We all remember that Miracle

 

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My Dad lay, in the deepest of sleeps, his breath rattling loose around his fragile frame. He was leaving us. Departing this momentary world. Many of those around his bed had been allowed their moment and I waited anxiously for mine. Even with ten of us around his bedside My Heavenly Father graced me my space. As I looked up to an empty room tangible peace invaded my being.

Just my Dad and me.

I looked down, one hand held a wooden prayer cross and I wrapped his other around mine.

I wanted to hold his hand as he was ushered in.

That smooth, familiar hand.

That had steered the truck to support our family.

That had betrayed…defended.

That held back screaming fans at the town hall.

That gave out aid in Croatia.

The hand that had surrendered to God.

 The miracle of his surrender made the redemption of God all the more glorious. We all remember that miracle – when God broke into the chaos, pouring rivers of living water and drowning dysfunction. Wherever the river flowed, transformation happened.

I said all I had to say; my throat squeezed tight, words finally filling my voiceless pain. He heard me, his frail, cancer eaten physical body slowly departing, but he heard me. Tears rolled down his cheeks and mine. Salt heals you know.

‘Well done Dad. Well done’

As a family we waited a few more minutes, holding every second dear, then we all gathered closer and held hands, tight.

Sounds never heard before, emotions never experienced. Then…the most glorious February sunlight shone through the hospice window, a new light.

Remembering you today Dad and so thankful to our Savior,

Love, Shell x

I pray for those of you in the unending shadows of death’s darkness, that you will not be overcome by fear.

I pray you will be reassured that He is with you in those dark moments and that He is near with protection and guidance.

I pray you will know His comfort. His presence. His peace. You are loved. Amen.