I’m ready for a new week, even though I know it will bring trials of its own.
Last week was the hardest week I’ve faced in my life.
I said goodbye to my dad.
Part of me feels too weak for this. I loved my dad. More than I can express. I honestly wanted to sit this chapter of my life out. Seeing him battle cancer, seeing him hurt, that’s not what I wanted to see.
But sometimes it’s not about what we want. And sometimes we don’t know what’s best for us. I have decided that I need to thank God I was here for the trials that we faced through all of this. Not only so I could actually have time with dad. But so I could witness his strength.
See, my dad was a fighter at heart. And he loved God with all of his heart. He never faced his battle with a ‘poor me’ attitude, but with the perspective of a conqueror. He knew, he knew! our God is capable of healing broken bodies. He believed that it could be done for him as well.
I so desired to see him healed, not even for selfish reasons (and especially for selfish reasons!). Seeing the strength of my dad’s faith, I kept wanting to see his heart’s desire met. To be healed.
But it was my dad’s time to go be with Jesus.
God didn’t fail my dad. God didn’t fail us. His ways are perfect. And as much as I grieve, who am I to want to keep someone from time with their Saviour? My dad is healed, he is made whole! It just didn’t happen on this side of heaven’s gate.
I’m so glad that, even in some of his most pain ridden hours, I was able to witness my dad’s selflessnes, his desire to forget himself. He always wanted to know how I was doing. He was worried about me worrying about him. (So then I would worry about him worrying about me worrying. I’m all for pointless cycles apparently) When dad would get a phone call from one of my sisters, or someone else, I’d almost always overhear him respond, “Okay, but how are you doing?” His concerns were almost always for others. And he was concerned that mom was having to do so much.
And speaking of my mom… My beautiful, compassionate, graceful, spectacular mom. My mom has been a rock through this. Her faith has been evident through all things. She is a source of strength for all of us going through this. But most of all, she is love. My mom is a living example of what love should be…
Love is patient,
Love is kind.
It does not envy,
It does not boast,
It is not proud.
It is not rude,
It is not self-seeking,
It is not easily angered,
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects,
Love never fails.
Thank you mom and dad for always hoping, always persevering, always trusting. The world would be a lot better if more people believed in loving like you do.
I grieve. My heart aches. I miss my dad. A lot.
But, as conflicting as this will sound, I will also try to rejoice. How many people in this world are as privileged as I am? How fortunate I was to have parents who loved each other, who were committed to each other, and their family! How blessed was I to be raised in a home with a focus on knowing that we are loved by our Creator, designed with a purpose.
So, I know I will struggle, but I will choose to hold onto the hope of eternal life, which God, who does not lie, promised us. He promised! I will hold onto the hope that I will see my dad again.
But if I’m completely honest about my selfishness, I’ll admit that I’d rather just be holding onto my dad’s hand instead.