A Day of Rememberance...Daddy's Gift

Father's Day will soon be here..a day to remember, to celebrate, and to give thanks for our Dads.

I never knew my biological dad...he and my biological mom were divorced when I was a baby, and I was taken by the state and placed in foster care.  It is a hard life for a child...you are never sure exactly where you will lay your head at night, and you long for love...beg for it, cry for it, and dream of it. When you finally receive it, it is the sweetest gift you will ever know.  Sometimes, you are so afraid it will vanish, you just don't believe it is real...and you keep testing it to the limits. I was a grown woman before I really understood what real love means...and that is what this story is about.

My adoptive Dad...the one who chose me from all other little girls, the one who loved me, nurtured me, and cared for me, has been passed on for many years now.  He was not perfect.  At times, he was hard and unfeeling, and others, he was so kind, it would bring tears to your eyes.  What he was, however, was a human being who did the best he could with what he had...and today, that is a precious memory.

He had huge hands...he was a giant of a man...both in stature, and in deeds...he gave so much to so many in our community, serving the public, and doing all that he could to try and bring industry to our tiny little town.  There are many people who live here who would not have work today, were it not for his tireless efforts. Upon the wall in my living room, there is a "Resolution" from our SC State Senate which honors him for the work he did for this state. I am proud of the things he accomplished. But, I want to tell you about the proudest moment of my life for my Dad...the one moment that changed our family forever.

Dad was a workaholic. He was always on the go to some meeting, or running for some office. He was a hard worker, a hard player, and a hard drinker, too.  I hated that part of what he did. It made him unbearable when he had alcohol in his system, and all of us knew to give him plenty of space during those times. Most of my childhood, I remember him with a drink in his hand, or on the table beside where he sat at night, when he was home.  My Momma had such a hard life with him...and, she sheltered us from his anger, his pain, and his bitterness.  She prayed for him...every day. For 42 years, she prayed. My brother and I would pray, too...but I think Momma was the one who really believed God could work a miracle for my daddy.  I had sort of given up hope, I guess you could say.

One day, after all those years of praying, Dad became very ill. He almost died from a diabetic crisis.  Of course, we were all with him, and we did everything we could do for him. But, this was a battle he had to fight...all we could do was trust God.  Finally, he began to mend.

I don't remember Dad calling on God when he was sick. I am sure he did. Maybe he even promised the Lord he would change, if He spared his life. I don't know the answer to that.  But what I do know is that he DID change.

He spoke to my mom one Saturday afternoon, telling her he wanted to go to church the next day.  Momma just smiled, and told him that would be wonderful. She never questioned him, never said anything to him negative, or asked him why now...I wanted to, but I was afraid to ask anything. 

The next day dawned bright and beautiful. The sun shone in a way that seemed to light this old Earth with something particularly illuminating. Dad got up, ate his breakfast, dressed in a nice suit, and drove to church. Momma was radiant in her Sunday best, simply glowing...she KNEW something special was about to happen.

The service began with the usual hymns and preaching...but something was different about Daddy.  He sat so quietly, not moving, listening so intently, you could almost feel it. The preacher began to talk about God's plan of salvation...His offer for forgiveness for ALL who would receive it...a gift freely given...the pianist began to play the chosen music...Softly and tenderly, Jesus is calling...calling for you and for me...the first stanza finished, and then the second.  Daddy sat there...then something began to happen...slowly, ever so slowly, he rose from our pew, and took a step into aisle...my Momma grabbed my hand...there was a shuffling in many of the pews when he began that walk down to the Preacher.  I saw my Daddy walk down to him, and e seemed to fold in upon himself...this giant of a man,  He knelt down, and he spoke no words...but he began to weep...then, after a moment, another daddy got up, and walked forward...then, another, and another, and another...the music was still playing, but, no one could speak...Momma was crying. I was crying. The whole Church seemed to be weeping...every pew was silent, except for the sounds of weeping...God was moving, and my daddy, my precious daddy, was giving his life to the Lord.

I am crying as I write this..I can't help myself...you see, on that day, my Daddy gave me the greatest of all gifts he had, or would ever give to me. He gave me the chance to spend Eternity with him in Heaven. I give thanks to God for that above all else...

If I could talk to my Dad today, I would say this: "Daddy, I miss you, but I know I am going to see you again.  I know how hard it was for you to humble yourself before man and God, but, the day that you did changed the pattern of my life forever...it was the day I first believed in miracles. Thank you, Dad, for showing me that even a man as strong as you needed Jesus..."

Today is the 42nd celebration of my adoption.  And it is day of thankfulness to God for my Daddy.

Until we meet again, may the Lord bless you GOOD!
simploldgurl