Visiting Dad

Today's post is by Christian Fowler

The feel of the grass beneath your feet and wind in your hair as the birds are chirping, rather than the feel of a soft couch and the air conditioning on your skin, while kids are laughing and playing, and grownups are chatting and playing cards; makes for a different kind of “visit.”

 Spending time with my dad has changed a tad over the past year. I still love him and desire his advice, hugs, love, joy, example, and of course to hear his voice, but it’s not quite the same. It will never be what it used to be. When you have to start watching home videos simply to hear his voice, curl up in his bed with his favorite pillow and blanket just to feel like he’s near, when you have to dig through old photos just to see his smile... a real smile, one that when you see it you know that smile was before the pain started; before the family was broken. Running to a grave and desperately hugging a tombstone rather than his body, as though the tears you shed will bring him back isn’t my favorite kind of visit but nobody knows why things happen the way they do.

 People keep telling me that with time it’ll get easier, but no; time hasn’t made anything easier. Time will not bring my father back and make it so that I’m no longer talking to the wind and day dreaming about what his response could and would have been. Time will not wipe my tears, or tell me everything will be okay while wrapping its arms around me. Time can’t fix anything, but Jesus can.

 As my relationship with Christ has grown, even over these past few months, it has been easier to go to his grave and simply smile in remembrance of him rather than feel anger at having to say goodbye so soon. Christ will see you through, even when “time” can’t. Let Christ be your grassy surface and lay your loved ones in Jesus’ arms. Everyone knows they would rather be resting in the arms of Christ than in pain on some old comfy couch.