Most of you are aware that after a long battle with Parkinson’s Disease, my (Sara’s) dad went home on November 15th and is now worshiping in the presence of his Lord and Savior.
The morning after Dad went home, when Jason was explaining to the girls what had happened, their first reaction was, “I want Grandpa, I want Grandpa!” Within moments, though, Emily asked me, “Grandpa is with Jesus now, right? He’s all better now. I bet he can do a summersault if he wants to; I bet he could even do a backflip if he wants to.” I explained to the girls what we would be doing at the memorial service: Thanking the Lord for giving us grandpa, for all that He has done in and through grandpa; telling stories (the girls love stories), remembering, and celebrating that Grandpa is finally healed and home with Jesus. Jenna heard the word “celebrate” and asked, “Is it gonna be a party?” “Well kind of, yes, I guess that’s right...It’s a party.” She asked me next, “Is there gonna be cake?” So yes, there’s gonna be cake for Grandpa’s party....All week long they looked forward to Grandpa’s celebration, and I’m so thankful for their reminder of proper perspective.
I’m thankful, too, for the long visit we had with my family this summer... time to be with Dad, to read his Bible and daily devotional aloud, to hear him process aloud what was in his mind and heart, to see him move even closer to God’s perspective on his life and the state he was in.
One particular day I visited with him in the hospital, I was praying while I waited for him to wake up, and I really felt like it was my time to release him. It was so precious for us, and for the girls in particular to spend time with grandpa and see him come home from the hospital. I was very aware that when we pulled out of their driveway in August to head to California, that might be the last time we saw Dad.
The memorial service (or as Emily and Jenna refer to it, “Grandpa’s Celebration”), held in Minnesota, was truly a celebration; it was joyful, worshipful, healing, and inspiring. Dad devoted his life to serving the Lord, no matter what the cost, the direction, or the inglorious position.
On the Thursday Dad went home to worship in the presence of his Lord and Savior, I jotted down some thoughts...
I remember growing up, whenever I was asked, “What does your Dad do?” I was never quite sure what to say. It was only a few years ago, that I began to understand...
How could I say it? What does my dad do? He does the work of his Father; He longs for people to walk in healing, reconciliation, restoration, and deliverance. He gets in the middle of awkward, sticky (sometimes stinky) situations, and attempts to usher in the aroma of God’s presence, so they too can grasp the hope of God’s specific redemptive purposes for them.
Nothing got Dad more excited than hearing about what God was doing in the world. We kids were accustomed to gathering in the living room so Dad could read aloud newsletter reports of God’s transforming work presented by Dad with all the drama and excitement of Ripley’s Believe it or Not. We’ve sat through many Transformations videos while my dad wept, and smiled, and wept, and laughed.
Nothing brought Dad to tears faster than seeing God’s redemptive purposes finally accomplished in a person, a couple, a church, a nation except seeing someone knowingly reject those purposes. He touched the heart of God, and found the depths of God’s tenderness toward man.
Dad was drawn to the rejected, the broken, the downtrodden. He never lost hope for any individual, any marriage. He fervently believed God’s purposes truly are good, and whatever else was happening wasn’t what God wanted. His heart ached for those chasing after or caught up in anything less than God’s best for them.
God called Dad to the work of reconcilliation...something he knew a bit about. Last Thanksgiving he still got teary-eyed when he recounted himself at 17, seeing his father for the first time in 10 years. He wept, not because of bitterness, but for sadness at the loss of relationship, at the less-than-God’s best. His heart was truly empathetic and moved toward those in need of reconciliation.
A few weeks ago, we were visiting a tiny Baptist church out on the coast, and as they worshiped, I had to smile at their song selection as I pictured dad, passionately swaying back and forth in his African outfit, singing along at the top of his lungs, “Oh oh oh oh oh oh, Heaven is in my heart.”
Dad’s hope for the next breath, the next day, even his desire for healing was only to see God’s kingdom expand, and to get to be a part of it. Like a little kid who can’t wait to wake up and build the tree fort with his dad, my Dad just wanted to keep working alongside God, to be amazed and thrilled at what God was going to do next. To see Heaven come on Earth. To see Heaven come on Earth. That should be what fuels us.
The past 3 1/2 months have been full of clean up from the January storm, building projects, gardening, weekend youth encounters and adult seminars, a passion week full of teaching, worship, and other activities, along with all the other day-to-day tasks.
the apron strings and now enjoys "running with the gang." She still comes home for a good snuggle most afternoons, and to tell me a good story. She's ever the princess, but while running around with the others, she wears pants quite a bit these days!
to the idea of being the proud owner of a mini-van! So we're on the lookout for our next mode of transportation.
