"If you knew me, you would know my Father also" John 8:19

My Senior Pastor asked me to write a little bit about my father for the Father's Day service on Sunday.  If you know me, it's difficult for me to write a little bit.  If you know my father, then you would also know that it is difficult to write just a little bit about him. My father often tells the story of my birth. He was in the Untied States Air Force at the ripe old age of 18.  As a young Black man in the 60's it was difficult of find a job that would support yourself, much less a family.  Faced with little or no options he joined the Service.  As my father tells the story, he stood in a long line at the public telephone booth and called home.  His mother said "it's a girl and her name is Toya" my father yelled down the line, "It's a girl and her name is Toya!" By the time the message reached the end, it was just like the game telephone, he had a Toyota (the car), he had a Toy (he calls me that to this day) and whatever else, they misconstrued the message to be.

My father always calls me his "love child" My mother was sixteen and pregnant, at a time that having a child out of wedlock was a cardinal sin (they were Catholic)...so they married.  Some would call it a "shotgun wedding."  In calling me his love child, my father tried to assure me, that I was not a mistake, and I was always wanted.  He succeeded.  I have always felt, that I had a purpose, and I was here because I was wanted and loved.

My father, was a career military man, and traveled the world.  The strain of being away and other mitigating circumstances (not necessary to mention here) caused my Father and Mother to divorce. But in his absence, I always knew who my father was. I remembered him during the years we were apart, because during the time we were together, he hugged me and kissed me. I remembered him, during the time we were separated, because he always told me, that I was the most precious daughter a man could have. I remembered him when he was not physically present because he called me his gift from God.

Today, not a day goes by, that my father does not tell me how proud he is of the woman I have become, even if he still calls me by my little girl name "Toy and Boo-boop-de-boop (don't ask me how to spell it).  I received many things from my father that money could never buy;  His great sense of humor, empathy for others, the ability to make and keep friends, the willingness to unabashedly show affection, help people and tell them that I love them.

In John 8, Jesus, said that His actions, His words, His behaviors bear record of who He is and who His Father is. So I will end this, with His words...If you knew me, you would know my father, also. Amen.