Dad's Final Affairs

I wrote about the wisdom of Dad's stewardship to leave appropriate end-of-life documents and to give away much of what he had, to whomever he wanted to bless, while he lived. I forgot to follow-up about how that process ended. Fortunately, my sister, brother, and I handled Dad's final affairs as unified as his end-of-life care. I signed the final papers in February 2020 to transfer the last property deed to us and close the case with the probate judge. It is a time-consuming process regardless of your loved one's decisions. In Dad's case, he was a good steward; unfortunately, it just takes time and patience to finish the process.

I originally intended to hire Dad's attorney to handle the legal documents, but instead retained his new partner, a younger Christian that I got to know through my involvement with a local Christian summer camp when he was a teenager. He and his assistant were attentive and handled the case well. The probate case stretched out when we realized that a deed from 15 years ago was not properly drafted, meaning Dad passed away with more property in his name than any of us, including him, realized. We decided to sell the property, and given the seller-financing deal we offered the buyer, it added another 12 months to the process.

So, all in all, we fared well, and Dad was honored. In fact, we agreed that it was satisfying to care for Dad in life and mediate for him when he no longer could, then complete his final wishes after he departed. Dad's stewardship example can benefit all of us. Give away whatever and as much as you want while you live, then be sure to leave an updated, valid will to cover the rest. It is a gift of peace and will make an easier transition for those who live on down here, especially for those who know and love the Lord.

9/17/2020

My Thorn In The Flesh

In 2018, I wrote on subjects related to my Dad's journey through dementia, and eventual deliverance from it. I reached the end of that privilege and put down my pen, or my computer, in this case. I left the blog online for people to search and find consolation in their days of need and grief; the persistent ongoing readership tells me that some people find the content useful, and I am grateful that these words matter to others in caregivers' crisis. I also sensed that on some future day another idea would come to mind that would be a good topic to address and attach to the articles saved here. Well, I was right, and it's time to write again.

I now realize that my 4 years with Dad will be my thorn in the flesh for the rest of my life in this world. Let me explain. From Scripture, Paul wrote about his thorn (II Cor 12), demonically-motivated false teachers had infiltrated the church, gained favor, and were relentlessly attacking him. He understood that God was in ultimate control of his circumstances, and that in spite of the motives of his adversaries, God intended good to come from it, to keep Paul humbled and dependent on the Lord.

I feel the same about my years with Dad. People have often complimented me for the decision I made to pause life, and move in with Dad to become his primary caregiver. Sometimes those expressions of admiration come with confessions of regret about choices they made regarding the care of their loved ones. Guilt is a relentless enemy; it is no "respecter of persons". I have trouble communicating this truth to others, but guilt does not care about the choices we make, nor our intentions, motives, mistakes, our best moments, or our worst moments. Guilt will ruthlessly exploit anything and everything; whether you made the best choices available to you, or whether you settled for something you now regard as less than your best. You regret it; you wish you could go back; you would give anything for a do-over.

I made the best choices available to me, at my level of spiritual maturity and walk with the Lord, but do you think guilt cares about any of that? No, it does not. Guilt humbles me from time to time to re-live certain moments, to wish I had made different choices, or handled some events with more patience, respect, and love for my Dad. So what guilt intends for my ruin, God intends for good. To humble me, to keep me there, to remind me that I have not arrived yet, and to avoid the potential puffery from those who admire, perhaps overly, the "sacrifices" I made for Dad. Be clear about this: by God's grace, I'm not broken because of this, nor am I paralyzed or controlled by it, but it will be the thorn in my flesh for the rest of my life. So like Paul, "lest I be exalted from the abundance of the revelations," or in my case, the praise of "doing right and good," I thank the Lord that He cares to keep my eyes fixed on Him and my heart trusting in Him.

Knowing that we cannot undo the past, we can certainly learn from it, absolutely repent of it, make restitution when possible, but be clear about this: guilt doesn't care about your choices; it will force you to re-litigate all of them in your mind. So we must look to the Lord, listen to Him, keep following Him when it hurts and doesn't make sense, accept the hurt or the thorn as a gift from God, and thank Him for the lessons He still lovingly teaches us.

7/21/2020

Dad's 88th Birthday

Today is Dad's 88th birthday. We are having a family get-together tonight for other reasons, just a coincidence, but I do think about him and how sweet it would be to have his smiling face sitting at the restaurant table with all of us. I miss my little boy.

We all still miss him very much, but today is a good day. The Lord is good. He made this day. His goodness fills this day, and His glory and good works are circling the world.....today. Jesus is Lord, and on the throne of heaven. He controls the visible and invisible universe. Why do I say "it is well with my soul"? Because I know who He is and where He is.

One Year Later: The Lord's Sufficiency

Today is the one year anniversary of Dad's departure and homegoing. I miss him. I always will. He was my Dad. He became my little boy along the way. He changed. I changed. And that's a good thing!

I've written many aspects of our journey with the Lord, His care, His Word, His promises, but I have to say that His sufficient, satisfying grace cannot be stressed enough and is the reason Dad and we, his children, finished this journey well. We are mortal creatures of the moment. He is the eternal, uncreated, unchanging, "I AM"! He is the One who does all things well! We don't know the details of what lies ahead next year, next month, next week, or tomorrow. We struggled to navigate our way through each moment's needs. We had no idea how long this season with Dad would be. Through it all, we succeeded at honoring our Dad, and he succeeded at receiving our love and care, because God graciously walked us through the valley of the shadow of death. By the way, did you notice the word "shadow"? It's not death for a believer. It's just a passing shadow. It cannot claim us eternally. The Lord knows our days, our seasons. He had our family situation well in His hands. He held us firmly. His plan was perfect. He did not fear. He did not waver. He did not sigh or wince at our doubts. He gave us the victory.

Amazing grace indeed!

Happy New Year 2019

It's another new year. Hard to believe. Our lives really are a vapor, as James wrote. We're here for a little while, and...<poof>....we're gone. Today is also the one year anniversary of Dad beginning the process of going home. On this day one year ago, it was a tough day because Dad was getting ready to leave. He was difficult to handle that day. He slept alot. He became immobile at the end of the day. It was confusing to me. It was different from every day I experienced with him for 4 years. I was concerned and nervous, but when I woke up the next morning, the Lord had calmed me. I knew what was happening. It was all so clear. Dad was tired. He was preparing to leave us. The Lord was preparing to receive him. The next seven days were an amazing blessing from God, and then Dad finished his course. It's already been one year. Doesn't feel that way. More like a month or two. The memories are so vivid, so fresh. But all's well. How? Because Jesus is Lord! He's doing just fine!

Happy New Year!

As Caregivers, We Must Pursue The Best Interests And Clear Wishes Of Our Loved Ones

As we approach the one year anniversary of Dad's homegoing, I was recently going through a folder of his paperwork and came upon two documents, his healthcare directive and the Physician's Order For Life-Sustaining Treatment (POLST), which was prepared and signed by Dad's hospice agency and me about 2 weeks before his passing. If you have ever been in a hospital, nursing home, or hospice facility visiting a loved one in a critical condition, you may have seen one of these posted on the wall of the room, almost like an official notice, which of course, it is.

All along the way, service as a caregiver requires us to suppress many of our needs, wants, and feelings to put the interests and wishes of our loved ones above our own. They asked us, trusted us, and may have specifically named us in legal documents. They know they have asked us to do difficult things because they have already been there themselves, watching parents, a spouse, brothers or sisters slip away from this life. They ask us to do things that they also had to do, so they understand the pain and determination it takes.

I sat down with Dad's hospice staff, and we reviewed his final and legal healthcare directive, signed almost 4 years prior, when he was able to state his end-of-life wishes. Dad declared his preference to allow his natural, inevitable death to occur if he could no longer tolerate or take food and liquids. He asked for no unusual life-sustaining measures, only pain medications if needed for comfort. It was a relief to have that document. In fact, my sister, brother, and I re-read it during the final week of Dad's life to be sure that we were in agreement that Dad's wishes were being honored. But still, that document had to be transcribed into the POLST that healthcare professionals use in their practice. As Dad's designated healthcare agent, it was gut-wrenching to fill out that form and mark the spaces that read "Allow Natural Death - Do Not Attempt Resuscitation" "Comfort Measures Only" "No artificial nutrition by tube" "No IV fluids", and then sign my name to it because Dad couldn't speak for himself anymore. It hurts to do that, to fight away the feelings that we were giving up, giving in, or not doing everything we could to help him. But that's what he wanted, and it was important enough for him to write it down so that we would know and not doubt his intent.

It doesn't make the feelings go away. It doesn't mean that it's easy to do what our loved one has asked us to do, but there is peace of mind down the road in having pursued the best interests and clear wishes of the person we love. So if you haven't completed a healthcare directive with your end-of-life wishes clearly outlined, please do so immediately, because one day your loved one, husband, wife, child, grandchild, or other caregiver will thank you for the long-lasting peace of mind that you gave to them. It is a gift, and I thank Dad for it!

Merry Christmas 2018

Christmas 2018 is different without Dad, but not dreadful. We will miss having him at the dinner table. We will miss his smile and kid-like nature opening a gift. But the joy of Christmas is the Lord Himself, not family, friends, feasts, gifts, lights, decorations, or fantasies. One day all of those things will be taken away, by personal choice or by divine providence. Then what do we have left? Well, if you know and love the Lord, you still have Him, all of Him, Christmas, and all of Christmas. His gift of eternal life can never be taken from you. Praise His holy name!

Merry Christmas!

Precious Memories

I recently had lunch with a long-time friend whose father passed away last Christmas Eve. At the same time, my Dad's health was rapidly declining and went home about 2 weeks later. We were talking about how vivid our memories are of those final days. Our minds allow us to travel faster than the speed of light and even travel through time. I remember with video-like recall last Christmas Eve, leaving the Chapel early with Dad and going to the ER; an enjoyable Christmas Day with food, gifts, and family; welcoming hospice into the home December 27th and Dad's adjustments to their care; New Year's Day when Dad's homegoing began with alot of sleepy time and the difficulty I had bedding him down that night; January 2nd when Dad slept all day and never woke; January 3rd, the snow day when Dad sat up several hours, drank, ate a little, received family; January 4th when Dad sat up again but was very weak and we laid him down to bed for the final time; January 5th, 6th, 7th days in bed, resting, family and friends visiting, bringing food; and of course, January 8th homegoing, the three of us being at his side when he left, praying with him, laying hands on him, seeing his eye open to look at us and say his goodbye, the tears, the relief, the thankfulness, even feeling the lingering warmth of his bed after the funeral director removed his body. Precious memories indeed!

Most activities and most people-to-people interactions on most days of our lives are easily forgotten, but the life-changing events, places, and people remain with us. God allows us to retain those memories for our blessing and our growth and our faith, so that we can look back and recall how He worked and how great He is. The result? His Spirit renews our spirits, then we re-commit ourselves to His glory and kingdom purpose.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Settling Dad's Estate & Final Affairs

Dad was wise in his end-of-life stewardship. He performed some estate planning about 11 years before his death. He gave away some money and property to those he wanted to have it while he lived. He left a clear, simple, updated will to handle the remainder after he passed away. My sister, brother, and I have a great relationship and have been in complete agreement with handling his house, other property, and vehicles, but still I admit how frustrating and slow all of this is to finish. And again, Dad was wise and a good steward. I cannot imagine the frustration of families who deal with an estate where there is no will, no planning, or little understanding of what assets exist and where they are located.

I can definitely testify and recommend that everyone would benefit from being like Dad in this regard. (1) Do some estate planning while you can. (2) Give away everything you want and can give away while you can and think about the tax implications if it matters. (3) Leave a clear, simple will that is updated after every major life event. Dad was particularly good about that, because he signed several wills during the last 25 years of his life, always preparing a new one after a major life event. He made it as easy as possible for his children to deal with his assets, and I am thankful that Dad was a good steward.

The Schemes Of The Enemy

Christians often underestimate God's ancient foe, Satan. We forget that he is real, the prince of this world, and that his methods are to kill, steal, and destroy. His weapons are fear, worry, doubt, regret, irrational guilt, perfectionism, envy, jealousy, and many more. We are to resist him by submitting ourselves to the power and will of the Lord.

But we also overestimate him too. We say or think "the devil made me do it", the devil did this, the devil did that. While forgetting that many hardships and difficult circumstances, even tragedies and losses, are purposefully designed by our almighty God to grow us in His grace, to purify our hearts, to refine our faith, and so much more. We can mistakenly attribute a divine plan of the Lord to that scheming low-life devil. Do not overestimate him. Believers have the mind of Christ. We are already seated in heavenly places. We are God's inheritance. We have been given God's best gifts, His Son and His Spirit. We have been given everything that pertains to life and godliness. We have been given every defensive shield to repel the enemy's advances, and we have been given the one heaven-ordained offensive weapon, a sharp two-edged sword, the Word of God. It is not a club to wildly, or carelessly bludgeon adversaries. It is a precise instrument to prick our consciences and expose our hearts.

Learn to wield it rightly. Academic credentials are not required to rightly divide it and apply it. What is required? Humble, persistent surrender and submission to its judgments!

The Holidays Have Arrived

And this will be our first without Dad. Yes, there will be some sadness, wistful remembrances of holidays past, mingled with some laughs and many fond memories, but we need not give in to despair or hopeless grief. That's the blessing of being "in the Lord" now.

Last year's holidays are firmly etched in my mind because as we approached them I sensed that 2017 would be our last ones shared with Dad in this world. He was slowly declining in almost every functional way. He did well last Thanksgiving and enjoyed a big meal that day, but I was frequently linking arm-in-arm to steady him whenever we went out in public.

December's decline was obvious, and I began to suggest to people that if they wanted to visit Dad while he was alert and able to recognize them that now was the time. His long dormant hernia was becoming a problem, which led to his early departure from the Chapel on Christmas Eve. He was never able to attend again. Dad enjoyed Christmas Day, ate well, received family, and opened gifts. The week leading up to the New Year was uneventful, and Dad adjusted well to his new hospice nurse. Then, New Year's Day 2018 came, and Dad began the homegoing process. He got up, and we did all of our usual routines, except this day was different from all others as Dad slept alot, and thus began the final week which I have previously described.

I was astonished at how quickly the Lord decided to take him home, and I'm still amazed at the speed of it all.  Primarily because, when Dad passed, there was nothing significantly wrong with his physical body. He was not ill. He was just tired. He went to sleep. And he slept his way home.

The holidays will be good, because the Lord is good. It's important to be reminded that food, gifts, events, and people do not make the holidays special. The Lord does! Believers in and followers of Christ never say a final goodbye. Our separation from Dad and other believing loved ones is temporary and brief. Life is a vapor, which reminds me that I'm on deck. So, when You are ready, Lord, bring it on!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Dad's Last Four Years

For much of Dad's final four years, I was his roommate and primary caregiver. Recently, I was talking with a friend and we were reminiscing about our late parents, and as he was speaking, it dawned on me that Dad did not spend one night in a hospital or long-term care facility during those years. Not even one night! In fact, his last overnight stay in a hospital was for a minor heart condition about 15-17 years ago.

Dad had several doctors, primary care (basic care and routine bloodwork), urologist (treatment for a moving kidney stone), neurologist (testing and medications), podiatrist (toe nail trimming), even a surgeon's consultation (for an opinion on a troublesome hernia). He used the local hospital for some tests, x-rays, and a renal stone crush procedure, but he never required hospitalization. Think about how remarkable that is for someone in his mid-80s and facing the natural end of his life.

What can I conclude? Dad was very blessed! And my sister, brother, and I were too!

Tropical Storms & Dad

We're getting ready for another tropical system (Hurricane Michael) to sweep across south GA. I bought some water and a few supplies yesterday to prepare. But I also had a flashback to September of last year. A tropical system came through the area with 60+ mph winds and heavy rain, which downed trees and caused extensive area-wide power outages.

Dad had become a bit of a roamer, but on that day, I didn't have to worry about him slipping away. The wind and rain kept him confined, but we eventually lost power during the worst of it. As soon as it let up, we drove the van around town to give us a break from being house-bound. That's when I realized that we would be without power for awhile, after seeing the damage the storm had caused. It was only  two days and two nights, not long at all compared to other storm events, but Dad and I really depended on lights and TV. For the last year of his life, Dad didn't care much for TV or sports or the Braves. He couldn't hear it anymore, but between magazines and TV, he could be content and mentally occupied by it in the evenings before bedtime. So for two nights, we sat side by side, with no TV, no AC, no internet for me, and with only flashlights, not enough light to read by. So what did we do? We rediscovered the art of conversation. Amazing huh? Go figure!

Night time was never easy. I often had trouble sleeping, listening for Dad, in case he needed me, but those nights were most difficult because of the darkness of the house. We made it fine. When the power came on two days later, I was grateful, and he was too. He knew things were returning to normal, and I was relieved.

Hurricane Michael, I guess I'm ready to face you too. And I would be OK if Dad were here to keep me company, but honestly, I'm happier that he's home.

Dad's Birthday

Today would have been Dad's 87th birthday. It seems strange not being able to tell him "happy birthday", or sing it to him. No family dinner is planned tonight. We don't get to see him smile while opening birthday cards or gifts. That's what makes today strange, but not sad. Why?

He's no longer trapped by illness, and because of God's grace, he's never been happier or more alive. It is well! He is well!

Feelings Don't Care About Facts

If you ever go down the blessed path of becoming a primary or significant caregiver for a loved one, be ready for harsh, even accusatory, feelings that ebb and flow after that season of life ends. By that I mean, no matter how much you love, you serve, or you sacrifice, unsteady feelings will rise up at various times to accuse you of giving up on your loved one, of doing nothing to help him at the end, of just letting go and letting him go, of being selfish, etc. They are feelings. They are not rooted in facts. But they are powerful. Feelings don't care about facts, so it's an important part of the healing and grieving process to recognize it and be honest about it.

For me, these unnerving feelings started the week after Dad passed away. They come and go, are mostly infrequent, but something unexpectedly triggered them again recently. By God's grace, I'm not paralyzed by them. I'm not shocked by them. And I assume they may rise up to taunt me for months, even years, to come.

And yet, Dad was a blessing. My time with him was precious and rewarding. Our family was blessed. There are thousands of little events, episodes, and decisions that I could obsessively replay in my mind, nitpick, and make different choices. I refuse to do that. I have to refuse that. Of the big picture and the choices we made to care for Dad at home all the way to the end, I wouldn't change a thing!

Dad: My Little Boy :)

Dad's dementia had the effect of producing an innocence, a greater willingness to trust, and a dependence on us to care for him and guide his days. In practical terms, he became my boy, just like a son, during this journey. As a dependent child, he could be peevish and want his way like any kid does. He could demand, pout, walk-out, even give the silent treatment. While individual moments were frustrating, and honestly, a few of them were tense, I look back now and think without a doubt, that it was all so cute and sweet. Fortunately, Dad was mild-mannered for the most part in his wants and whines.

Perspective always helps when we get to pause, look back, think things through more deliberately, and filter issues, events, and people through a divine perspective, God's Word and God's Kingdom.

The Future Was Off-Limits

Huh, you ask? Yes, it's true. As a caregiver immersed in my ministry to Dad and responsibility for his well-being, I could not think about the future. I was never allowed to go there. I could not plan for it. I could not think much about relationships; indeed I had no choice but to allow many friendships to go dormant. I met a godly woman who could have been "the one", but that was not to be, nor could it be, because it was inconsistent with the season of life that the Lord appointed for me. I could not think about future ministry, pastoral or missionary opportunities. Goal-setting was impossible. Vision-casting was impossible. I can't help but laugh at the folly of all the books that have been written on leadership, vision, goals, etc blah etc. Those may be interesting when you're 26 and free to let your mind roam, but not when you're middle-aged and struggling every day to care for a loved one.

"I die every day" (I Cor 15:31): Dying to self is never portrayed in Scripture as optional for a Christ-follower. It is the reality of the new birth; no one can come to Christ unless he is willing to see his old life crucified with Christ and begin to live new in obedience to Him.

"Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." (Phil 3:13-14)  Could I plan for the future? I often thought, "I have no earthly future." It didn't exist for me. There was no future, just today. Could I agonize over regrets? about yesterday? No! It was over and done. I couldn't give place to that kind of paralyzing remorse. Today was at hand. Could I worry about tomorrow? What? I saw no tomorrows. The present day was completely full and enough on its own.

Could I pastor a church? Not possible. Could I plan a mission opportunity? Not possible. Could I lead a discipleship group or ministry? Not possible. Even the everyday things of this world like personal healthcare, financial planning, reading books, whatever......nope nope nope and nope! I learned to live one day at a time. That's all I could do. That's all that was allowed. What a great lesson from the Lord! And I'm still living that way now. Some may think I can't move on. Some may think I'm depressed and stuck. Some may think I don't know what to do now that Dad moved on up and went home. Some may think I'm not considering the future (oh to the contrary, I think much, often, and highly about our Lord's glorious return).  Some may think I'm not a planner or a vision-caster. Whatever!

Today is sufficient. I live for the Lord this day. I must seize whatever He appoints for me today. I must trust Him to show me what's next. I must be faithful to the last thing He revealed to me in the meanwhile. So, yall can go ahead with your leadership goals, vision-splaining, dreaming dreams, yada yada yada, but I've come too far to turn back now. I hope you know I'm not belittling anyone else of how the Lord may be leading you in your journey, but don't impose that on me. None of that stuff matters to me now.

As far as I'm concerned, the future is still off-limits. Oh, I know what it will be, Rev 21-22 makes that clear, but I refuse to miss today. I'm not giving up on what the Lord has for me today. I must die to myself today, live joyfully in Christ today, and if He allows this body to rise from sleepy slumber tomorrow, then I will gladly repeat it all for His glory. Or even better, if He says "come up here, son", you betcha Lord, I'm ready and eager to meet you.

Maranatha!

Without Experiencing The Caregiver Role, It's Hard To Understand The Struggle

I didn't understand either. I have known individuals who are/were caregivers; some serving longer than I did. I have pastored fellow church members who were caregivers. I admired them, prayed for the Lord to help those families, but I couldn't truly understand or empathize. Until, that is, the Lord arranged a season of it for me.

The lack of understanding was most notable to me through the multiple requests I received to pastor local community churches while I was fully immersed in my pastoral/caregiving ministry to Dad. Some of the lack of understanding is raw spiritual immaturity. Dad was not just a full-time job, although he was a round-the-clock responsibility. The Lord gave Dad to me for a season of ministry, a season that lasted 4 years. We were essentially a church of three, the Lord, Dad, and me. I was more than a caregiver, responsible for Dad's physical and medical needs. I embraced a pastoral responsibility for him, to shepherd him in the ways of the Lord as best I could given the disruptions caused by his illness.

My hands were full. My heart was heavy. My mind was often racing with all kinds of concerns, but I absolutely could not think too much about the future, nor could I accommodate many distractions from the "main thing" the Lord had appointed for me. That's why the pastoral requests became frustrating. Some of those asking me about my availability didn't or couldn't understand my situation no matter how I explained it. One even felt emboldened to question my ministry choice (to pastor a flock of 2). At a prime age for ministry and still possessing physical vitality, some church folks have different ideas about the best course my life should take at this point.

Those asking me to consider serving as their pastor didn't know me. They know "me" from 15-20 years ago, or something about my ministry reputation from back then. Except, I'm not that guy.....at all. I've grown in grace alot, and changed alot. And that's not just from my years with Dad, but also my years in church planting and church revitalization.

If you get to know the updated version of Greg, you may not like him very much in a pastoral role, but you probably better get to know him a little bit before you ask him to pastor your flock. You may be asking for trouble, and you will probably get it.  :)

Even With Few Words, Dad & I Could Still Communicate

In Dad's last year, "yes", "no", "ok", or "alright" were his primary words. Sentences were still possible, but very rare. Sometimes, Dad spoke gibberish words and phrases. Sometimes, "yes" meant "no". Sometimes, "no" meant "yes". When he strung a few words together, that was a special treat and blessing. I smiled and rejoiced every time.

I have no doubt that the Lord untied his tongue and freed him to bless me with a few beautiful words just when I needed the blessing. When he was tired of sitting around the house, he would say "let's go." Often, I would grab the keys and say "ok". I didn't matter where we went. A drive to the farm or to town to run an errand usually met the need of the hour. He could be honest when asked something and simply say "I don't know". When asked if his coffee was good, he could say "it sure is". When asked how he was feeling, he would usually say "I feel OK", and for the most part, because of his overall good physical health, that was true too. When told "I love you, Dad", he would always reply "I love you too." My goodness, I needed to hear those words and never got tired of them. And yes, I miss hearing those words.

Even when he spoke gibberish, I told him I understood. Somehow I did. God be praised!

Father's Day, 2018

It's Dad's Day, but my Dad's not here. After 51+ years, it's a strange feeling, not sadness or emptiness or merely reminiscent of years past; it's just different.

And yet, I am reminded of that fifth of the "10 commandments", "Honor your father and mother...." (Ex 20:12) which was also re-affirmed by our Lord (Matt 15:4). For those of you who still have one or both of your parents in this world, I pray that your honor is not limited to one day, but is a lifetime of blessing your parents, and thanking God for the gift they are.

Happy Father's Day!