It was hard to watch it end, though.
I find myself really clinging to these good days, because the bad ones just seem much more common, and magnified.
I know that God has made each one of my days before they come to be. I know... and remembering this, finding and listing blessings each day, it helps me.
But the bad days can just seem so bad.
And even in the midst of a good day, there is still a nagging sorrow that hangs over my heart.
I can't escape the fact that my dad is gone, and he chose to go.
I listened to the audio recording of the funeral the other day. I was alone in the house, and just sat with my journal and listed things I was thankful for in the midst of all of this... otherwise I may have lost it. Gratitude...
One of the things God brought to mind, was something I think He began bringing to mind shortly after the initial trauma wore off - and it was just a deep hope that Jesus knew him, He really knew him. I honestly don't know how all of this works, if dad is with Jesus right now, and I don't know what you believe about that so I hope no one takes offence when I talk about this.
(Please stay with me as I try to stammer this out.)
I think my dad knew Jesus, but I don't think you could say he walked with Him. I've thought a lot about this, and I will be frank in saying that I don't know what that will mean for eternity for him.
But I do, I do, trust the character of my Jesus. I trust that He is just, and I trust that He is mercy. And as much as it hurts, I trust Him to decide what He needs to decide about my dad's life.
What I am trying to say, though, is how thankful I am for the way God unfolded the seasons of my dad's life on earth, and how He drew him to Himself. I am so thankful for his childhood in the church, and even though he spoke to me about how he grew up experiencing confusion about salvation, I have a deep hope He placed his faith in Christ during that time.
And I am so thankful for the season we spent attending church as a family, and how his faith was solidified and nurtured during our time there.
His doubts, struggles, and confusions notwithstanding, Jesus knew him. He really knew him. And that comforts me, deepens my hope.
This post didn't really turn out the way I thought it would, but there it is.
