To hold your hands again, Daddy…
Daddy, I don’t think I will ever be ready to pour out from the depths of my heart what aches when I think of you – which is constant these days. On March 11th while the whole world grappled with the influx of Corona virus across cities and countries, I was rushing through time and airports trying to get to you. I had seen this scene many times in movies, read about it on books, heard about it from people, but never did I ever dream I would experience loss this way!
In just a twinkle of an eye you went from:
“How is your president?
Is your husband taking good care of you?
How are my grand kids?” to SILENCE!
I did not get to you on time; God did. Here is where I have a long pause…you held on for as long as you could, and when you couldn’t wait no more, you went to be with Him. Sometimes, this is surreal and at times it is so real my heart aches and hurts and the weeping doesn’t stop. Your leaving to be with God not only silenced our family; it became part of a great pause that had already begun to silence the world.
Though your silence has been deafening, painful, sometimes soul wrenching; I have been thankful for all the happenings and it is a lot of happenings! Some of them have left me in awe and some I still don’t know what to do, what to say or even how to go about it – your burial included. But then just as a good father leaves inheritance for his children’s children, you left good inheritance – the values instilled in me. So during these times when the impossible seems to be indeed impossible, Matthew 19:26 penetrates my heart and a reassurance that the God of Hope, the one who finally gave you rest will make the impossible, possible.
To get to this possible, there is a period of silence – waiting, that must be endured. I have searched for ways to journey through this silence and all I see is the longing to hold your hands again. Your hands guided, protected, counseled and firmly disciplined. When I think of the journey to the impossibly possible – the day this pain fully realizes its purpose – I try to hear your voice of what you would advise me to do. Physically I may have lost the ability to easily hold your hands but that doesn’t mean the hands of God aren’t stretched out. On those days when I yearn for your hands daddy, I see you placing my hands in that of Christ, smiling, nudging me to hold it tightly and never let go. There is safety, there is security in His arms. Jesus said to come to Him all who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and He will give us rest (Matthew 11:28)
I want to rest in Him, I need Jesus’s arms wrapped around me so that my journeying through this great pause of witnessing the impossible become possible shall all be willed by Him and through Him. People ask, well how are you faring day by day? I get asked this question quite a lot, especially from well-meaning loved ones and those who are aware of the challenges that we as a human race are facing this year.
This is when my Practical Pathways (taking the Word of God into everyday life) come into focus:
In my great pause of joining hands with Christ as I lose my earthly father’s, while Jesus’ hands guide me to journey through the impossible to get to the possible, here’s a process that I would recommend as quoted by St. Francis of Assisi:
1. Do what is necessary now and only within your control – list them.
2. Then do the next best step or thing – list them.
3. Then do the impossible – I call this step clear uncertainty – you see the destination, the purpose is clear but the HOW is uncertain. This is where God asks you to be silent, to be still, to pause and allow Him to do i.e. reveal the how in manageable steps to you. Yes, this is the impossible because my human nature isn’t to be silent, to be still, to pause; there is prayer, patience, positive mindset thinking. If you are able to practice these, then there is spiritual growth at each step towards the impossible becoming possible through Christ Jesus.
Everyday, I take time and allow my hands be joined with Jesus’s hands. It is an intentional and humbling precious time where I choose to fix my eyes of Jesus and not on what my heart in its natural form may be feeling. Each day that passes, one thing becomes clearer – to hold my dad’s hands again is to now live his legacy, and that is truly my honor.
Rest in Peace Daddy.