Tim Ellsworth

Dear Daniel,

Every night about supper time, you ask me the same question.

“Daddy, can we take the puppy dogs for a walk?”

“Sure,” I reply.

“To Union?” you’ll ask.

“Yeah, I think we can do that tonight,” I might say.

And typically, not long after supper, we’re heading down the road in our little red truck, with two dogs panting and pacing in the back.

It’s a question I expect to get from you every day, because walking the dogs is one of your favorite things to do. In fact, I think you enjoy walking the dogs with me more than anything else. I have to admit, the feeling is mutual. And Suzy and Gus are always happy to accommodate, too.

Until about a year ago, we’d take Suzy and Gus almost every night up to the local elementary school, where they could run free and you could play on the playground. But then I bought a pickup truck. So now, while we still go to the elementary school regularly, two or three times a week we’ll take a jaunt to Union University.

These regular walks around campus have given us the opportunity to spend many precious hours together. We’ll talk about whatever’s on your mind. Sometimes I go over your memory verses with you. Sometimes we’ll sing a song. Sometimes you’ll talk to Grandpa and Grandma on the cell phone while we’re walking. Sometimes we’ll take your bicycle or your new red scooter with us, and you’ll ride around campus. You do fine except for some of the bigger hills we have to climb, and so I’ll loop one of the dog’s leashes around either the bike or the scooter, whichever you’re riding, and pull you along behind me. I treasure these times with you.

When we started going to Union for our walks, the university had just begun construction on a new science building, called White Hall. The three-story structure sits at the entrance and greets us every time we show up. At first, there wasn’t much of a building to see, as it took several weeks to get the site ready and the foundation laid.

But gradually and steadily, the building progressed. Soon the steel beams were in place, and the building reached its full height. “Daddy, I see the tall building!” you’d exclaim every time we arrived, with wonder in your voice. I wouldn’t necessarily classify a three-story building as “tall,” but I guess it must seem enormous to a 3-year-old.

Sometimes we pass by the building as construction personnel are hard at work. You often point out to me the backhoe and the other big pieces of machinery. We hear the workers clank, clank, clanking away on the roof, or watch them laying bricks around the outside. What used to be only a drawing has morphed into an impressive facility. It will be complete in only a few short weeks.

As I watched the work taking place, and the building going up little by little, I couldn’t help but notice the same thing happening with you. When we started going for walks at Union, you were only 2 years old. You sometimes had trouble keeping up with me, and so I’d often have to slow down, or stop completely, and let you catch up.

But now, a year later, the changes are dramatic. You’ll race off ahead of me, running as fast as you can. Instead of waiting for you or encouraging you to walk faster, I’m often yelling at you to slow down.

Just as we’ve watched White Hall go up, changing from an empty space into a massive structure, I’m watching my little boy grow up little by little. And just as White Hall will soon be complete and fully operational, no longer in need of construction workers, I know there’s coming a day — much too soon, for my liking — when you’ll leave our home and be on your own. Our daily walks together will become a thing of the past.

My prayer is that during these short years in our care, you will grow into a young man who, like the facility we’ve watched being built before our eyes, will tower over the surrounding landscape. I want you to become a man who’s sturdy, and solid, and strong – a man who no longer needs me to wrap a leash around his bike and gently pull him up a steep hill.

And I want you to learn to draw that strength from our loving God, the one who is our strong tower and our mighty fortress. He alone can give you strength for the task before you. He alone will walk beside you for the rest of your journey through this life. He alone can one day carry you in his powerful arms into an eternity of rest, where I’ll be anxiously awaiting your arrival, and we can forever enjoy our walks together again.

Love always,

Dad