Wondering & Wandering
Sometimes when I make decisions I ask myself a simple question. If my dad were here right now, would his shoulders shake with laughter approving my decision, or would I get his “disclaimer look?” I like to think he laughed approvingly at most. I know he laughed at a lot of things I did- mostly because my life was one big adventure added to his.
It is weird having him absent. I can’t really think of another word to describe it more fully. So strange to miss someone who was here one day and not the next.
While I know he is gone, I cannot reconcile it in my head. I cannot get the reality of “forever” to stick. Maybe because it is not forever?! We will meet again, transformed into something new. I have hope in the faith he taught me about. It’s deeper than the other things we mulled over.
Talking was not our strong point while his body was dying.
We rarely had conversations. I went on the assumption he was tired of the talking because he wanted to be living. It can’t be easy to face your own mortality. I am not sure what he thought. If I had it to do again- and I pray I never do-I will ask. I will move heaven and earth to be with my loved one in the weeks leading to their last breath.
I would encourage you to say all the things in and on your heart because they are important to one of you if God has placed them there.
I wonder (and occasionally worry) about some of these things. Did my dad know- I mean really truly know I loved him? Can he see me now with all these regrets? Does he know I still- almost 3 years later- try to pick up the phone to call him some days? (I switched his contact over when I got my new phone.) Does he see me pause at his picture and tribute flag at work? Does he have regrets- something he needed to say to me? Are there things we didn’t take care of because time was short and people were numerous? Does he know how much we miss him?
I wonder how that conversation with Jesus goes. I wonder if my dad is telling Jesus how to do his job because I am messing this up. I could see him saying, “Um, Lord? Could you just give her a nudge?” I could see him being full of humility at his feet, then giggling at some of the things I do, wanting to rescue me from there as he did from here. Mostly, I picture them as friends.
John and I talked about how much dad wanted to sing in church. I became super emotional because I realized how proud of John he would be if he were here now. If he can see us, I am confident he is bursting at the seams.
We have grown in the Holy Spirit so much. We are serving in our church again. We are leading our lives and making changes based on biblical principle and what God wants for us, at the direction of the Holy Spirit. We are drawing boundaries with people to protect ourselves during this time of learning and wisdom growing. One day I am hoping I will be able to share all I have learned with my children as my dad did with me. One day I hope they realize and respond.
I wonder what he thinks of how I am handling being the parent of adult kids. I don’t know. They are self-sufficient and lawful and basically good human beings. I would like for them to know Jesus better, and it is my prayer they come to him soon. I realize those are the things my dad wanted for us. I have to wait because God’s timing is not our own. He must have been super frustrated with me because I feel like I took forever.
I’ve come to realize my best lesson in this grief journey is to lean on Jesus and let him handle it.
I must allow him to walk me through all this wondering and wandering. His timing has no pattern, and sometimes it feels like there is no rhyme or reason. But he is God, and I am not. He is my rock, and thankfully so.
He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just.
A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he.
XOXO
