(Written on July 13 – Finally got internet in Africa after a week
of trying!)
Today is the second anniversary of my father’s death. Now the reason
that I’m writing this blog is not because I’m
grieving (which if I’m honest I
still am) or just still trying to get past his death but just to share a
little of my thoughts with you, on a day like today.
My dad and I had a rough relationship growing up and it was difficult
to try and find something we could connect on. As most children do, I
did most anything to relationally connect with my dad on any level we
could. Stories were probably the most prominent connection we had. I
loved to listen, and he loved to tell them.
He would tell me of his childhood-growing up on the farm, high
school, sports and my favorite, stories of what he experienced in his
travels. My dad was in the army during the Vietnam War and went to
Korea. He’d tell me of all the crazy and “other-worldly” things he had,
tasted, smelled or seen. He also told about the places he’d visited once
he and my mother were wed: Paris, Jamaica and Hawaii, all amazing,
exotic and fascinating to a young girl.
My dad would sometimes take me on business trips and he was the one
who taught me how to read maps and estimate how long it would take us to
travel from one place to another. And when I was older, the family
would sometimes vacation in Mexico. There he told me about customs and
how key phrases were a great way to connect with the locals and
converting from one currency to another.
On our travels together we would
talk about how we wanted to see the world and experience the crazy
things on this planet. My dad, at an early age instilled into me that
there was definitely another world out there and it was worth exploring.
This later led to awakening a missions-minded worldview in my heart.
As I write this blog I’m sitting in Tanzania, Africa, having had some
of the most rare and amazing experiences on this earth. David and I
have visited over 11 countries, lived in 7 and been on 4 different
continents. We have been cliff diving, swimming with wild crocodiles and
sleeping in hostels, airports and peoples homes from all different
nations and walks of life. We’ve worshipped in 6 different languages and
seen hearts from many different nations become awakened to the love of
Jesus. I could have never imagined in my whole life getting to
experience half of what I’ve seen in just a short 24 years of life. And
just think what I would have missed out on had God not used my dad and
his love of the world to awaken this dream in my heart. I would love to
share some of the stories and experiences I’ve had with you, dad – Maybe
someday in heaven. Thanks dad, for sharing the stories and passing on
the dream. Miss you today.
In
remembrance of Joseph Quintin Bowen
December
8, 1946 -July 13, 2008
