"He's lucky to even be alive."
The words ring in my ears.
Lucky to still be alive.
A scene is playing out in my mind. The night before all of this happened, Dad had informed me that he would bake me a cake for my post-birthday celebration. So after we came home from church, we hopped into the minivan and made our way over to the nearest supermarket, as it was quickly becoming a Sunday ritual for the both of us. Earlier in the summer, when I had been learning to drive, he and I would often take (unnecessary) trips to the nearest ShopRite so I could practice. But I digresss.
I remember this moment so vividly. It is so deeply embedded into my mind, it plays like a movie. He and I were sitting in the back parking lot of the PathMark that borders our neighborhood. As we had pulled into the lot, one of my favorite songs had come up on the radio.
I remember this moment so vividly. It is so deeply embedded into my mind, it plays like a movie. He and I were sitting in the back parking lot of the PathMark that borders our neighborhood. As we had pulled into the lot, one of my favorite songs had come up on the radio.
"Dad," I said with all seriousness, "we're going to stay in this car til this song is over. Park in the back."
He chortled and I could tell he wasn't all that into it, but he obeyed and pulled into the nearest parking space upon my request. I noted that the car was parked at a rather peculiar angle.
"Nice parking," I joked, knowing that if I had been driving, he would've reprimanded me for such a sloppy job.
He looked at me sheepishly, "I was going to park in the space over, but then I realized there was a lady sitting in the car next to it. I didn't want her to think we were weird."
Typical dad.
As we sat listening to the words of the song, he cast me a sideways glance, "Do you even know all the words?"
"No," I admitted, "just the chorus."
I began reading it out along with the song:
"Lord I need You, Oh I need you. Every hour I need You. My one defense, my righteousness. Oh God, how I need You."
Little did I know how much those words would mean to me. The song echoes in my mind long after the call comes in from Mom with the news. First come the tears of shock, then the tears of immense gratitude. From a medical point of view, he wasn't supposed to still be alive. But yet he was. And only the night before had we all been sitting around the kitchen table, laughing until the tears ran down our cheeks, mouths stuffed with chocolate cake.
That night, I hesitantly posted on Facebook. Hesitant because often times, people who don't care about prayer requests take it as gossip instead of an urgent need. I need not have been hesitant, however, because the response was immediate and overwhelming. A flood of messages poured in, asking about dad's condition and how they could pray or help in any way. I sat, staring at the screen, completely engulfed by tears and mesmerized by it all. I can't even begin to properly explain the gratitude I feel to everyone who left a message saying that they would intercede for our family. There's nothing I can say that hasn't already been said.
You have blessed us in ways that you can't even begin to imagine. My dear friend sent me a text this morning that read: "As your family is surrounded by praying hands that stretch all over the world, may you be reminded that God's love is a million times wider and longer than that!" Thank you all for showing me what God's love is like for my family--gracious, overpowering, humbling, and incomprehensible.
Little did I know how much those words would mean to me. The song echoes in my mind long after the call comes in from Mom with the news. First come the tears of shock, then the tears of immense gratitude. From a medical point of view, he wasn't supposed to still be alive. But yet he was. And only the night before had we all been sitting around the kitchen table, laughing until the tears ran down our cheeks, mouths stuffed with chocolate cake.
That night, I hesitantly posted on Facebook. Hesitant because often times, people who don't care about prayer requests take it as gossip instead of an urgent need. I need not have been hesitant, however, because the response was immediate and overwhelming. A flood of messages poured in, asking about dad's condition and how they could pray or help in any way. I sat, staring at the screen, completely engulfed by tears and mesmerized by it all. I can't even begin to properly explain the gratitude I feel to everyone who left a message saying that they would intercede for our family. There's nothing I can say that hasn't already been said.
You have blessed us in ways that you can't even begin to imagine. My dear friend sent me a text this morning that read: "As your family is surrounded by praying hands that stretch all over the world, may you be reminded that God's love is a million times wider and longer than that!" Thank you all for showing me what God's love is like for my family--gracious, overpowering, humbling, and incomprehensible.
The road to recovery looks promising. There is no fear here, only a deep sense of peace that the God of the universe continues to hold us together. Funny, how only two weeks ago, I posted about all the blessings He'd bestowed upon me and I recall how easy praise came then. Though the waters are rough, the choice still remains to let our praises ring--above the noise, the chaos, the seemingly dark times. A light shines through. I was reminded as I typed this post that I had read John 1:5 that particular Sunday night. It reads, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." In the margins, I had jotted down a quick note, "Hallelujah, the light overcometh." He gives us hope and that is more than enough.
Onward and upward,
A
No comments:
Post a Comment