The Office

This past week, we spent some time in Florida helping my parents move. They have been pastoring in Plant City, Florida for the past 10 years and are now "semi-retiring" in Zephyrhills, Florida. It was great to help them get situated and transition to the new homeplace in the hills. I am so excited for them as they begin this new season of life.

This year celebrates 30 years of pastoring for my dad...Carl Hemphill. This is a man you need to know...a story to feast on. I am the youngest of 4 sons and the only son born to my dad as a believer...that is my claim to fame! My dad is a first generation follower of Jesus. No one in his family chose the life of faith and paved the way for him. In his early 30's God pursued this young prodigal and brought him home. It was shortly after that, I was born and my dad was called to ministry/shepherding. My parents' journey over the last 30 years has taken them to several churches and places of ministry. Through it all, they have been faithful to the call of shepherding people's hearts and loving God's bride, the church.

So, last week, I was in my dad's office helping him pack up books and load everything up. It was one of those weird moments for me. This office represented many years of ministry for my dad. This office also represented many childhood memories of me hanging out with my dad at the church. I used to love my dad's office. I would go there and look at his books and hang out. The smell of his cologne mixed with old Baptist dust/mildew would fill the air. His offices were never that glamourous...a simple chair, wooden desk, bookshelves, typewriter, and a few chairs. But I always enjoyed being there. It was one of the places that I could "be" with my dad and just enjoy his presence. As a young boy, that is so important...so needed...to feel and sense the presence/weight of your father.

So, packing up my dad's office was kind of weird. I did not say anything to my dad at the time...these thoughts were all just racing through my mind. But I was saying goodbye to some things. He was saying goodbye to some things. He chose a few books that he wanted to take to the new house. I was able to go through the libary and pick out several books that I wanted to read. Actually, it was not that. I picked out these books...to take him with me. I am sure that I will read through many of these books. A lot of them will sit on my shelf. These books, though, represent a piece of the journey. They remind me of the office...his presence...our relationship.

This may all be sounding a bit morbid to some...I mean my dad is still alive. But, all of this to say, last week I helped my dad close a chapter of his life. And I remembered a chapter of my life. And, through it all, God is still writing...taking up the pen...authoring new days in both of our journeys.