Select Page

This is the last birthday we all had with Pops. His own pops made it to 62, and his mother and brother to 80. He was sure he wouldn’t make it past the mark of his 8th decade, but he kept going and going seven more years. It was a miracle.

I do believe all our days were ordained for us before one of them came to be, as it says in the Psalms. Those days can become hard as strength gives out. Or! There can be a renewed sense of joy.

My mom always said we need to be thankful in every situation, and God‘s Word says Jesus gives us the peace that transcends understanding. So I guess what I wanted to share on this the 7th memorial year of his passing, is that what kept dad going with joy and gave me peace near the end of his life, was telling stories!

He said over and over again, “I’m ready for Jesus to come for me whenever he’s ready but I told him, I sure would like to stick around for a while because I have more stories to tell!” I think God knew that that would probably be the case with Pops and did some preplanning there.

I guess the point of yet another post about my dad, (I do like to honor both my parents on the their earthly birthdays though) what I wanted to say today, is that if you’re fortunate enough to have your parents around, the happiest time of my life with my dad was listening to him tell those stories at the end of his life. He got such a kick out of it. Most the time I did too, except when he got really anal about the details. We’re both kind of that way though so it worked out.

So, if you have older loved ones you want to keep knowing more about, don’t turn down the moments to grab a story or two. Even if they’re hard stories. There can be healing. Sometimes I’ve struggled with memories that have been hard to face. There are pages of my own story I might prefer to tear out, but I’ve come to realize, those are the very pages God wants to use for his own purposes. He transforms it all.

We may hear that we should let the past go, move on, (can’t I just have a glass of wine and get on with it, please?) Perhaps. But our stories are important, the whole kit and caboodle. Because the thing is? God was in all of it. You were weeping? He was weeping. I know, it’s beyond comprehension. It’s a Mystery.

As my friend Shelly said at lunch yesterday (the lunch she mistakenly arrived 30 minutes early for, was starving and ate, and that I got so entrenched in our deep conversation forgot to eat), “God doesn’t erase the past, he redeems it!”

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This
%d bloggers like this: