There are days that I have to majorly fight off regret.
What on earth could I regret?
Well…
-not moving home immediately after finding out about my dad’s cancer
-not spending more time with him before he left this earth
-if I had stayed away, would that have given him the strength to keep fighting…
It’s hard to work through those. I wonder why The Lord didn’t burden my heart to move home sooner. I wonder why He didn’t give me more time with my dad. I mean, I was only back in Albuquerque for three weeks before he died…and one of those I was a sponsor at camp.
Two weeks.
It just didn’t seem like very much at all.
There’s something my dad said to me when I first got home back in June. I’ve kinda kept it to myself. And it’s haunted me for so long.
We were eating dinner next door at my grandparents’ house. So I came back to our house to just spend some time with my daddy.
He had anxiously awaited me coming home for 6 months.
But at this moment, he confided in me: “I want you here, I really do. But part of me wishes that you didn’t come home. Because this means that we’re close to the end.”
I think about those words often.
Did my homecoming usher in his death?
Or did my homecoming bring him the comfort he needed to let go of this world and enter into the presence of our King?
I always end up at the second conclusion. But sometimes it takes a little while to make it there.
So I’m constantly on guard against regret. I don’t want it to take up residency in my heart, because that leads to bitterness.
I don’t know why I only got three weeks with my dad before The Lord chose to take him home. But I have to trust in God’s sovereignty in this. I have to.
I don’t understand how my dad sensed that he was nearing the end of his life. Or why he felt he needed to share that with me.
I often go back to the Israelites in the desert. They were just wandering around, following the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night. They knew that if they followed God’s leading, then He would take care of them.
And I think of the truth in that–the hope there for my heart. My sweet Savior didn’t lead me to come home any sooner. He had purpose in keeping me in Raleigh for that extra six months.
God gives good gifts. That quiet moment I had with my dad, where he could share his raw feelings, is a sweet memory that I can have forever. After he said that and we cried together a little…we sat there and talked about my crazy adventure across the country. We talked about the goodness of the Lord.
I still see the goodness of the Lord. I see it in my brokenness and how He is healing me. I see it in how He leads me to live. I see His faithfulness in each sunrise. I see it in how my mom selflessly loves her friends and family.
I will fight this regret–for His glory.
