It was the start of another day, and just like most every other day I was a mess. Holding back tears, a pit in my stomach, wondering what I had been thinking taking this job. I got in my car for my short 10 minute drive to the charter school where I taught second grade and hit speed dial. “Dad. Can you pray with me?” He was probably eating his oatmeal, getting ready to walk out the door to farm – but of course he said yes.
That first year of teaching, my Dad prayed with me so many mornings. But it wasn’t the first time. I used to ask him to do the same in high school, would call him from college when I was feeling unsettled, on long drives when I wanted to work through something I was learning. He was a calming presence, even over the phone. He had a way of giving me perspective that no one else really could.
We had a special relationship. I still remember the day we told him and my mom that they were going to be grandparents. He looked at that little Chicago Blackhawks jersey in awe and excitement and said “REALLY?!” Our little one was so loved and prayed for by him.
When he got sick, one of the hardest things I ever heard him say, through tears, was “I just want to get to watch Logan grow up.” That wrecked me. Something inside me knew that he wouldn’t, but I told him that of course he would.
Fast forward three years and we are getting ready to have another baby. And I can’t help but aching to ask my Dad questions about parenting, to call him when I’m in need of calm, to just get to see him be “papa” to our little girl.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in this grief journey is that emotions can coexist. Sorrow and excitement don’t have to be mutually exclusive. I carry both in my heart every day.
Letting go of the past, not trying to wish things into “being the way they used to be” has been a difficult lesson as well. I’m finding though, that a big part of honoring my father is trusting my heavenly Father. I’m learning to truly believe that each of our days was written in His book before one of them came to be. (Ps 139:16) And to really trust that what is behind is never better than what He has ahead of us, as hard as that is to comprehend. That He can and will do immeasurably more than we could ever ask or imagine. (Eph. 3:20)
As much as I want to hug my Dad, introduce him to his granddaughter, have him in our lives like we thought he would be – I really don’t want to take him back from Heaven. He’s healed, he’s whole, he probably isn’t bald anymore (I don’t know how that theology lines up…ha).
As much as I want my kids to know their Papa, I know without a shadow of a doubt that God has used this whole process to refine me and make me better able to share the gospel with my children. It has opened a doorway to talk about heaven and eternity with Logan that wouldn’t have been there before. It’s gifted me with an eternal perspective that I just didn’t have before. And that is what he would have wanted – for his grandkids to know the truth, grace, and great love of God.
So, as we welcome this new little lady into our home and hearts I commit to loving her in the legacy-way her Papa would want. To teaching her about heaven and how everyone who believes in the name of Jesus gets to live there forever. To making sure she knows she is loved not only by us, but by the Creator of the world.
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Susan Beckwith says
Anna, that is so beautiful and so accurate. (Won’t it be glorious to see what our whole, healthy, the-way-God intended, bodies will be like hair or not!). Blessings on you walking forward with this new little promise of God. Your Dad is so proud.