A few Sunday's ago I had a fundraiser at my church. It was so fun, I had AMAZING help and I was able to raise $2,500! But this blog post is not really about my fundraiser at all, well kinda. Let’s start from the beginning…
That Sunday I was supposed to help in announcements and then be interviewed a bit about my trip and fundraiser-not a big deal. But then I get all wireded out about what I’m going to say about my trip- “like if I say the wrong thing, people won’t support me, they’ll think poorly about my decision, they’ll think…”aaahhhh I was going crazy. And then I decided I should just calm down and pray. It was a quick prayer, something like,
“Hey God, I’m freaking out-can you take care of this for me? Can the words I speak be not of me but of you?” Done.
Prayer = Recipe to instant peace.
I got up, the part for the interview came and went, then went off to finish setting up for the fundraiser. I felt good, I felt like I said what I needed to say, I felt at peace.
Then out of nowhere while I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off someone comes up to me all smiles and says, “Wow Kelly, that is so awesome that you get to go on this trip with your Dad!”
“Huh? …Excuse me?” I’m seriously puzzled.
“You said up there that you’re ready just to be out there around the world serving with your Dad for a year, “ The man says, still all smiles “I just think that’s so great!” Then he walks off.
I was speechless. Now what some of you may not know is that my Dad passed away when I was six. There is NO WAY that I was taking this trip with my Dad. I didn’t quite understand what the gentleman was saying. Then not two minutes later, a friend’s parents come up to me to chat,
“Um , Kelly. Isn’t your Dad dead?” said the husband
And before I can even answer the wife interrupts and says, “Of course he is dear, Kelly was referring to God.”
HOLY CRAP! Did I refer to God, The Maker of Heaven and Earth, the King of Kings, as DAD on stage! I call him Father all the time, even Papa a lot in conversations but never Dad. Maybe, MAYBE every once in awhile when I’m praying at night, but never before in a conversation let alone in front of 500 people. Dad is so personal, so intimate. I hadn’t called someone Dad in over 20 years. How does that just slip out?!
At the time, all I could do was smile and try and move the conversation elsewhere. Now looking back, I know it was just God answering my prayer. I did, after all ask for my words to not be my own but to be His. My little slip up wasn’t actually a slip up at all. It was God’s way of showing me just how far our relationship has come. We’ve surpassed the formalities and politeness and have gotten down to the core of our relationship.
Just a Dad and his girl.
I’m so ready for January to hurry up and get here so that I can start the World Race with my Dad.
