We all have stories to tell about a father and some of these stories are funny, some are of love, some are of encouragement and some filled with sorrow. It's a funny thing about remembering incidents that happened years ago and some of these incidents taught us a great lesson. 

One such event happened many years ago but I always remember it as if it happened yesterday. My father was a music teacher that traveled to farm homes or homes in smaller communities to teach his students. In his time, my father would drive hundreds of miles in a week going to different locations. He was never home in the evening because he left home around one pm each afternoon to start teaching and would return around ten or eleven o'clock long after everyone, except my mother, was fast asleep. 

Mom, on the other hand, was the ruler of the home ensuring that everything went accordingly to schedule, looking after me and my other siblings, cooking meals, washing clothes, cleaning and using disciplinary action as required. Now, it wasn't that I was a little hellion; it was more that there were far too many silly rules that caused me to always be in some sort of trouble. 

Mom was a strict taskmaster demanding that we all obey the rules and toiled the line without any excuses. And, when we didn't, there were always immediate consequences. Dad, on the other hand, was never around to have to worry about discipline. But, one day I got myself into a real bind and my mother rather than deal with the situation told me in no uncertain terms that my father would deal with me. Now, this was no idle threat since my impertinent behaviour was being referred to my father, but, I also knew I would be in bed long before he got home. 

I went to bed early just in case my dad came home. I figured it this way: I would asleep when he got home and therefore he wouldn't wake me to punish me, and by the time morning rolled around, I would be off the hook with all transgressions forgotten. 

Wow was I mistaken. I got up thinking all was well but instead, dad called me in to the playroom. He told me to sit down in the chair directly beside him and then proceeded to tell me how disappointed he was in me because he expected me to do what my mother asked when he wasn't home. He then told me that I would lose the privilege of playing with any of my toys for the next two days. You can imagine how I felt as a young boy not to be able to play with any of my toys for two days; it felt like an eternity. 

You know, I always remember that incident vividly even after all these years have rolled on by. The reason I remember it so well is that it taught me a good lesson. And, that lesson was that consequences will befall you no matter how much you don't want them too, or how much you bury your head in the sand and think that they will just go away like a bad dream. 

All through life, we make choices. Some of those choices lead to good things happening and some of those choices come back to haunt us. Consequences will catch up with you no matter who you are, or how smart you think you when you believe that you can avoid them. 

There are consequences to not taking action toward a dream or goal, there are consequences when you avoid meeting obstacles head long and resolving them, and there are consequences, good ones, when you take consistent action to deal with issues that you have to overcome in order to move your life in the direction you want.