I know it will be uncomfortable for some to read, but it very well may be the most important thing I've ever written. Please let your heart soak in the words. They weren't written lightly, and I can only hope that they will be life changing:
The night that my daddy died, I remember the details of so many conversations I had - the first being with my Aunt Susie. "I don't want to upset you," she said. "You're dad has had a heart attack."...Was there someone to watch the kids?...I needed to come to the hospital immediately.
When my mom was in a car accident years ago, I received a similar call from her. However, this time she didn't preface the call with "he's okay." Instead, she told me I'd find out more details when I got there. That's when I knew it was bad.
The second conversation I had that night was with Dave, quickly telling him what had happened. As as we rushed to change Reid's diaper, strap him in his car seat, and throw some things in a bag for him so I could take him with me, my hands shook. With a three-month-old in tote, I ran out the door while Dave stayed behind with my other two, waiting for my phone call and praying.
My third conversation was the most important though. The whole way to the hospital I prayed desperately that my dad would make it - even if it was just long enough for me to talk to him one last time. I remember the absurdity of catching myself bargaining with God, though I can't remember what I said exactly. I remember trying to talk myself out of the worry, thinking surely this has been such a hard year that God won't let my daddy die too on top of everything else. (Surely he couldn't die on his birthday!) I remember wondering why Aunt Susie didn't give me any more details. What did that mean?
Even then though God's Spirit was working to prepare me as I neared the hospital, and in the end, I finally remember a conviction taking over my heart, compelling me that, no matter what happened, I still needed to praise Him in all circumstances...
The emergency room entry hall was full of familiar faces as family and friends greeted me at the door, yet their tortured expressions were not familiar. My Aunt Julie took Reid and sent me into a room with my mom and grandparents. I looked from person to person as I went, but still no one was saying what I wanted to hear. What had happened?...Was he still alive?...Did anyone know?
The doctor came in the room to talk to Mom about her account of what happened, and I waited as she told her story. Then it came... "We did all we could," he said.
Faces immediately began to constrict in the agony of the dreaded news. Since he was sitting directly across from me, my granddaddy's face is particular etched in my mind as the tears began falling. My attention was also drawn to my mother's quiet, gentle expression of grief. As she nodded her head, you could tell she'd already known in her heart before the verdict was given.
We'd had conversations about faith fairly frequently when I was a teenager, but Dad and I didn't always have the same perspective. It's not that we butted heads necessarily. We'd just had different experiences with church, different hardships in life, different mentors, and different questions about God. After going around several times on the topic, spiritual conversations became few and far between as the years progressed. When it was all said and done, to be honest, I wasn't sure where he stood.
Don't get me wrong. Daddy was a wonderful man, and most who knew him would testify to the fact that he was one of the most giving and caring people they knew - a man with a good sense of humor, hard-working, and honest. The enormous number of guests that came to both the family night and his funeral alone is a testament to how many respected him and how many lives he'd touched. But, the Scriptures are very clear in proclaiming that in the Lord's eyes none of us are good except God alone (Romans 3:10, Mark 10:18, and Luke 18:19). When we compare ourselves to others, we may come up a little better than the person sitting next to us, but when we compare ourselves to a holy, righteous God, we don't even come close. Isaiah 64:4 goes so far as to tell us that "all our righteousness acts are like filthy rags," because in striving by our own merit we still fall way short of perfection.
Romans 3:23 plainly says that "...all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" - you, me, him, all of us. It's not a scale of good vs. bad that God looks at to determine if we will spend eternity with Him. According to Romans 6:23, "the wages of sin is death." Notice that this verse says "sin" singular, makes the reality even clearer - one sin is enough to mar us from perfection, and truth be told, all of us sin continually. We don't love the Lord with all our heart, our soul, and our mind, and that is what sin is. That said, there is ONE way that we still have hope - through Jesus Christ, the Son of God sent to carry our sins to the cross and pay for them there. The problem was that I was unsure if my dad had ever made a true commitment to follow Him.
When the news was still fresh and emotions raw, there was no way I could voice these thoughts to my friends and family surrounding me. The Lord didn't leave me alone with those emotions though. He had allowed the news of my father's situation to reach my pastor, Larry, and his wife, who were with us at the hospital as we worked through this hard time. I knew Dad had been involved in church when he was young and that the man who was now my pastor had been his Sunday school teacher and mentor years before. If anyone would understand, it would be him. They were my lifelines, the only ones I could unburden my thoughts to at that moment, and I asked them to please come down the hall a safe distance so we could talk.
In later years, bad experiences with people had deterred my dad from attending church, and on one occasion he even told me he wasn't sure what he believed. He'd mentioned on various occasions that he'd get himself back into it when he got older, but it never happened. These conversations echoed in my mind as I confessed to the pastor and his wife, Cindy, my biggest fear - he'd waited too long. Cindy asked me if I was aware that as a young man, Daddy had made a profession of faith in Jesus. In turn, I shared what he'd told me about being confused more recently, that it was still eating at me because I wasn't sure where he stood. Not knowing what to say, they tried to comfort me with hugs and their presence, but I left the hospital still feeling distraught.
On the way to my grandmother's that evening, I was upset, angry, frustrated, and confused. I still couldn't believe this was real. I questioned why God didn't give me the opportunity to talk to him about these faith issues one last time. But, in the midst of my storm of emotions, I realized that regardless, I still had a choice to make myself. I could praise God anyway or harbor anger. As Simon Peter answered to Jesus when the Lord asked him and the other disciples if they wanted to leave and go their own way in John 6, my response was: To whom else can I turn but God? After all His faithfulness to me, knowing the comfort that He offers, where else could I run but His arms. I could either accuse Him of being unfair and unloving and be miserable, or I could praise Him despite the circumstances. While it still hurt, while I was in one of the most confused places in my life, while I didn't want to believe everything I'd once believed, I chose to keep believing that God was still good. Over and over in the solitude of my car, I shouted in a hoarse voice, "You are still good, God. You are still good." Truthfully, I may have needed to say it more for my own sake than His; I had to hold on to that truth no matter how things looked at that moment.
I waited at Granny's with family surrounding me still unable to speak what was rolling about in my mind. Finally though, one of my cousins called and, knowing her love for God, I felt comfortable revealing my fears to her. She didn't have the answers, but she told me that she believed eventually God was going to give me a peace about it. Though she didn't know it then, I received those words from her like a promise, and over the next few days God did give me His peace one step at a time.
When my sister arrived at Granny's, she quickly pulled me into a back bedroom, and though I'd never told her what I was feeling, she said, "I know you are worried about Daddy spiritually." Then, revealing a conversation she'd had with mom, Courtney told me that Dad had been reading the devotional booklets my mother had faithfully sat on his bathroom counter....With that small statement, Courtney gave me a glimmer of hope!
A little later, my mom, too confirmed, that in regard to the Daily Bread books she'd laid out for him, Dad told her recently, "You may not think that I'm reading these, but I am." Another family member also mentioned to my mom that Dad said he'd been reading his Bible as well. Oh how I needed to hear that!
At another point in the next few days, Mom recalled times when he'd also told her that he'd been praying, even if she might not know it. Her interpretation of those words were what meant the most to me though; she said, "If he was praying, who was he talking to? There must have been a relationship!"
While I know acts of prayer and reading the Bible don't save us and are merely good works, they did give me a hope that, though he liked to keep his faith as a personal thing rather than talking about it the way I would, maybe he had put his trust in the Lord. In addition to all this new information, a sermon I'd heard when visiting Mom's church several years ago for their Easter service came to mind. The pastor's sermon was on what marks the life of a believer, his emphasis being on the fruits of the Spirit that abound in a Christian's life - not because God forces us to obedience but because it is an outpouring of thanks for all the good and perfect love He has lavished on us. (See Galatians 5:22-23.) My eyes opened at this point to seeing the life of my father in a new way. Many people over the course of the next several days commented repeatedly on what a kind and good man he was, the acts of service he did for them, the way he lovingly sought out ways to help others. It made me think of the times he'd given money or bought items for those who needed it without seeking repayment or recognition. He was always looking ahead for ways to honor his mother and my mom's parents by taking care of them often before they even knew they had need. I think that is what drew people to him. He knew how to love and that's what motivated these actions - not the praise of others. There seemed to be fruit in his life.
A conversation with a wonderful friend of mine who is a woman after God's own heart was also instrumental in helping me to let go of the "what ifs." As I mentioned above, I was worried and somewhat angry because God didn't allow me to have that one last talk with my dad. I thought, "What if it would have made a difference? Why didn't You let me have that opportunity?" But, my friend said something eye opening the morning after everything took place that, when I meditated on it, halted those questions. She reminded me of 2 Peter 3:9, which says that it is not God's will that any should perish. The verse points out that God is "long-suffering toward us" (or "patient") so that we all have a chance to turn to Him. As a result of that truth, I now know that if that last conversation with Daddy would have made a difference for his eternity, God would have given it to me. I have nothing to be angry about - the Lord is good at all times.
As I meditated on other Scriptures that week, they too brought peace. Two in particular came to mind, the first being John 10:28-29 which reads: "And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of my Father's hand." The second was Philippians 1:6: "being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ." Both of these passages encouraged me that if my Dad truly had turned his life over to the Lord as a teen, no one could have removed him from the Father's hand and if the Lord started a good work in his life, He surely would have completed that work even if Dad had questions and hang ups along the way.
Though the conversations I had and Scriptures that came to mind in the course of the days leading up to his funeral had given me more assurance of his faith in the Lord, the sermon by my pastor really left me with a deeper since of closure. As Dad's former Sunday school teacher and one of his close friends throughout their adult lives, Larry knew him on a deeper level than most. Dad told him about spiritual concerns and personal beliefs that he may have been quieter about with others. And, out of all that he said about my father, one of the things Pastor Larry said in his eulogy will stay ingrained in my mind for years to come - "God PURSUED Jeff."
If there was anything that could have blown me away, it was this phrase. God was reminding me of His faithfulness. He drew to mind how He continually put people in Dad's life to lead him back to Himself. Whether it was when he was a teenager with a Sunday School teacher who had a heart for teenagers like himself, a wife who laid out reading material for him after encouraging him to go to church had failed, or daughters who prayed for him and tried to talk about spiritual topics, God put people in his path. There were so many more influential individuals along the way too, many probably that I don't even know, but most importantly, the Holy Spirit was there whispering in his ear. How do I know? Well, because Pastor Larry gave me an example, recounting how moved my dad told him he was the time he came came to hear me preach as a teenager at my old church, and with a chuckle, he reminisced that every time Daddy came to our new church to see one of the kids be dedicated or in a Christmas pageant that he would tell Larry he always felt like he was preaching right at him. That! That was the Spirit pursuing Daddy's heart.
My pastor went on to talk about my father's character, comparing him to "The Good Samaritan," which if anyone knew Daddy, was the perfect analogy. Pastor Larry commented that while Dad wasn't one to go to church, he maintained his faith in a different way. He was always someone who was looking out for ways to help a person who needed it. No one will ever know how many times he loaned folks who were struggling a little extra money, often just giving it to them without looking for anything in return. Other times he was out helping my granddad on the farm, fixing something for my Granny, helping Courtney and I with a problem with our cars, trying to unfreeze a pipe for one of my friends, etc. etc. etc. He was always the one people called, and they knew if he could, my dad would come running. And, not only was he generous, dependable, and someone who made himself available, Daddy was one of those who didn't let his left hand know who his right hand was helping as Matthew 6:3 describes. He didn't look for the praise of others and didn't need people to brag on him. He did it out of love.
Though I will never know with certainty what relationship my dad had with Jesus, God has offered me hope through His word and the other Christians He's surrounded me with. I think in some ways he has allowed me to experience confusion and questioning so to some degree I could understand Daddy's spiritual questions better too. It wasn't that I ever gave up on God; I just had to sort through it all. Maybe that is where he stood too. Was that what he meant when he said he wasn't sure what he believed? Maybe God was even teaching me to be careful not to judge. That He is the One who alone knows the hearts of man.
I know this has been a long post. For some of my readers, I'm sure it has been an uncomfortable one. No one wants to talk about the possibility of someone's soul being lost. However, I don't want the internal suffering I endured over the course of those days that followed Daddy's passing to be in vain. I want to make sure that my family and my friends, those of you who read my blog, know where their hope lies for eternity. I want you to know that God is good, that He is there, that He is real, and that He is pursuing you.
I feel desperate for those of you who have not yet had the experience of walking with my God, feeling His presence, His peace, and His embrace. If you don't already have a relationship with Jesus and KNOW that you'll be with Him in heaven someday, please let this post speak to your heart. Email me, Facebook me, call me! I would love to talk to you about the One who's given me peace through this whole ordeal and hope for tomorrow - the Lover of our souls! And, if you aren't comfortable talking to me, that's fine! I can help you find someone who can work with you to sort through your questions, doubts, fears, etc. about taking that step to follow the Lord.
Don't let embarrassment, shyness, fear, or busyness hinder you. It is the decision of a lifetime - of eternity! Please don't put it off, because even indecisiveness is a decision; if you aren't saying "yes" to His gift, you are responding "no" - there is no in between.
Believing in the mere existence of God is not enough. James 2:19 says, "You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that--and shudder." Following Christ is about having a relationship with Him, and as a result of that relationship "good works" (i.e. spiritual fruit) springs forth. Real faith is a surrender to Jesus as you allow Him to transform who you are through His Word and the convictions He gives you through the Holy Spirit.
Please don't rely on "good works," because as I mentioned above, we can never make it to perfection on our own. John 14:6 says, "Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me." And, Ephesians 2:8-9 tell us, "For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast."
Romans 3:10-12 and 23- As it is written: 'There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands; there is no one who seeks God. All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one....for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God."
Romans 6:23 - "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."
Romans 5:8 - "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this; While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
Romans 10:9-10 and 13 - "If you declare with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved...'Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.'"
Revelation 3:20 [Jesus' offer and promise to you] - "Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me."
As I said before, I know that God will work all things together for good. Maybe there is just one person who needed to read this testimony and feel the Holy Spirit's tug at their heart.
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