Short Arm Sean

A couple weeks ago, while in Iowa, I had opportunity to visit the gravesite of my dad. It’s a place I hadn’t been in almost 20 years and just felt like it was something I needed to do. After a bit of a journey, I finally found the right place. Most people visit a grave and reflect on the many memories that they shared with the person who has died. However, for me it was a little different. You see, my dad died when I was 3 and I don’t have a single memory of him.

What I did remember, as I stood in the cemetery, was the day my dad died. September 30, 1978 is my earliest childhood memory. I remember vividly the events of that day…coming home from the mall with my mom, seeing the police car in the driveway, the officer telling my mom to sit down and the uncontrollable crying that ensued, and the unanswered question that I kept asking – is daddy ever coming home?
As I was at the burial site of my father, I had no lifetime of memories to recall, but I did begin to wonder. What would my life be like had my dad lived? What if he stayed home instead of going for a motorcycle ride? What would be different had the young man driving a farm tractor been more cautious before pulling out onto the road that my dad was traveling on? What would Sean Sorensen be like had Joe Sorensen lived?

I guess since everything happened when I was so young, I grew up not really knowing the difference or what I was missing. My mom never remarried and worked hard to provide which meant that I was shuffled from babysitter to babysitter as a kid. Not having a dad meant that a friend’s dad taught me to ride a bike and a neighbor taught me how to shoot a jump shot. All of this just seemed normal.

I have felt a void all these years and I definitely would have loved to have my dad to watch me grow into a man, get married and meet his grandchildren. However, I feel that some good also came out of an otherwise tragic circumstance. When I was 15, I met Jerry Mahner, the youth pastor at what was to become my church. Jerry took the time to invest in my life and became the first really strong male influence in my life. As a result of his investment in my life, I am a youth pastor today.

Obviously God is bigger than the circumstances in my life and I could still be in ministry regardless of the death of my father, but who’s to say? Maybe God used the hole in my life to introduce Jerry and call me to do what I do. Maybe not having a dad meant I had a greater need to rely on my Heavenly Father. I can’t get a clear picture of how things would look had my dad lived but I do know that I love the way things turned out. Not having a dad has somehow made me a better dad. Growing up without a father has made me appreciate the time that I have with my own kids. Growing up with an unconventional family (if there still is such a thing) has made me appreciate the stability of my own family. Losing my father at a young age taught me a valuable lesson on the brevity of life and I love everyday that I live.

All of this reminds me of the story of Joseph (interestingly enough). Time and time again Joseph saw tragedy turn to triumph, loss to gain, and devastation to victory. Thank you, God, for using the circumstances of my life to shape me into who I am and for being a Father to the fatherless.