February 27th, 2024

I thought of my grandma's quiet strength, as I sat there, clasping my sister's hand at dad's funeral, when the final blow was given. I had specifically asked that he not do the very thing he was doing. Dad didn't want the usual southern preacher moment when he's more concerned of saving the guests than he is of talking about the deceased. To make matters worse, he'd gotten the story wrong. It didn't happen that way and I should know, I was there. 

My dad's redemption story happened way back in 2018. He was recovering from his second stroke and I was visiting him in the hospital every chance I got. The first one had happened in April, and this one scared us as it had only been seven months later. I was worried about him dying on us and I think he was worried too. I was also worried about him never coming to terms with his faith. I spent countless moments encouraging him and trying to get him to just read something about it over the years. When he and mom divorced, I had watched Fireproof and gotten him the workbook, in hopes that he'd have his "come to Jesus" moment. I was always inviting him to church and he came once to hear me sing, but asking him to have a relationship with Jesus was terrifying. Daddy wasn't afraid to say no. Sometimes, I'd not ask because I was afraid of his recurring rejection. 

Daddy was a good guy and I loved him. I wasn't going to bug him about it, because I still wanted a relationship with him. So, I encouraged and discussed. Encouraged and discussed and I felt I showed him what sacrificial love was, the kind that I felt I understood having a relationship with Christ. It wasn't perfect. Daddy wasn't perfect and neither was I but we had a mutual respect for each other and our beliefs. We went on like that for years and when the second stroke happened, it stopped me in my tracks. 

I felt like time was running out, so one afternoon when I went to visit, I took a Zack Williams CD with me. I was real big into Zack Williams at the time and his "Chainbreaker," hit and daddy had always been a fan of Dolly, and was really excited that she had a new song out, even if it was with a Christian artist. So, we sat in his hospital room and listened to the album and when "There was Jesus," came on, we listened together and tears began to fall down his face. It was like watching all the hurt and dirt falling off in waves of grace. Daddy experienced true grace in the playing of that song in a sterile hospital room and I got to witness my daddy have his come to Jesus moment. Not in a church, not in some prestigious chapel but in downtown Lancaster on a regular Friday night. 

And God wasn't done either. I don't know his name, but I can still see his face, an older gentleman making visits as a chaplain that night. All I know about him was that he has a regular coffee date at Lloyd's in Buford through the work week.

He walked into the room where daddy and I sat, and just struck up a conversation. That conversation became the moment my proud daddy gave his heart to Jesus with me as his witness. It was one of those moments that I've never taken for granted. It was one of those miracle, magic-making, moments that further solidified in my heart that God was real and that he loves us so dearly. It could've been any other time with anybody else, but God gave me that. I hugged daddy and left the hospital thinking, "Wow, what did I just witness?" and how I was so incredibly grateful. I got to my car and phoned my adopted-dad in Christ and I couldn't contain my excitement. I shared the story at church the following Sunday and I was just so in awe. 

And in writing this now, I see that my aim has changed because like the song goes, 

"In the waiting, in the searching, in the healing, in the hurting, Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces, Every minute, every moment, Where I've been or where I'm going, Even when I didn't know it, or couldn't see it, There was Jesus." 

I'm honestly speechless and just thankful for this memory. I turned this song on to write and had no intention of feeling this way right now but God is so good to give us the comfort we need. I've felt so (meh) this afternoon because it's honestly just hard walking in grief. It comes and goes and hits when you least expect it and as my tears have fallen this evening, I've felt this immense sense of peace. 

Things happen. Things that cut deep and wound and pierce and wrong but there's Jesus. I thank God for that. If there was anything worth hanging on to, I think that's it. 

He has never let me down. 🌻