In my prayers of praise this morning, I reflected on God’s incredible goodness to me as my Father. His love is rock solid, covering the multitude of sin I am prone to commit. His faithfulness to ancient promises that continue to transform me even today is breathtaking. I am so grateful for the faith God gave me to see who He is through Christ and His commitment to stay the course with me as I follow in Jesus’ footsteps as best I can. The purest and best of fathers.
I thanked God for my own father, Joseph Amicangelo, the one who had the most significant impact on who I am today. His face came into view as I imagined him in heaven with God. I see his captivating smile, his enthusiastic and welcoming presence that lit up a room. I could hear him laughing and singing among the choir of angels, rousing the communion of saints to join in the chorus. Fully alive and whole in his heavenly home, the fulness of God perfectly present in him.
I thought of my husband, Paul Kwasniewski, a man who saw his children as gifts from God entrusted to him for a time. He provided the necessities—a roof over their heads, food on the table, shoes and clothing—and more. He shared his love of learning from the hundreds of books he read, teaching them to read before they started school. He engaged them in meaningful conversation that taught them to think critically and examine their actions. More than anything, he wanted his children to experience the love and mercy of God that he’d found through Christ. I see his influence on their lives still today. I imagine him at peace, basking in God’s heavenly kingdom, no longer afraid of judgement, rejection or abandonment.
My thoughts carried me to Argyle Street, where I grew up in the 60s and 70s, to the many men who modeled what it was to be a good man—faithful husbands, hard workers who provided for their families, good neighbors who were always there to help when someone needed it. Carmen was one of them, a kind and thoughtful man, with a high-pitched voice who welcomed us to his porch on summer nights, engaging us in sometimes heated conversations about culture and politics. He made us laugh with stories and witty comments, and he modeled kindness and goodness, leaving an unforgettable mark on my life.
In rapid succession, I thought of my uncles—Fiore, Sam, Louie—who taught me about the value of extended family as we shared holidays and special milestones, offering me their love and concern over the years.
I thought of the men of God, spiritual fathers, who ministered to me through the teachings of Jesus—John Booher, Al Kresta, Jonathan Bratt, Steve Nickles, Dan Millward—men who demonstrated the Christian life in a way that made me want to live it all the more.
None of them perfect, but all of them offering a glimpse of the Father of all who is perfect.
