I Didn’t Know

 We buried my Dad today. After the prayers were prayed and the scriptures were read, after the flowers were lovingly placed in the grave and all the banana pudding was eaten and everyone had gone home, I stood with my mom and confessed that I didn’t want to bury Dad. I wanted him to stay  in the power supply box on her dresser. She asked me why I hadn’t said anything sooner and my response was, I didn’t know. 

Since my Dad’s death I keep thinking of all the things I didn’t know. I didn’t know the last time I saw him would be the last time. I didn’t know how painful losing him would be. I didn’t know how to comfort my friends who had lost a parent before I became someone that lost a parent. I didn’t know I could be rude to perfectly nice strangers that ask me how my day is going. I didn’t know burying my Dad would feel so final. I didn’t know my grief would turn me into someone I don’t recognize. 

I’ve always enjoyed the crowds and “working a room.” I can make people laugh. I can sit and listen and offer encouragement and insight and at times even wisdom. In other challenging times in my life I’ve been able to apply the truths that are rooted deep in my heart and find the hope, joy and peace that the Lord promised to those that are in Him. 

The past two weeks have shown me in a new way that the Lord is my strength.  I’ve done hard things before and called out to Him for help. I’ve walked through painful valleys and reminded myself of His faithfulness.  I’ve been broken-hearted and known that I’m being refined or pruned or prepared for a greater purpose. But these past two weeks I’ve had nothing to give. I’ve not been able to preach the truth to my wounded heart. I’ve not wanted to be around people or carry anyone’s burdens. And the Lord has met me here. You see, God knows me. He knows when I need to pull away and sit quietly and He knows when I need to be hugged and encouraged. He knows when it’s hard for me to pray so He reminds others to. He knows all the things I didn’t know. Psalm 139 makes more sense to me now. I’m encouraged by verses such as “O Lord you have searched me and you know me.” Or, “you perceive my thoughts from afar.” And, “you are familiar with all my ways.” When I don’t recognize myself, He knows me. When I struggle to walk in truth instead of emotions, He guides me. When I am unable to love and serve others the way I used to, He cares for them. 

I still have much to learn about faith and God and how to live a life in full surrender to Him. But what a gift it is to know that He knows me and the condition of my heart even when I can’t articulate it.  He carries me and is with me and will remind me of who I am.

Fatherless

I last posted on this blog 7 years ago. So much life has happened from then until now.  I bought and sold a house then bought another. I’ve been called “Auntie Kristin” to a new niece and nephew. I’ve had the honor of discipling 5 women and girls. My marital status has changed back to single. I’ve traveled to 15 States I had never been to. But the most life-altering change has been the sudden passing of my Dad one week ago today. Yesterday, at his funeral, I could not contain my emotions when I walked in and saw that a room that seats 200 was standing room only with people lining the walls, the lobby, and even an overflow room. It was a testament to who my Dad was and how well he loved others. 

My grief has surprised me. It steals my breath and robs my sleep. A song, a thought, a photo can instantly make my strength give way and I’m crumpled on the floor.  It cares not for where I am or what I am doing. It pours hot tears that seem to never end and just as harshly it numbs as if I’m an empty shell. It slows my brain and leaves me in a fog. It is unforgiving and raw. 

Over the past 6 months, Jesus has been teaching me about Himself as the Bridegroom. He asked me to spend 6 months in intentional singleness as He gently and graciously helped me unlearn some views I held about marriage and a husband’s role. He has shown me how He longs to be the only One that comforts my lonely heart. The 6-month period ended 6/12/2023.  My Dad died 6/11/2023. I don’t yet understand the significance of that. But I know God is purposeful. 

This left me feeling completely abandoned. I have been all too aware that my siblings are all married and have someone to hold them as they cry themselves to sleep over the deep loss of Dad. I have wanted to speak truth to my mom and help shoulder her immense pain. But I can’t. I have found it so very difficult to speak of the hope that I have. I know the truth but I have not wanted to hear it. For days I left the room when others would laugh and share memories of Dad. I cringed every time someone told me he was in a better place. It’s true. He is in a much better place. And I’m grateful that as I sat on a hospital room floor and begged God to put life back into my Dad that He gave me the strength to pray for my selfish heart. I once asked my Dad that if he died would he want me to pray for God to raise him back to life. He quickly and decidedly replied, “No.” 

Today is Father’s Day. I thought about the word “orphan.” I’ve always understood this word to mean a child without parents. But in Scripture in the original Hebrew and Greek languages it is better translated as “fatherless.”  My mom is incredible and has loved me and cared for me and sacrificed so much for me. But there is something about a Father. A Father is the gatekeeper of the home. A Father protects his family from the storms. A Father leads his family through challenges and teaches them to stand firm. My Heavenly Father generously gifted me with an incredible earthly father. And while I know there are many days ahead that grief will take over, I can confidently say I am not Fatherless. My Father has given me strength for each day. For every task that has needed to be done, He has enabled me to accomplish it. He has put a little more light in each day and I find rest in the truth that He will continue to sustain me. God’s goodness to make me a daughter of Marc Singletary shows me that He works everything for my good and I can trust Him.