We are writing his Obituary today.
And how do you tell a man’s whole life in a few captions and paragraphs?
How do you convey to the world, the fullness of a man from childhood to gray hair, with just a single picture?
Yet, I see him in the details…
In the sun shining through the clouds on a rainy day, after burying him at Cypress Cemetery.
In Taps played by adorned Veterens, guns blasting in a twenty-one gun solute in the midst of his service.
I acknowledge the smoothness of casket selecting, Memorial planning, and the way our family trinkled in for three days straight, prior to his passing.
And yet, I detest cancer. I hate every ounce of something that took my Grandmother, and now my very own dad.
If I were to be spiritual, I might make the connection between soul refinement and how God uses all things for His glory, to draw all people, towards, not away from him.
But when you are sitting with a yellow skin giant, who now rests in skin and bones, and see such a beast take everything you’ve known to be good, pure, loving, kind…
It is hard not to be like Jacob who wrestled with God;
Questioning His sovereigning, demanding the blessing, yet losing the greatest gift, my heart has ever known.
And no, I am not Job; martyred and robbed from, victimized by circumstances everywhere I go.
I am blessed. The Blessing of the Father has landed on my head, ever since I can remember.
God’s goodness and ways have transcended time, my own earnings or right.
He has relinquished His grace and mercy on every single part of my life.
Yet still, I mourn.
I mourn today as I form block words, single paragraphs about the time of Memorial, family lineage, the Hospital my dad, myself, & my oldest children were born at.
I take what is large and messy and consolidate it into perfect, compact words that don’t do justice to my Father, to His life, or to His service.
Yet, the void seems endless.
The gapping hole seems endless; the missing of the solid force of life and strength I found comfort leaning on. Where
is my dad now to lean on?
And yet, I know He whispers down at me. He sees me. He leans in nearer and whispers to me, “I am here.”
Not necessarily my earthly father, but the God of the Universe…
The One who sprinkles stars into the night sky, parted the clouds, to show the sun on that day my Father was burried.
He is my ever-present help in time of need.
And oh, how I am needy.
Oh, how I toss and turn in the storms that have left me mixed with emotions, that no music can give lyrics to.
Every child needs their Daddy.
Every girl and boy are better when the Father’s in their life rise up and cover their child with comfort and peace, safety and blessings…
Regardless of what it may cost them.
Yet, I write his Obituary today. How can that be?
The greatest man I’ve ever known.
Jesus help me. I’m going to need you in increasing portions today.
A Father that cannot lie, owns and controls the skies. A Daddy that surrendered and gave up His life, for me.
I take ahold of you today, Good Father…
Even as I pen, the memory of my own earthly dad.
(Thank you for your prayers for our family during this time. It has been a difficult six months as my dad has battled cancer, AML. Our solice is we know He is with Jesus. We can’t wait to see him again!)
