I don't even know how to begin this so I'm just going to jump on in there.
There comes a point in all of our lives when you lose your parents if you live long enough. I don't think you truly appreciate the concept of that loss until you are an adult yourself, but as you age the reality of that loss becomes more real with each passing year.
We have had some rough times with our parents. If you read back over the blogs from my past you will see countless references to those rough times as we struggled to survive the onslaught of failing health.
I'm going to let you in on a little secret...I didn't have the perfect childhood. I honestly don't think such a thing exists as long as you are living with humans that is basically an oxymoron.
But I had a GOOD childhood. I knew without a doubt from day to day that I was well loved.
And living within the confines of my flesh is a combination of the two people who shaped me into the person I am. That makes me doubly blessed.
I got a call from my sister this past Friday with news about my father.
The news was not good.
One of the physicians went as far as to say he was "behind the eight ball."
So, we hastily packed and set off for Louisiana for what I believed was goodbye.
Now, let me tell you WHY I believed that.
We are in revival like I have never seen before. From all the accounts coming in about my father I knew things were headed south, so to speak. The minister called me forward for prayer and we agreed that the decisions I could see coming for my family would be taken out of our hands.
And I know, without a doubt, that we touched God.
The next day I get the call. It's bad. And I knew....
On the way there my sister called...they said he may even go that night.
Once again I asked for prayer. At least let me be able to tell him how much I love him, that he is, by FAR, the best Daddy that has ever lived.
And I wept and prayed until I could go no further.
We arrived the next morning to await the 6am visit. My sister and I went in and there he was, for the first time in 2 weeks, his mind was clear.
We spent that day telling him over and over that he was loved, especially after he overheard the doctors outside of his door saying he was not going to make it.
We wept together, loved together and talked together....
But, more than that, because of my father's clear state of mind, we allowed him to make the decisions concerning his end of life desires.
God took those decisions out of our hands, just like I knew he would.....but with a twist!
Dad was moved to inpatient rehab type unit which is something he was not even a candidate for before. And even though every system in his body was affected we were making plans for after he goes home from the hospital.
He also talked about the Lord, and where he was and where he wanted to be. How merciful of our God to give him the opportunity to make heaven his home.
Now I have peace, peace that didn't exist before. And even when the time comes, I know now I can let him go.
Oh, it will hurt, no doubt about it. But, over-riding the hurt is hope. And I know the time is coming that I will have to let him go, but while I do, I will be holding on to everything he has been to me, holding on to the person his influence has made me, holding on to the strength that we have always found in each other. I will be holding on to the love from my Daddy for his little girl as I am letting go of the hurt of seeing him suffer over and over.
For now, though, I am blessed beyond words, thankful beyond measure, and loved beyond imagination.