A Year Ago...

Dad 02/05/1937 - 09/12/2011

A year ago today, my Dad died and since then, I have learned some things that I would not have been able to articulate prior to that day.  During the run up to his death, there were many people who prayed for my family and through texts, phone calls and visits to the hospital, offered their assistance if we needed anything.  At the time, I was at a loss to explain what we may have needed, but it was comforting to know that help was available if I ever figured out what would be helpful.

During the week between his death and the memorial service, I tried to grasp the utter depth of Christ's love that I experienced, though my human heart was deeply unsettled by the fact that I did not know for sure if I would ever see Dad in Heaven or not.  As a Christian, I felt as if I had failed to show him what he needed to see in order to renew a commitment he had made years before I was ever born.  I was unable to acknowledge that it is only through God and a willing heart that a person makes a decision to serve Him.  God does not remove our free will.  Because of this, in spite of what I did or failed to do, ultimately, the decision was Dad's to make regardless of what he saw in me.

At different times, this past year has been very dark for me.  There have been countless times when I wanted nothing more than to hear my Dad's voice, to be able to visit him and laugh with him about something.  There were difficult situations that came up and I thought I needed or wanted his advice about them.  The irony of it was that if he was still available, these situations would not have come up in the first place. It was a strange juxtaposition and difficult to think about.  NASCAR started without him to talk to and I could hardly watch the Superbowl without fighting tears.  When the girls had their first swim meet at home, I almost started crying at the pool remembering the times last year when he was there, though it must have been physically painful for him to make the effort. 

Dad reading to kids Gburg 2003

There were (and still are) times at church when someone will pick one of the songs we sang at his funeral and it never fails to take me back to his service and make me miss him all over again.  Mom and I played, "In the Garden" and I can hardly stand to even think about that song anymore and I'm not sure I will ever be able to hear Dad's favorite, "How Great Thou Art", without thinking of the impact that song has had on my family or without fighting tears.  My friend's Grandfather died six months after Dad did and some of the details of his life's end were eerily reminiscent of Dad's death and hard to hear about at the time.  The list goes on and on...

As an introvert, I find it incredibly hard to talk about this stuff.  I view my own tears as a weakness and I am frustrated with myself when they come in public and even sometimes at home.  Crying feels out of control to me and I don't like that feeling.  Yet, there have been times in the past year when I have utterly failed in keeping them at bay.  I know there are things I need to say aloud, but it has only been recently that I have been able to articulate the depth of the loss.  In the interim, I turned to composing music (don't worry, you aren't going to be hearing any of it any time soon!), writing (of course) and I started a different blog about grief, though most of what I have written is archived, unpublished and will probably remain so for the foreseeable future.

However during the past year, there is one thing that has been evident: even in the midst of the pain, I have seen the face of God, His love and mercy.  It was evidenced to me first in nature.  I started walking and I would see His love in the beauty of the intricate details of the Queen Anne's Lace that dotted the trails.  When I took the kids to the lake this past summer, a heron took flight and I was reminded of the freedom I have in Christ.  Its' mournful call was reminiscent of the cry of my own heart and I thought, "I hear you buddy and so does God. He sees both of us."  I watched sunsets and sunrises that colored the horizons in vibrant colors that could only come from the hand of the Creator and I saw His majesty and sheer power in the constellations.  When the sun continued to rise in the East, I heard him beckon to me: "Trust Me, daughter.  I am still in control."

Geese fly in a "V" formation for good reason; they get to their destination faster since they have an aerodynamic advantage in flying this way.  The "point" goose flies until it is tired and then drops back so the next can take over.  The geese in the back honk their encouragement to the ones in the front.  If one goose gets sick and lands, at least two others go down with it and stay until the sick goose either recovers or dies.

Dad with B one day old 10/12/2001

I'm not dead yet, but I have certainly been grounded this year; sick, wounded, wondering if I would recover from this loss of my Dad in addition to other problems weighing me down.  And yet, as I watched the geese fly south last Fall and when they returned in the Spring, I knew that my brothers and sisters in Christ were "grounded" with me while at the same time encouraging me to persevere.  There were ones who sat with me early on and didn't judge me when all I could do was come up with one-liners to laugh about while inside my heart was breaking.  There were ones who sent cards and made phone calls or sent text messages, thereby reminding me that I was not alone.  One person has asked me at least 52 times (I am not exaggerating.  This person has asked me at least weekly, if not more) since last September 12, how I was doing and if there was anything that they could do.  This never failed to remind me that I was not alone; that others remembered the loss my family had sustained.  Others have allowed me to vent my hurt, frustration and anger over things that happened that should have been handled in different ways which reminded me that even when things seem out of control, God is always in control. 

Dad and Richard in Gburg 06/2011

Through it all, they have shown me the depth of the love that Christ has for me.  They temporarily halted their own progress to sit in the meadow with me, their wounded sister, so that I would not lose sight of the mercy of Jesus.  There are no adequate words to thank them for this; only a humbleness and gratefulness of heart that they would take the time to show the mercy of Christ to a hurting soul.

I still miss my Dad, but I think I have a little better perspective on it now.  A year ago, it was so bad, I thought I might not survive.  When I lost sight of the goal of Heaven, someone would say something I needed to hear or something would happen and I would remember where my hope is.  It isn't based upon anything this world has to offer;  it is found only in my risen Savior.  I have been living in the secret place of the Most High in the shadow of the Almighty, while He hid and protected my soul during this past year and I know that He will continue to uphold me with His right hand of righteousness. 

I don't think I'm flying yet, but I will be soon and when I am back in formation, I won't forget my brothers and sisters who "grounded" themselves and reached out to help.  Then it will be my turn to encourage someone else along the way.  That's how it works in God's family and I'm grateful to be a part of it.

Revelation 21:4 And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

Psalm 91:1-2 He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.
 
Isaiah 41:10 Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.

Psalm 62: 5-8 My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him.
6 He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defense; I shall not be moved.
7 In God is my salvation and my glory: the rock of my strength and my refuge, is in God.
8 Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. Selah.