The man in the bow tie

Today, I saw, like never before the faith of our father's passing down from generation to generation. Dad Walker's uniform daily, in sickness and in health was a white shirt and bow tie and he walked and greeted everyone. I had the privilege of trying to serve him (though he, cantankerously resisted any real care of his needs). Learning about him and trying to make sure that he wasn't too sick to be alone in the house, was really my job.
Daily and on holidays when he wore that white shirt and that bow tie he was stating to the world and to my neighbors that he was a MAN OF GOD. Men need and we all need reminders of this sometimes. In the world and dealing with the world but not of the world. He is a reminder of putting on the whole armor of God to me today. He is a reminder that although we believe in the providence of God and we are struggling to keep body and soul together and have responsibility for 7 other souls and bodies than our own; the God of glory loves us and takes care of us and we can trust him. He kept reminding me and himself that it was God who laid it on my heart to serve him and so I should take no glory in it and that was true; but as much as I cried about the difference in our perspectives and the sense of loss of self that I was feeling with him in our home, was as much as I carry the lessons that his faith was to teach his son and his grandchildren, hopefully for generations to come. They who sow in tears shall reap in joy. The memory of the soldier of the Lord who changed my life will go with me to my grave and teach me to fight the good fight of faith.