From the time I was a tiny child to a Grammy in her 70’s, there were many moments when an embattled me sought the refuge of my Dad’s love and wisdom. No battle I ever faced was beyond my Dad’s ability to navigate me through. Only since he’s gone home to heaven, have I fully realized that the foundation on which he guided me through each and every war zone was one and the same. My Dad steered me in the opposite direction of giving up and quitting not because I was born of being a winner but because I was a God borne child.
No matter how many pieces I felt my life broken into, my Dad helped me grasp the sole (and soul) peace that would re-bind my journey into declarative chapters over interrogative sentences. With comforting encouragement, my Dad’s words soothed my worldly wounds with the balm of remembering that “I am a child of God and God is carrying me”, versus “why am I so hopelessly torn apart and where is God when I most need Him?”. Dad’s conversations were never a band aid camouflaging my sores. They were God’s sutures, healing my devil inflicted lacerations.
My Dad spoke one very simple truth. At times, I might have heard him speak with different accents, but the translation was one and the same. On every occasion, my Dad guided me back to remembering “who” (I am a child) and “whose” (of God) I am. Then, he would always have me re-emphasize “GOD IS CARRYING ME”. Finally, my Dad would reverently remind me that THE CHOICE TO STOP ISN’T YOURS IF GOD IS CARRYING YOU!!! Thus, onward and upward, I would go!!!
Guiding me, probably, merited my Dad much of his entry into eternity. No one deserves a berth in heaven more than my Dad, but never a moment goes by that I don’t miss him and selfishly wish his purpose on earth wasn’t yet completed.
Dad, you taught me well. Lesson is learned; but, as you knew and over and over again instructed me, it’s one that, in this fallen world, so often needs repeating.
Uplifted in a Broken Down World 