{"id":144,"date":"2015-03-17T19:59:35","date_gmt":"2015-03-18T00:59:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/?p=144"},"modified":"2015-03-17T19:59:35","modified_gmt":"2015-03-18T00:59:35","slug":"my-dads-knees","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/?p=144","title":{"rendered":"My Dad&#8217;s Knees"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>A while back, I noticed something about my Dad. \u00a0His knees had HUGE callouses on them. \u00a0 \u00a0Because I know him, I was instantly aware of where these callouses came from. \u00a0As I thought about that, this poem began to form in my mind. \u00a0I can think of no greater way to honor him than to tell him I noticed this about him.<\/p>\n<p><!--more--><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">My Dad&#8217;s Knees<br \/>\nJune 6, 2014<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">There have been many struggles in my life.<br \/>\nLike many others, I&#8217;ve experienced times of strife.<br \/>\nThe things I&#8217;ve done haven&#8217;t always been bad.<br \/>\nThe good from the bad comes from the knees of my Dad.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">You see, his knees are calloused and worn.<br \/>\nThey got that way, from talking to the Lord.<br \/>\nOh, the countless hours he spent there praying for me.<br \/>\nWhere would I be now, if not for my Dad&#8217;s knees?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Whether my circumstance looks good or bad,<br \/>\nI know I can put in a call to my Dad.<br \/>\nI know that the first place he&#8217;ll go<br \/>\nTo talk to God about me, that&#8217;s what his knees show.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">So calloused and worn, I&#8217;m proud to see<br \/>\nBecause I know how that look came to be.<br \/>\nHe got there, so I could get to here,<br \/>\nDad&#8217;s knees teach me there&#8217;s nothing to fear.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">I hope that one day, I can look down and see<br \/>\nGiant callouses surrounding my knees.<br \/>\nLove without boundries, that&#8217;s Dad&#8217;s way I know.<br \/>\nI look at his knees&#8230;that&#8217;s what they show.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A while back, I noticed something about my Dad. \u00a0His knees had HUGE callouses on them. \u00a0 \u00a0Because I know him, I was instantly aware of where these callouses came from. \u00a0As I thought about that, this poem began to form in my mind. \u00a0I can think of no greater way to honor him than [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"My Dad's Knees","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[3,6,30],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-144","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-family","category-personal","category-poetry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p3Mji6-2k","jetpack_likes_enabled":false,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/144","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=144"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/144\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":145,"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/144\/revisions\/145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=144"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=144"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/musings.butchevans.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=144"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}