the back of a police car! They were taking me in. My car was being towed and we were driving off. I was allowed to call my father and he assured me he would send the money ASAP and thanked the people who were picking me up. That evening I called some people who never answered their phone. I needed to pick my car up. But to no avail, my poor little red car had to spend the weekend in lockup- but thankfully I didn't.
By the time Monday came my plan was clear. One of my friends came and took me to DPS. I found that the reason my licence had been suspended unbeknown to me was because a ticket I had received 7 months before! I had PAID the ticket! By the grace of GOD the man took me aside and said not to worry, it would not appear on my record. (thank YOU JESUS). My father had already sent the money to take care of all necessary expenses. He had to work a long shift and though he hadn't gotten off work until the wee hours of the morning, he came straight from Kansas to Oklahoma (about 5 1/2 hour trip one way) to get my car out of impound and while he was in Oklahoma City he made arrangements so that if it ever happened again I would know who to call, even without money, and things would be taken care of. He then got back on the road drove another 5 1/2 hours to go back to work. (PRAISE BREAK).
I remember testifying that "a lot of people talked but my DADDY came and got me!" I was so grateful then and I am now. Because in a time when so many don't know their fathers and even if they know who he is they can't call on him or don't know where he is. But I am so grateful for a father that would drive all night to see about his baby girl! And I can say that my father did no less for any of his other 8 children. He never lectured me about not checking on my licence. Never chided me for spending so much time with people who wouldn't help me in my hour of need. He just came down and took care of me, and made provisions on my behalf. He just came and got me.
This blog is dedicated to the memory of my beloved father. I was inspired to write it more recently for several reasons. One reason is that sense his passing on August 27, 2004 the lessons that he taught and that I "caught" from him are so much more clearer and relevant to me. Not because I necessarily didn't appreciate him while he was living, but because we truly are not able to understand another's journey without spending time in there shoes. My dilema has always been that his were big shoes to fill. But I admit right after he died I found myself in situations where the knowledge he left is what kept me going and informed my decisions.
Another reason for this blog is that around this time last year several people were telling me how they missed my father as well. These people weren't biological relatives. They were individuals whose lives were touched by my father. i have heard many young men say that my father was the only father figure they had ever had. And so these words are for them also.
Yet another reason for this writing is for those like my nieces and nephews and my unborn children who will not get to hear him say certain things or will not know him the way we did.
And finally, I would have to thank my dear friend Tameka Cooksey Horton for prompted me to move out of my haziness and really press to write and record "Diamonds from my Daddy". Tameka has founded an organization DADpr: Daughter's Advocating for Daddy's parental rights. To help raise funds for this much needed organization, Tameka has requested that whosoever will write and submit a story etc. about their relationship with their father's and lessons learned from him. This book compilation is titled "Diamonds from My Daddy". At the time of this writing submissions are still being added. Their cause can be found on Facebook.
So now I know I must write. Sweet Lessons from Sugar, is a blog dedicated to my father "Sugar" Ben Hart (http://www.facebook.com/benfhart). A legend in his time and a legacy since his passing. So I hope you enjoy this and find some nuggets to bless you in your life.
