Another Meeting with My Father

You know, there are some days when the weather really fits the way you feel emotionally. Like when it rains on the day of a funeral. Well, that's the way this day was for me. I woke up so utterly exhausted from the emotion of the week that I didn't think I had strength to face the events that would unfold...but time was running out and we had avoided seeing my father a couple days in a row. We pulled into the parking lot and just sat in park staring at the snow falling and the wind blowing it into little twisters in the air. The clouds were so dark and there was not much sun shining in my heart either. We finally got out of the car and walked into the building. We entered Juan's room and he invited me to sit on his hospital bed. There wasn't much small talk before I pulled out my big blue study Bible. It was so precious to me and was filled with my handwriting from when God's word had first started to become alive to me at age 17. I flipped to the story of the theif on the cross and read the verses. God's word was so powerful in those moments...I could feel his word filling me with peace. After reading them I pointed out how the thief knew that he deserved his punishment. He acknowledged his sin and then put his faith in the one who could save him. And Jesus saved that guy in his last hour. "Juan, it's never too late to turn your life over to him. The only reason I'm here sharing this with you is because of God's work in my life. He is the reason I have become anything. And he wants you to know him and feel his forgiveness by accepting him into your heart. I would love to get to know you more in eternity". Today it was harder to keep the tears from coming. I gave him the Bible and said, "I want you to have this. I want you to know my Savior. Will you read it?" He nodded and took the Bible from my hand and when he saw my handwriting he smiled for the first time since I met him. He didn't say anything about what I said but I knew he would treasure that book and maybe it would lead him to the one who wrote it. We made our way to the cafeteria where we tried to make small talk....he had no history, no loves, no friends, no accomplishments to share. He bragged about gambling and how he lost thousands...he talked about the surgeries leading up to losing his legs to diabetes (caused by drinking).

At one point he said, "Caye could you go get my jacket from my room?" While I was there getting his coat I took a minute. "This person is my dad." It all felt serial. I bent over and touched his pillow and tears came to my eyes. There was globs of hair there and I thought about how his body was giving out. "Hold it together Caye", I said to myself. I opened his top drawer and fumbled through his things....picked up an old watch and held it. It was safer for me to hold that watch and feel close to him than it was in his presence. I took a deep breath and brought his coat to the other room. We soon began saying good bye. This time I bent down to his wheelchair and he wrapped his arm around my waist then he leaned his head into me and started crying...A chill ran up my spine and at the same time I wanted to receive it....I wanted to stay and run all at once. His crackling voice said, "I love you Caye, I missed you so much". I knew I couldn't say I loved him but I told him I missed him too. The words "I love you?"....I needed them so long ago, years ago...but looking back I know that my heavenly Father raised me. Not having a father made me run to the Lord and he truly has filled the Father hole in my heart. He was there, he never raised his hand to slap me, or raged with a bloodcurling temper. God was a gentle Father who held me when I cried and protected me when I was scared and raised me in his love. (Jer.31:3) I thank the Lord that I was Fatherless because now I know who I am and where I belong.