It has been so much harder to lose Dad than I thought it would be.When I was a little girl I obsessed over him dying. I wouldn't let him drive alone. I thought about possible ways he might die constantly. When I got older I told him about it. He was standing by me and leaned his head over on my head and rested it there and said "I know." He always did that. It was one of our little things. When I married Jody I transferred that fear to him. If he got stuck in traffic with his phone on silent I would be a nervous wreck by the time he got home. Certain always that these men were hanging by a thread and my life would end without them. And they were hanging by a thread. Like most people, Jody could tell you a few times he stared death down and got a chance to keep breathing especially with all of his adrenaline hobbies. Dad, on the other hand probably couldn't even tell you how many times his life was spared. He had a dangerous life. Probably sounds silly to city folks but just ask a farmer how many years it takes off of their life keeping city folks alive when they visit a farm. Farms are insanely dangerous, from the heavy machinery, to the ornery horned cattle, to the chainsaws and felling trees. It has taken many lives but it didn't take Dads. He always squeaked by. Never even got a broken bone, he was cautious and always keenly aware. Apparently, raising four kids on the farm that never got an amputation is considered worthy of a safety award from OSHA. ;)
Anyway, one day Jody called and said he had cancer. The world started spinning and I just knew it had finally happened. Jody was dying just like I'd known he would. I knew nothing about cancer. My aunt died of pancreatic cancer and it had been basically unstoppable. And so we went through a very weird time of being unable to grasp what his kind of cancer means to a persons mortality. And during that time, I was able to make peace with God and let go of that fear. And a huge weight lifted off my chest and never came back, even while I watched Dad die a slow horrible painful death. I did not fear his death.
But then the struggle came in a different form. I couldn't picture him laying there in all of that pain and understand why God would let his children die that way after Jesus bore it all on the cross. Now some people will compare cancer to Jesus death but I don't. It seems irreverent. And as I struggled with those images for all of these weeks, I finally flipped it over and asked myself a question I have been avoiding. If Jesus sat down with dad and asked him man to man to die in this way for the kingdom what would his answer be? I know for a fact Dad would say yes. He was a soldier in Gods army. Now don't shoot me and tell me I'm speaking heresy. I am not a theologian, I merely draw my conclusions of Gods ways from the early church. There were times when God spared Paul and Peter from certain death but ultimately they did die as martyrs and God did not send an angel to take peter off that cross or deflect the the sword from Paul. Their deaths meant something. Just ask the miracles drew believers, so did their deaths. So, I have received some priceless letters from incredibly "time generous" people. And do you know what those letters say? Dad's death means something for the kingdom. It means a great deal. And that I can work with.
My second big struggle has been asking myself where was Gods presence in those dark dark days leading up to Dads death? At the beginning, we basked in the glow of the Holy Spirit sustaining us through the prayers of our community. In those last weeks, though the prayers were still strong, our days became bleak and hopeless and seemingly meaningless. And I hate to say it but his death was not peaceful and I did not feel him walking into heaven with a big smile. I wept over his pain ridden earthly body and begged God for a sign of peace and heaven and I got nothing. I asked Dad if he could feel the presence of God and he said "not much". It killed me to know that it was true for both of us. I would sing him hymns and pray over him and reach but I couldn't get a connection. Well, the deaths of the martyrs don't give me much to go on as to what a Christians last breaths are supposed to look like so I will have to turn to Jesus on this one and I find comfort. "Father, father, why have you forsaken me?" Are words I am certain Dad would have uttered in those moments if he had the strength.
I haven't arrived but I'm journaling and blogging A LOT and it's helping. And Jody is coddling me and that helps immensely. And my friend Knelly calls me a lot and that helps more than she will ever know. I have no idea how she is handling homeschooling while parenting 6 kids and moving in sub zero temperatures and babying me through this but she is and frankly I need her so I'm glad she will do basically any and everything God asks of her sweet and amazing heart. Otherwise my days and nights are a continuum of tears with momentary blissful distractions. I am waiting eagerly for a night that I don't lay in bed crying and then get up and read or watch tv until my eyes are bleary and then crash. Good night world. Its time for me to read about how to have a confident heart so I can actually have the courage to live the life God has called me to.
Anyway, one day Jody called and said he had cancer. The world started spinning and I just knew it had finally happened. Jody was dying just like I'd known he would. I knew nothing about cancer. My aunt died of pancreatic cancer and it had been basically unstoppable. And so we went through a very weird time of being unable to grasp what his kind of cancer means to a persons mortality. And during that time, I was able to make peace with God and let go of that fear. And a huge weight lifted off my chest and never came back, even while I watched Dad die a slow horrible painful death. I did not fear his death.
But then the struggle came in a different form. I couldn't picture him laying there in all of that pain and understand why God would let his children die that way after Jesus bore it all on the cross. Now some people will compare cancer to Jesus death but I don't. It seems irreverent. And as I struggled with those images for all of these weeks, I finally flipped it over and asked myself a question I have been avoiding. If Jesus sat down with dad and asked him man to man to die in this way for the kingdom what would his answer be? I know for a fact Dad would say yes. He was a soldier in Gods army. Now don't shoot me and tell me I'm speaking heresy. I am not a theologian, I merely draw my conclusions of Gods ways from the early church. There were times when God spared Paul and Peter from certain death but ultimately they did die as martyrs and God did not send an angel to take peter off that cross or deflect the the sword from Paul. Their deaths meant something. Just ask the miracles drew believers, so did their deaths. So, I have received some priceless letters from incredibly "time generous" people. And do you know what those letters say? Dad's death means something for the kingdom. It means a great deal. And that I can work with.
My second big struggle has been asking myself where was Gods presence in those dark dark days leading up to Dads death? At the beginning, we basked in the glow of the Holy Spirit sustaining us through the prayers of our community. In those last weeks, though the prayers were still strong, our days became bleak and hopeless and seemingly meaningless. And I hate to say it but his death was not peaceful and I did not feel him walking into heaven with a big smile. I wept over his pain ridden earthly body and begged God for a sign of peace and heaven and I got nothing. I asked Dad if he could feel the presence of God and he said "not much". It killed me to know that it was true for both of us. I would sing him hymns and pray over him and reach but I couldn't get a connection. Well, the deaths of the martyrs don't give me much to go on as to what a Christians last breaths are supposed to look like so I will have to turn to Jesus on this one and I find comfort. "Father, father, why have you forsaken me?" Are words I am certain Dad would have uttered in those moments if he had the strength.
I haven't arrived but I'm journaling and blogging A LOT and it's helping. And Jody is coddling me and that helps immensely. And my friend Knelly calls me a lot and that helps more than she will ever know. I have no idea how she is handling homeschooling while parenting 6 kids and moving in sub zero temperatures and babying me through this but she is and frankly I need her so I'm glad she will do basically any and everything God asks of her sweet and amazing heart. Otherwise my days and nights are a continuum of tears with momentary blissful distractions. I am waiting eagerly for a night that I don't lay in bed crying and then get up and read or watch tv until my eyes are bleary and then crash. Good night world. Its time for me to read about how to have a confident heart so I can actually have the courage to live the life God has called me to.
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