I got back in town Saturday night with an empty heart...
Through tears I had just said goodbye to my ailing father as he weakly leaned to the side of his bed at his care center in Colorado. He was propped up by pillows. He's almost empty. He's a tired, old man who is but a shadow of what he once was. Throughout the time of my visit I shaved his face and clipped his fingernails. I wiped his face to clean the sleep from his eyes and the crusty food clinging to the edge of his lips. Out loud I remembered with him the many woodworking tools and their uses as I told him about cleaning his garage at home earlier that morning. I read him daily selections from the Psalms and Proverbs. His hair is long...I would have loved to give him a haircut but he was never upright when I visited. Sad, Happy. Sorrow, Joy. He said "yes" on Friday when I asked him if it felt good for me to scratch his head. Parkinson's stinks. As I stepped out of the glass doors at his care center I wondered...is this the last time I ever see my father?
Later, with a hug for my crying mother at the drop-off and brief words of encouragement, I stepped through the glass doors at the Colorado Springs airport and...
Through tears I had just said goodbye to my ailing father as he weakly leaned to the side of his bed at his care center in Colorado. He was propped up by pillows. He's almost empty. He's a tired, old man who is but a shadow of what he once was. Throughout the time of my visit I shaved his face and clipped his fingernails. I wiped his face to clean the sleep from his eyes and the crusty food clinging to the edge of his lips. Out loud I remembered with him the many woodworking tools and their uses as I told him about cleaning his garage at home earlier that morning. I read him daily selections from the Psalms and Proverbs. His hair is long...I would have loved to give him a haircut but he was never upright when I visited. Sad, Happy. Sorrow, Joy. He said "yes" on Friday when I asked him if it felt good for me to scratch his head. Parkinson's stinks. As I stepped out of the glass doors at his care center I wondered...is this the last time I ever see my father?
Later, with a hug for my crying mother at the drop-off and brief words of encouragement, I stepped through the glass doors at the Colorado Springs airport and...
...finally...
...stepped through the glass doors at the Spokane airport and received hugs and words of encouragement from my beautiful girls and wife. They are so wonderful, so boundlessly filled with life. Thank, you Lord...
Sunday morning I stepped through the glass doors at the church building and received from my Garland community many words of love and encouragement. So many told me that they had been praying for me...others took special time to lift me up and tell me how much they appreciated me. Another one lost her mother this last week and gifted me with her story. The music from the visiting worship band was wonderful, Terry preached a message on hope and reminded me that "when God's grief overlaps the people's grief, God acts."
Why am I discouraged?
Why so sad?
I will put my hope in God!
I will praise him again--
my Savior and my God!
Psalm 42:5
After more good conversations with dear ones from Garland, I stepped through the glass doors at the church building and thought before the Lord...
Thank you, God for this treasure of life.
Thank you that I am not alone.
You know our journey...our ups, our downs.
You take away and you give.
You are the One who makes it fit together.
Because of You, where there is death, there is life.
Bittersweet.
I'll keep walking through the glass doors...
Lookin' Up,
Pastarod