(This isn’t the typical “Worship Series” blog but the impact of this song and these thoughts left me in awe of Christ’s willingness to suffer and die for me as well as my gratitude for people who love well- like my Daddy. That, to me, is worship. Awe and gratitude. May I always have them both in the presence of my God)
I forgot that it was my Daddy’s birthday last week. It was the first birthday without him and I didn’t call my Mom to check on her. In fact, I only remembered because I went to see her that evening and she mentioned a call from her best friend because of it. That’s pretty bad! The feelings of being a horrible daughter and a terrible person started to overwhelm me until I realized I was acting pretty normal.
I have conflicting feelings about birthdays. Most years, I forget about everyone’s. I’ll grab a card that afternoon or send one late – if I remember at all. Usually, it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to me but other times I feel like I’m missing out on something that matters a lot. I wish my family had been more of an expressive and celebratory one but I’ve realized over the years that we’re just pretty reserved. Except for Christmas and Easter, holidays and special occasions weren’t a priority; however, loving one another every day of the year was. I can justify my forgetfulness by patting myself on the back and saying that I try to appreciate people all the time but the truth of the matter is, I believe it’s important to celebrate the people we love.
So, you might be wondering how the first birthday without my Daddy slipped my mind. Maybe because he never does. I think of him everyday. I remember hand-picked flower bouquets from his garden that I’d find waiting on my porch in the spring. Random cards left in my mailbox just to tell me how much he loved me and how proud of me he was. Lunch dates to Long John Silvers when I was a kid…for no particular reason. Firewood he would bring over in the winter because he was afraid we hadn’t had time to cut any. Spontaneous visits so he could clean the fans in my refrigerator that I didn’t even know I had. Letting me pour his coffee out of a thermos on long road trips because he knew it made me feel so grown-up. Quick and vulnerable statements that would let me see into the beautiful parts of his soul that were forever fighting demons of loneliness and insecurity all because he knew I had those same demons and he didn’t want me to fight them alone.
There are so many little things that he did to show me how much I was loved and how glad he was to have me in his world. Sure, he and Mom never forgot to give me a card for my birthday but it’s how they lived every other day of the year that made me feel special and made my life beautiful. Those things never slip my mind. None the less, I still felt terrible for forgetting this particular birthday. Until God showed me that He hadn’t forgotten and had orchestrated a special moment of celebration for my Daddy earlier that day without me even realizing why.
I sat in my driveway after leaving my Mom’s house in overwhelming gratitude that God would honor my Daddy along with me even before I realized it was his birthday. The way God loves and knows me never ceases to amaze me. Earlier that day I’d listened to a podcast and heard a song that deeply moved my heart. I sent it to my family and told them how much it reminded me of Gaga (my Dad). Later, my husband asked me why it touched me so deeply and why I cried every time I heard it. All I knew to say was that it was hauntingly beautiful. It expressed a feeling of loneliness and longing that I think we all feel at times but don’t know how to explain. It expressed my Daddy’s heart. He understood the darkness that we all sometimes face but he also understood, and could find his way to the light and hope of Jesus. He never spouted platitudes about life or faith but recognized that sometimes it’s all hard and remembered that Jesus intimately understands what we face. He was the master of turning pain into worship and doubt into faith. For many people, he was a guide from darkness to light. From hopelessness to hope. And for me…from loneliness to belonging.
Letting people know they aren’t alone, giving words to their struggles and making them feel understood goes a long way in healing hearts. We all just want to know that someone sees us and my Daddy saw people. He understood their pain. He was patient with them and he loved them with such grace.
Yeah, I want to get better at remembering birthdays but what I really hope to achieve in life is to encourage others in their darkest hour. To write and speak words that give voice to their pain and…then…lead them to worship. To have arms that accept and love others no matter who they are. If I can do that in hopes of walking in my Daddy’s footsteps, I think he would be thrilled. He would want me to do a better job at taking care of my sweet Momma but that’s a different story. 🙂 For now, I’ll mark the calendar for next year and Mom and I will have fish with vinegar at Long John Silver’s in celebration of this man that we love and who loved us all very, very well.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvytewIxll0
Simply Me and Jeans 