You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. — Jeremiah 29:13 ( NIV)
Christmas is without you again, Daddy. You live another Christmas far away from us in your mind. You don’t realize where you are or what is happening to you. You don’t realize that you had only one year with your new bride. You don’t realize that Peggy, your youngest, has moved to Massachusetts from England. You don’t know the years are passing, and that you have not had a chance to help Peggy fix her new home, or a chance to enjoy the gift of a new marriage. You don’t know these things, but we do. We know what you have lost, and your loss breaks our hearts.
What can never be lost are the memories we hold close. The joy-filled scenes that we will never forget. We don’t know what you remember and what you don’t, but we know who you are. We know the example of commitment and unfailing love you always lived. You always taught that if we sought an answer, we would find it.
Daddy, I have taken that lesson and so many others with me all the days of my life. I never got the math you tried to teach me, but I got something else. You taught that once I have given my word that I’m committed, but also with that commitment must come wisdom to know how to deal with the inevitable struggles and pain of life. You always nourished my independent spirit, but also showed me how to submit it, when required, without losing myself. You taught me God’s love in each moment of pain, and in each moment that called for my surrender.
I sit beside you while you are sleeping. You will not wake up, and no one has been able to keep you awake all day. Your mind, no longer understanding simple directions, has retreated once more. It hurts terribly, and I suddenly yearn for God’s love to hold me. Then I remember your life lesson that if I seek an answer, I will find it. If I seek God in this painful moment, I will find Him. So in the silence, I ask, and I hold your hand. And the peace of God, which passes my mind’s ability to understand, settles in my heart. Your hand stirs just a little within mine, and then is still again. For just a moment, you have known. For just a moment, you have remembered.
© 2017 Lynn Lacher