I know people are probably tired of hearing about my daddy. Well tough shit... it's how I keep him alive and I wish everyone on this planet knew him. To know Jim Richardson was to know love. I've always said he was the one person by his actions, that taught me what the love of Jesus was really about. I know I am not the only person he gave that gift to. He swore like a sailor, he certainly wasn't perfect, but in his actions he gave perfect love. James 2 : 1-4 always makes me think of the first time he showed me what true love was to where I understood. “My brothers and sisters, do you with your acts of favoritism really believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ? For if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say, “Have a seat here, please,” while to the one who is poor you say, “Stand there,” or, “Sit at my feet,” have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?”
As a child we attended a very small church in downtown Atlanta. Not in the best neighborhood, but it's a "mission state" and there aren't very many churches of this denomination. So, we took what we could get. I miss this church. I always say I can walk the halls in my head like I was there yesterday. The smell of crayons and playdoh immediately take me back to Sunday School and coloring a rainbow Jesus floating in yellow clouds. (I was into technicolor.) I knew who had candy in their pocket, who would give me a quarter for a gum ball, and I knew that sitting next to daddy was way more fun than sitting next to mom.
One Sunday I was sitting with daddy and he kept looking back behind him. Mom was talking to everyone in-front of her as she usually did no clue as to what was going on. I turned to look at what had his interest over playing " Pull my finger" and there stood a knarley looking guy covered in tattoo's. I am not going to lie he looked scary. We also had another family come in that was visiting and several people got up to welcome them and talk to them. Daddy sat there shaking his head frustrated, and said, "I'll be right back". I watched him go up to the scary guy and start talking to him. Daddy came walking back to our pew with him and introduced us. He smiled and the warmth of that smile showed me a humble curious man. He told him he would love for him to sit with our family if he could deal with restless children through the service. He agreed and sat between me and mom.
Now, before I finish, this day and age what would one think? Ask yourself and answer honestly, would you go up to the tattoo'd man rough around the edges, walls up, and hardened by life? Would you ask him to sit with your children and wife? Would you even bother to ask him his name?
I couldn't tell you what the service was about that day, I was too busy staring at this poor guy, fascinated with his tattoo's, and he was probably extremely uncomfortable with this tiny toe-headed girl wanting to hold his hand and trace his tat's. When the service was over several people came up to him and introduced themselves, asked him questions, and thanked him for coming in. Daddy, well... he went that extra mile and for him it was an effortless second nature. He asked him to come to lunch and to come back next Sunday. While he couldn't go to lunch he came back that next Sunday and the Sunday after for a couple of months.
At the end of every sermon we ask people to come down and ask for prayers, or if one is ready to take on the Lord in baptism that is their opportunity. One special Sunday, my tattoo'd wall's up, hardened by life friend got up and walked down the aisle. We had no idea what was fixing to happen. He asked our preacher if he could speak before he was baptized. Of course Jack who was an amazing preacher was happy to let him tell his story.
The day he showed up at our church, he was just released from prison for attempted murder and drug charges. He had been in jail for quite sometime and upon his release he knew he wanted to change his life and understand what God was about. He had read the Bible in jail and thought Jesus was a pretty awesome guy, but he also knew the rejection he might have to face and his fear of that rejection b/c of his appearance. In the past Christians had never been kind to him. They treated him as something they found repulsive and could be very inhumane. He didn't understand if they followed this guy Jesus who showed love to everyone, forgave those that murdered him while he was suffering slowly dying on a cross, how they could be so cold and cruel to him.
As scared as he was to cross that threshold he did, and he went home and cried that day for the first time in his life, because a man who had every reason to fear him held out his hand to love him. It made him want to know more, want to change his life and want to share that love with others. So that day he was baptized. It was amazing! Daddy cried, mom cried, I was so excited because he was a new man. When he raised up out of that water he hugged Jack so hard he was just as covered in water. Man... how freaking powerful is that? I can't even type this and not melt into a puddle and feel like my heart could explode.
He continued to sit with us until one day the church disbanded and we all had to go our separate ways. I honestly in the haze and angst of being a teen had forgotten him. Boys came along, the drama followed, life happened and it wasn't until my daddies funeral I was reminded. Jack told the story first, of my dad and the tattoo'd man that was rough around the edges, walls up, hardened by life. In a rush it all came back to me. How could I have forgotten that and the lesson he taught everyone in that building that day?
Daddy was my greatest example of unconditional love. People had turned their back on him, judged him, and hurt him time and time again, but he never stopped loving anyone. I can think of no lesson more valuable to give your child than that of unconditional love. In life it is easy to accept the clean person who looks like the ideal of what we think one should be. We seem to have a thing for the rich and famous, desiring to see their homes, wanting to know about their personal lives, following them on social media, while we sometimes ignore the poor and drive by the homeless.While not extending a hand to the man wanting to be loved and to know God. God makes no distinctions with people with regard to wealth. He loves us all the same. He loves His children because of who we are, not because of what we’re worth, and He wants us to do exactly the same.
My dad was the greatest man I have ever known because he changed lives. He had no money, but he had heart. He took in those who needed love the most with no care of what they had, b/c who we are is children of God. He was never concerned about his own self worth but giving that worth to others. No matter how much we are hurt by others we can still show them love. We can't make anyone take it , but we can make sure no matter what we give it. It's what he did. It's what James saw Jesus do, it is the example we are commanded to live by. It's also much more easy to love than it is to hate. While we can throw up our walls and refuse to be vulnerable, it really is the hard way. It might seem easier to not try, but we miss so many opportunities to change the world around us for the better.
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