Who, at 37 years of age, still calls their father
"Daddy"?
Only someone with a VERY special dad.
The special father who merits the title of "daddy" must be someone who is still
so involved with his adult child that he will spend his vacation times repairing
her house and babysitting her children. That special father must be someone who
is a fountain of wisdom and knows how to make peace and provide encouragement,
as well as gentle guidance. That special father must be someone who still brings
his adult, married daughter flowers. That special father must be someone … Just
like my daddy!
It was 11 years ago that I flew out to California for my younger brother's
wedding. Though most of the details of the trip are very fuzzy in my memory, one
thing stands out clearly: Daddy brought me a bouquet of flowers.
Unfortunately, I kind of took it for granted at the time. After all, it wasn't
uncommon for daddy to bring me flowers. But the reason I remember the incident
so clearly is that this was the last gift he would ever give me…
Daddy spent the next 5 months running 10 miles a day, slowly making his way
across the United States on foot. He and my mother were in Biloxi, Mississippi
when I got the call in the wee hours of the morning. It was my brother and
sister-in-law: "Dad had a heart attack. He's gone."
We made plans in a rush. I would fly to Mississippi to be with my mother. I
would then fly with her to California where my family would meet us. My suitcase
was quickly thrown together, and although my plane wasn't going to leave until
noon, we were at the airport by 9:30 a.m. Why so early? Because I needed
something to keep my mind and my hands occupied, something to hold off the
memories that I wasn't yet ready to deal with.
But now I had two and a half hours on my hands…
My original plans for that day had included going to church, and since my church
at the time was only minutes from the airport, I felt drawn to spend the extra
time with my church family. I remember clearly how they took me in. I remember
their hugs and their tears. I remember going forward for special prayer. I
remember the sacrifice of a church member, who, just before I left for the
airport, slipped a 50$ bill in my hand. And mostly I remember the promises of
these dear people to pray for me and my family.
Then I had to board the plane, and with nothing else to occupy my mind, the
memories began to flow. But somehow, I was now equipped to deal with them.
Although I cried most of the way to Mississippi, the tears were healing. Oh, I
was tempted to shed some of the angry, bitter kind as well, but every time the
hurt would begin to set in, I could literally feel the hands of God's angels
picking me up and carrying me through. I knew that I was riding on the prayers
of my church family.
While in Mississippi I had the opportunity, with my older brother, to run the
last 10 miles of daddy's run, the miles he had run the day before he died. When
we finished, we were just 7 miles from the Mississippi/Alabama border. We knew
daddy well enough to know he would never have wanted to finish his run
mid-state, so we alternately ran his last 7 miles for him, bringing his run to
an official close in Alabama. I ran a total of 14 miles that day, a feat never
before or since accomplished. There's no way I could have done it alone, but
every time I thought about how tired I was, I could again feel those prayers
picking me up and pushing me along.
The next weeks and months were the roughest of my life. Daddy's death
spearheaded a chain of events that involved a major move for my family, changes
in my children's education plans, changes in responsibility. And when I stand
back and look over it all, I realize that I not only came through those months
unscathed, but even stronger than ever. There's only one way this could have
happened: It was the prayers of my church family!
Friends, there is only one way to get through tough times like these: Prayer! If
someone you know is ever in this kind of a situation, your prayers make far more
of an impact than you can ever know, and if you are ever faced with the death of
a "daddy" in your life, whenever you feel the grief begin to overcome you, open
your heart to God! Remember, there is someone out there praying for you, and
their prayers will carry you through!
I still get tears in my eyes whenever I remember that last bouquet of flowers,
the last gift of a loving daddy. But thanks be to God, they aren't tears of
grief or sadness. Far more than that! They are tears of joy and thankfulness!
Joy, because I know my daddy will be waiting for me in Heaven; and thankfulness
to God for carrying me through this hard time, for sending me people who held us
up in prayer, and mostly, for putting a Daddy into my life!
Remember this next time you or someone you know is grieving: Your prayers make
more of a difference than you could possibly know!
Lyn Chaffart
, Mother of two teens, Author and Moderator for The Nugget, a tri-weekly
internet newsletter, and Scriptural Nuggets, a website devoted to Christian
devotionals and inspirational poems,
Www.scripturalnuggets.org , with Answers2Prayer Ministries,
www.Answers2Prayer.org
The Illustrator: This daily newsletter is dedicated to encouraging
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The Nugget: Published three times a week, this newsletter features inspirational devotionals and mini-sermons dedicated to drawing mankind closer to each other and to Christ.