On November 21, 2012 life as I had known it came to a screeching halt. It was the day before Thanksgiving when Dad got his promotion from this first world into eternity. It was the worst day of my life and the beginning of the most difficult journey I have ever had to walk.
In some ways, I feel abandoned by God, as if He somehow slighted me. So many whys swirling around in my mind…so many unanswered questions. Questions that I know, logically, will never be answered in this life but that doesn’t make me want the answers any less. I ask myself why God heals some in this world and chooses not to heal others here on this earth. Is one life worth more to Him here and others worth more to Him in Glory? Do our prayers really move God? If He has already seen the beginning to the end…is there any altering that plan? Is it possible to pray “Thy will be done” and really mean it…I mean afterall, we are flesh and our human nature wants what we want…right? I wanted my Dad to be healed; restored to perfect health here in this life. I love him and need him…I want him here. Why didn’t he receive the healing that we prayed and believed for – healing that we trusted God to bring to fruition? I know that God could have, at any moment, raised my Dad up and brought him perfect health so that he could have continued to preach and teach the Word of God. But no healing came and I stood by the bed of my wonderful, precious earthly father as he passed from this world into eternity. Those gathered with us in those moments raised our voices in praise to the Heavenly Father that we had believed would heal this faithful servant…but no miracle came…no Lazarus moment. Where was our miracle?
On the bad days…I cry and I have a knot in the pit of my stomach that won’t go away. I feel this overwhelming desire to “fix it” knowing that it can’t be fixed…EVER. Today, right now, I feel as though this hole in my soul will remain with me until I see my Dad’s sweet million dollar smile again. On these days, which happen more often than not, I feel as though there is no laughter left…but I know this isn’t the way Dad lived and he wouldn’t want this for me. I know that his legacy is one of faith and hope…the hope of Glory in Christ Jesus.
On good days, I know that we did, in fact, receive a miracle…the miracle of my Dad’s eternal life; a life that he now lives out in the presence of the Lord that he served so faithfully for so many years. I know that he is well and happy and free. I no longer have to worry about his health and well-being because he is in perfect health. I’m sure that if they play sports in Heaven, my Dad has already got a team together in at least 2 (basketball and football). On good days, I can see God’s mercy in my Dad’s situation and the love He has for my Daddy and I can see, through tears, the love the Heavenly Father has for me through the people He allows to cross my path…those folks to help me and hold me up during this journey.
So, I get up every day and try to be the best wife and mother that I can be in the moment and hope that my children love me as much I as love my Dad. I say love rather than loved because I still love him…he isn’t here with me but my love, I believe, reaches all the way to Heaven and I know that my Dad continues to feel the love of his family and friends.
This may seem like rambling…and it may be…but I figure I have to start somewhere and this is point A for me. I hope that whatever journey you are on, that you aren’t traveling alone. I hope that you have people surrounding you, as I do, who are willing to let you walk the journey at your pace all the while holding your hand.
My journey through grief is really just beginning…I hope that somehow sharing my thoughts along the way not only help bring healing to my heart and soul but help others in whatever part of the journey they are in. It is my desire to live the kind of godly life that my Dad lived. He didn’t just tell me to live a godly life…he lived one and let me watch and I am forever grateful that I had the privilege to be Darryl’s daughter.