My musings, my rambles and I welcome you. |
The holidays are always hard. It’s not really time for the holiday blahs to set in, but I have them. I've been trying to figure out why. We are now officially out of credit card debt (Yea!!!). We are debt free except for some old medical bills. My hubby has been traveling a lot this year, but he will be home for Christmas. My job had an unprecedented slow-down this summer that is now reversing. The Colts are doing okay and the Giants are awesome. So what's the problem? Why am I sliding in a gray fog that hinders my mood and focus? After the last Colts game, I had my answer. I started to reach for the phone to call my dad and remembered. He died last year on Thanksgiving Day. When I try to write about him, the entry makes it sounds like we were really close. We weren't. Sometimes weeks would go by and I would get in my groove of life and forget to call. So he would call me. "Lani Jean, we haven't heard from you in a while. Just calling to make sure you're still alive," he would tell me. (I hate being called by both names. It must be a parent thing) "I'm okay Daddy,” I’d say. "Just working." Then we would have the same awkward conversation trading; family gossip. Sports would be next. I would ask about whatever season's sport he was watching. Football is my personal favorite but my dad liked all three seasons: football, baseball and basketball. Being a Hoosier, college basketball might have been my dad's favorite. My dad was a private man. It was easier to talk sports than most anything else. I learned to talk sports so that I could have a conversation with my dad. That's not to say that my dad was not friendly. He was very friendly. I alway thought he would have made a great politician because he could charm you with nonsense. Yet you felt like you never knew him. At least I didn't. In my entry"No Longer A Pert Christian" , I was flip about my dad being a traditionalist but not a necessarily believer. But I didn't know for sure what he believed. When I was a new Christian, I tried to talk to him about my faith. He answered me with tales about his childhood and being raised in abusive foster homes of religious people of all faiths. When he married my mom, Daddy said he converted to Catholicism so that we could go to church as a family. I never really got a sense that he had made a commitment to Christ or if he thought that being a good person/good father was enough. I went home last October to say goodbye to my Daddy. He was dying of smoking related illnesses and I had just enough time. I tried to make arrangements in the hotels and motels surrounding my parent’s hometown. I could get everything I wanted at a reasonable price except for the weekend. The prices shot up into the stratosphere. I finally asked the receptionist of the third hotel I called, if there was something special going on in town. "Aren't you coming for the Colts/Patriots game?" Oh. God definitely has a sense of humor and love. He gave us something to talk about even on my dad's death bed. I will admit that I am the wimpiest excuse for a Christian that God has ever called. I didn't ask my dad about his faith. I felt the weight of guilt. The "should haves" and "could haves" are a heavy load. Truthfully, though I don't remember the Holy Spirit leading me. Maybe its wishful thinking but I don't. Fortunately, another family member asked him point blank about his faith. My dad said he had made a commitment to Christ but he didn't feel the need to parade it before everyone. He had enough of that growing up and in his own family. After the funeral, I wondered if my dad's commitment was real. I wondered about when he made his decision and how he lived his life. I wondered about things that were not any of my business but God's. Only God can judge the human heart. It made me miserable. One night I was sitting at my computer and I felt I wasn't alone. I turned and saw a vision. My Daddy was standing with Jesus. They were both smiling. I felt peace for the first time in a long while. He truly is the God of all Comfort. I never have to doubt who is waiting for me on the other side. |