If you're not aware, my father passed away 9 years ago.
If you're someone that is familiar with grief, in the loss of a loved one, you might be able to identify well with this.
Each year, I remember my Dad (we call him Papa), on three specific days of the year:
His Birthday
On Father's Day
The Anniversary date of his passing
Well, Father's Day was this past Sunday.
It was uneventful for me in the ways that many people in America celebrate the day. I don't have my father here on earth to celebrate with. And so the day goes on as normal.
But as the day went on, I could sense that something in me wanted to get away, away from people…away from the iPhone…away from any busyness or noise.
So at sunset, I decided to take the kayak out on the lake. After a short walk down to the shoreline, I climbed in and went out for a quiet and peaceful row on the lake.
With my music in the ears, no people around, and an entire lake where no soul was to be seen, I rowed, with my Papa.
We rowed together.
He wasn't physically in the kayak with me. But he was there. The memory of him was there.
The hope of his love still thick in my heart was there.
No agenda, no specific tears to cry. Just me and God. Remembering my dad.
I rowed slowly out to the middle of the water, and watched the beautiful sun take it's majestic bow, setting over the plush green trees in the distance. The sky was painted with a few clusters of white coulds and a serene blue blanket of comfort over the water.
I love my Papa. I miss him. He is my hero. And I do wish he was still here. Oh how there are some days where I cry so hard I weep tears to the ground. A man of God, a man we all miss.
So here I am. I find myself 3,000 miles away from my mom, brother, sister and rest of the family. 3,000 miles away from where I spent 28 years of my life in California. And I found myself retreating away to the water. I guess because I familarize myself with the ocean, something I miss so dearly.
I have spent literally thousands of days at the oceans edge, the beaches of California. And after my dad died, this was one of my oasis' away. This is where I could stare off into the mysterious unknown and somehow feel closest to God even in the pain.
So 3,000 miles away from familiarity, I find myself on lake lanier, the closest body of water, and receiving a treat from the Lord. A comfort and peace only He could provide. The blessing of his good comfort.
He is good. And He is comfort.
He is both.
To those in the pain or out of it…a prayer for you:
The oceans will rage, the winds will roar, and my boat suffers huge loss. But this I do call to memory; The faithfulness of the Lord does endure. He will never leave me or forsake me. And in Him I can trust. Beyond my understanding, I know the Lord has me in His hand. He calls me by name. And He cries with me. And He rejoices with me. He is my refuge. He is my peace. He is my comfot. And He, is good.
I hope you enjoy this peace of serenity I was able to find on Father's Day. It is for you too.
To both Papa's in heaven, I love you!
