Well, the dreaded week is upon me. This Saturday it will be one year since my father—my best friend—my daddy, departed from this earth. Almost one year ago, I got a phone call that would forever change my life; my perspectives, my relationships, my faith, my hope, my family, my future—all forever altered by one phone call, one failing heart, one misdiagnosis. Almost a year ago, at 9:50 pm., I heard my mother cry out in despair—a cry of anguish that will forever linger in my ears; she said the words that will forever haunt me and forever take me back to a confusing and desperate time of my life. Almost a year ago, my neighbor told me the most devastating news I have ever heard. Almost a year ago, I saw my brothers cry (which is a rare occurrence). It was the day that will always bring tears to my eyes, and will always break my heart. It was the day that I wept and wept for hours on end, and said, “Oh, my, God,” over and over again—because that was all I could say to God. It was the day that all hope was lost. And for days and weeks and months after, I would struggle continuously.
The day my father died, is the day my faith took a huge blow; it’s the day I stood completely still, as the rest of the world kept spinning and working and functioning. It seemed like everyone should have stopped, but they didn’t. The world went on fine without me, and I was left, cold, clueless, confused, desperate and not able to function in the least bit. I felt so alone, in the darkest place I have ever been—a place of loss, a place of sadness and despair, a place of hopelessness—I thought I could never leave.
I remember being so fearful of what would happen next. Would my brother react with rage and turn away from his family? Would my mother die from a broken and lonely heart? Would we lose the house? Who would fix my car? Who would call me “beautiful”? Who would email me the “word” and “quote of the day”? Who would email me just to tell me they love me? Who would bring me “Black and Whites”? Who would make me breakfast in the morning? And as time marched on, I began to wonder things like, who would walk me down the aisle when I get married? How could I not dance with my daddy at my wedding? We always talked about what song we would dance to. Now, he won’t even be there. And we always talked about “When I have kids…” now my daddy will never be grandpa to my kids. My kids will never even know my dad. I cannot fathom this.
Most likely, my future husband will not have ever known my dad. This is almost unbearable. Two of the most important men in my life will never know each other. So many questions and so much pain resulting from those questions. They haunt me, they torture me. They always leave me broken and hurting. Who is to fill this void in my life?
I am getting my senior pictures taken tomorrow, and I am okay with that, but I have no doubt about how difficult it may be. I can just hear what my dad would have said when he would see the prints: “Kel, these are BEAUTIFUL.” Then, he would hug me, and say, “I have the best daughter a daddy could ever have.” I realize this is slightly corny, but he told me every day that “I am the best daughter a daddy could ever have,” and it always made me smile. He was the only man to ever make me feel so beautiful. I would be standing in the bathroom doing my hair and make-up, and he would walk by and say, “It’s just not fair is it?” and I would say, “What?” and he would say, “All that beauty in one face.” Then, I would chuckle and say, “Nope.” I miss that so much. Every daughter needs to hear her dad say she is beautiful, and he told me almost every day—even if it was in an email. He would tell me how special I am, and how proud he is of me. My dad was my security. How can I live without that? Who will make me feel pretty? Who will make me feel like the most special girl in the world? Who will tell me I am beautiful?
He used to always call me “princess.” Boy, do I miss that. What girl doesn’t want to feel like royalty? When I would stand behind or next to him in a church service and sing, later he would say, “Kel, you girls sounded beautiful during worship, today.” He made me and my brothers the best breakfasts ever. He also made the best pizza ever. I will never taste that delicious food again. I will never stay home on a Saturday night, again, just to help him make his pizza. I will never take Sammy on a walk with him again. I will never hear him speak for Sammy again. I will never hear his voice on the other end of the phone line, saying he would be home soon, or he is in some other state and it is beautiful, and he wishes I was there. I will never get to take that trip to
I wonder about these things every day. Every day they hurt me. Every day my heart hurts for the way things used to be. Every day, my soul longs to be in Heaven with my daddy and with my Lord. Every day, new memories present themselves to me. Songs we loved, songs he loved, songs we considered dancing to at my wedding, movies we saw together, restaurants we ate at on our father/daughter dates, books he read, books he wanted to read, places we went to on vacation, letters he wrote, emails he wrote, home videos, so much…so much reminds me of him every day. I could write for days about all the things that remind me of him, and all the things we did together.
So, where am I now? Almost a year later; a year after losing my dad. Well, every day, I feel hurt by God for a little bit, but every day, I am reminded of God’s greatness and glory and the way He works in ways that we could never even begin to understand. And every day, I come to the same conclusion that even if I feel like whatever God’s purpose of taking my dad away from me so early in our lives, even if that reason or plan isn’t worth it to me, God himself is worth trusting. He is worth me putting my faith in Him. He is worth it enough to keep my hope in Him. Knowing that if I keep my faith and hope in Him, someday I will meet God face-to-face and then be reunited with my earthly father, it is so worth it. Believing that when I leave this earth, I will embrace my father again and we will scream and laugh and cry and hug and be full of pure joy, I choose to remain in Jesus Christ. When I picture the day that I will finally meet my dad again, I see us dancing and holding hands and worshipping God and laughing—forever, with God’s glory shining all around us, warm and bright. This day…will be indescribable.
Of course, now I long for this day with every part of my being, every minute of every day—and I long for it so much, many times it hurts, and I just have to stop and weep for that day, because I want it to be now. However, I know that God has work for me to do on earth, and I want to make Him proud and I want to make my dad proud. I have no doubt that my father heard those words: “Well done, good and faithful servant.” And I want to hear those words, too. So, though it is extremely and indescribably difficult to focus on my day-to-day activities, I want to honor God. I allow myself times to just weep for the day that I long for with my whole being, but I am here to do God’s work, and I have committed my life to serving Him wherever He chooses for me to serve.
None of this means that it is easy. Losing someone so close to you is not an easy burden to bear. I still hurt, every day. I still cry, frequently. I still miss my dad like crazy, and I still get angry at others and at God, but I love God, and I never stay angry at Him, because He always proves His unfailing love for me by the end of the day. And that is why I choose to stay faithful to my Savior.
Like I said, this is certainly not an easy journey, but I am not the only one struggling. So many people are broken and struggling and hurting and grieving. So many people are alone and hopeless. And let me tell you, the worst place to be is not sadness or loneliness, but it is hopelessness. When literally all hope is lost for a person—that is the darkest and scariest place a person can be. And that is why I am giving my life to helping those people. I want to help people who are hurting and grieving and are at their wits end. I want to help those kids without a bright future. I want to hold the hand of the hurting, and stand beside the broken and offer them hope. I want to be there for the people who can’t see any way out, and I want to offer them the hope and love that I have. Because hope and love are the only things that saved me from losing it after my father’s death. I want to help these people, because I have been there. I have been to the bottom and back—and there is hope. I know what it feels like to lose everything you thought was true. I know what it feels like to doubt God. I know what it feels like to feel betrayed by the one you thought loved you the most. And my heart still hurts, but that is okay, because I can tell these people that it may always hurt as long as we are on this earth, but it doesn’t have to kill you. You can find salvation. And you can use your pain to help others find hope. And I realize that I want to dedicate my life to helping people find that hope and salvation.
Some might say this is one of the reasons that God had my father die, and maybe it is, but maybe it isn’t. Maybe I would have realized all of this anyway, I don’t really care. It’s not relevant. What is relevant is the fact that there are people hurting and crying out in despair, just like me, except they don’t know about Jesus Christ and how He saves us and frees us and loves us unconditionally and gives us hope for a new and better life. Or else they do know about Him, but have given up, because they lost touch with God a long time ago. Or they are afraid of Him or they aren’t really sure what He is all about. Or they are jaded by those who call themselves “Christians” but don’t really display Christ’s love. Or they are just too sad and hopeless to even care. I want to find these people and lavish God’s love upon them and offer them exactly what they need.
Anyway, that is where I am now. I am still hurting frequently, and still weeping, and still longing to be in my real “home,” but I am more than willing to fulfill my responsibilities on this earth. I wholeheartedly want to do my part, and I believe right now, God is leading me to help others who have been where I have been—“rock bottom” as some might say.
That is what this past year has taught me. That is my journey so far, I may have left out many details, just so that this isn’t unbearably long, but this is the basis of my journey through the pain, but more importantly it’s the basis of my journey through the unfailing love, mercy, grace, and hope of Jesus Christ. This is why I follow Him. This is why life is worth living without my father, and this is why even though my dad may not be here to do all the things I mentioned earlier and more, I can still manage to put a smile on my face and praise Jesus. And I think this is why God blessed me with a father who told me every day that he loved me and thought I was beautiful—because even though I wish I could still hear those words every day, he said those words enough to last a lifetime.
So what will I do this week, and especially this Saturday? I will make as much time for myself as possible. And I will weep, uncontrollably for my daddy. And I will remember him, and I will just use much needed time to myself to laugh and cry and sing and smile and cry some more. And I will talk to my daddy, and I will wish with all my heart that he was here with me. But it will be good for me, because I don’t get much time to grieve anymore, and I need it. So, I will grieve and shake and sob, but it will be okay. I will be okay.
My conclusion…God is worth any pain that we endure. God is worth me not turning my back on Him. Keeping my faith and hope in Him is definitely worth it. Because if I am still hurting while clinging to God, how much more will I hurt without anyone to hold onto? How much more will I struggle? I had a glimpse of that feeling this past year, and I can guarantee you, I’m not going back to that place. I will always cry for my dad, and I will always…always, miss him more than I thought was possible. I will struggle, and I will stumble, but I will hang onto Jesus—because as I said before, He is so worth it.
What a year. (By the way, I have been listening to “Never Let Go” by the David Crowder Band while writing this whole thing. It’s a beautiful song.) Oh, and this is slightly hard for me to be so personal and share all of this, but I feel like we are supposed to share what God is doing in our lives, and I felt like I needed to share this.
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