My Dad is the hardest working person I know.
Most days of the week he is flying all over the country helping some manufacturing plant run properly. He's a beast at what he does.
And he got that way by working for it.
No college degree.
No pedigree.
No favoritism.
No hand-outs whatsoever.
Grit, and wherewithal, and endurance, and bravery, and divine guidance - is how he busted into the awesome that he is.
A dyslexic child, who was told he would amount to nothing by ignorant teachers...
He was forecasted to achieve little in this life.
For him... the letters were switched up all sorts of ways. And the words wouldn't line up right. And the grade school instructors in 1960's Texas called him stupid, dumb, mean, worthless.
This one certain teacher in particular had a dumb row in her classroom. The person who sat in the front seat of the dumb row....was the dumbest.
That first desk belonged to my Daddy.
All 7 or 8 years of him, holed up in that sweaty wooden desk - labeled and slapped with a losing title from the get-go...
I picture him and his cole black hair, dangling legs, squinting eyes - and it makes me furious.
He has since picked up that dumb row desk and thrown it into a raging fire of passion and work ethic and watched it burn to bits.
Because when you live a life that blows the boundaries others have placed on you...
When you surpass odds...
And sail forth in the midst of setbacks...
And pave paths where others have told you there are only barricades...
You get to grab-hold of those others-induced limits, and catch them to hot flame.
(And your daughter gets to marvel at the wonder and blaze of it all!)
Isn't it incredible what we humans are actually capable of?
Isn't it grand that we have soared to moon landings...
And orbited heavens...
And built contraptions that jettison us across continents...
And invented ways to see and speak to people in real time from any spot on the globe...
And projected images onto giant theater screens...
And climbed massive mountains...
And written wildly beautiful volumes of books from imagination...
And so forth, and so forth...
Isn't it thrilling when a person breaks molds, and forges onward, and succeeds despite lowly estimations?
Marvel at this with me today!
Marvel at all the people you know who have punched prognosis and false prophecies in the face.
Marvel at their God-given gifts, tenacity, and unending drive.
And tell them you are doing so.
Show them you see.
Tell them you admire and admonish their fantastic feats.
And thank the Lord for their example, and inspiration, and fine life.
And then mimic their moxie.
My dad turns 59 this week.
He has strongly endured all of the almost 60.
And I have witnessed it.
And I stand next to that burnt dumb row desk...
And crush the ashes under my feet with him.
Because he has wrestled and he has won.
Marvel, friends.
And enjoy your birthday, Dad. (That desk had nothing on you.)
