The Moment Everything Changed

This is the week when my life completely flipped upside down. Really, it happened about 6 months prior at dad's diagnosis of cancer, but what seemed like a distant reality came rushing in like a tidal wave. This blog post will contain many thoughts and emotions felt during the final week or so of my father being here. There were thoughts and emotions from his diagnosis up until the last week, but not like I experienced in those last days. A year has passed and I am just now feeling a little more like myself, but I am really just living in a new reality. This post is truly more for me to work through what this new reality is like and how I have seen God work and work me through it. There is a chance I will get raw and quite emotional, so if you read this be prepared.

The Call
On January 23, 2017 I received a call in the morning that completely shattered me. My mother called to say they were moving dad to hospice care and he was a do not resuscitate. I did my best to be strong for mom over the phone. I could hear it in her voice, the pain, the hurt, the sorrow building behind every word she told me. Maybe it was actually me though. Maybe I was actually hearing my own emotions through her voice. Regardless, I wanted to get off the phone as soon as I could. I could feel the breakdown coming and I didn't want her to hear it. Once I hit that red button on my I-phone I dropped next to my bed and wailed...wept. My wife and kids were all gone to their places that morning and I was alone. Except I wasn't. I cried to God. I cried for Him to see me and my family through the pain. I can't explain it, but there was peace even in the middle of pain and suffering. I even remember reflecting in that moment on Jesus weeping over Lazarus' death. Did Jesus feel the same as me? Did He feel the sting of death like I was? Even though dad wasn't gone yet, I knew it would take a miracle. I asked for that miracle, but also asked for peace to also accept what was the likely outcome. After this moment I went to the office and became overcome with emotion. My pastor grabbed me and just hugged me. He then worked hard to get me on a plane that very day to embark home. It felt like a long and distant flight...

The Visit
The rest of the next few days had many ups and downs for me. The ups were the re-connection I was able to have with family and friends, some I hadn't seen in years, and others who were more recent. At times through the days that followed my arrival to KC, dad would be awake and talk with us and other moments he would not. Most of the time, however, he was asleep due to a regimented pain medication schedule. While I had great moments with my family and friends I wanted nothing more than to see my dad like himself. I wanted to go fishing one last time, shoot hoops, watch a movie, or jam out to some Led Zeppelin. None of that happened and I think deep down some anger and bitterness arose. I tried to push it down and wait to deal with it, but it was here things started that would affect me for the rest of the year. I had moments of anger at God for taking me away from my family for years as I pursued His calling on my life to be a minister. I became bitter even toward my church (not their fault by any means) because "they took me away". Thoughts of all the time missed consumed me. The irony is that in those kind of moments that's when I would need dad the most. Thankfully, I had mom and my sister and many others to rely on at times. However, God in his infinite wisdom and grace gave me one person to look to even if he didn't know it. My uncle David, dad's youngest brother, stayed with us through it all. He was the most able to do so and would likely say he even felt compelled to. I truly believe that was the grace of God at work for all of us. His presence was readily needed and so very appreciated. I learned in those days that despite our reactions to facing the death of the loved one, people are very much needed for us. We can have a tendency to push them away and retreat into ourselves (something I did later in the year), but just the presence of someone can make what seems unbearable actually bearable. In these moments we must lean even more into the God of all comfort and lean into the people whom He has placed in our lives... 

The Legacy

The picture above is one of the most influential moments during the last few days. The young men above were dad's last small group of teens he would minister to directly. He spent a large amount of his time serving Jesus as a pastor, youth pastor, bus driver, and volunteer. For dad, his legacy was passing Jesus on to the next generations. These young men wanted to see dad one last time even though he was not responding or talking to anyone. We didn't know what he could hear, but I encouraged these guys to share stories, pray, and tell dad what they needed to. They poured themselves out and it was incredible! I then shared with them that the apostle Paul regularly called people he discipled his spiritual children. I then told the guys they were in many ways dad's spiritual children too and they now carried his legacy with them. I couldn't believe what was happen with me. Even in one of my darkest times I still was ministering and teaching. Honestly that comes from the man who taught me his legacy. We never stop sharing about a faith, a gospel that says we can be made right with God. We never stop seeing God moments to share with others things like this to help them grow. We may rest for moments, but at our core we are followers/servants of Jesus...

The Day
There isn't much to prepare you for a day like I experienced January 26, 2017. I had been around death, seeing people who were near their time. I have been to many funerals and seen death in that regard. I have never seen life actually leave a body. As a believer in Jesus I understand Scripture to teach that once the soul leaves the body they are present with Jesus. I have heard stories of people feeling peace or those leaving this earth seeing family and Jesus waiting for them. Because dad had so much pain medication in his system and because his organ were shutting down there was none of that. It was just an eerie quiet with his irregular breathing. I remember praying over dad and reading Scripture to him in these last few hours, but the final moments were excruciating. There is something called the death rattle that a person develops in their breathing. I had heard of it, but never experienced it until now. It was one of the hardest things to ever experience for even just a few minutes. It felt like hours to me though. It became so difficult to listen to I remember my mom, sister, and myself all saying it's time to go home, just go home now. Weeping, we almost welcomed the end of his life. I started to become angry at that feeling. I wasn't angry at anyone, not even God. I was angry at what I understood the reason for death to even take place: Sin. For some this may seem cruel, but in those few moments I think I understood how grave sin really is and why death is the consequence. Dad was a believer in Jesus, so death was just a sting, a moment. Life abundant awaited him. However, I hated the fact that we even experienced this part of "life". I've heard people say death is a natural part of life, but in those moments it didn't feel natural at all. It felt wrong. It felt like the "system" wasn't completely right. Perhaps it was my upbringing in theology that filtered my thoughts, but as Ecclesiastes 3:11 states, "...God has put eternity into the hearts of man..." we were made for everlasting life. Genesis appears to show prior to the entrance of sin man didn't know of death. So, maybe it's not as natural as we make it to be.
Once it was over, we cried some more, made some phone calls, and then we were numb. There was nothing left to do except go home. By now I awaited the arrival of my wife and kids, to hug them, to love them. So many emotions happened in the course of that day. 

The Days That Followed
The days that followed were difficult. Helping mom plan funeral arrangements, preparing for the sermon I was to deliver, and support family as they came in for the funeral. I was in a weird place. I sort of had an internal dilemma. Do I be Paul, son of Jeff, who's mourning or do I be Paul, pastor and guide to people who are hurting? I decided the first would come later, there were people who needed attending to. To any family who might read this and think I never wanted you to do that. Understand, it was my choice. I actually did what my dad did so many years ago when he lost his parents. Truly, God was sustaining me through it all, empowering me to do all I was able. Some asked how I could deliver a sermon with such confidence or speak about things with apparent ease? Sunday School answer: Jesus. Trust me when I say it was the visible power of what Jesus' Spirit can do in and through someone. I say this with all humbleness and I have no regrets about my decision.

I can truly say that one year to the date I have learned how to live in the "new norm" of life. The holidays last year were hard at times and different, but we made it through as a family. Dad was one of my "go to's" when I needed help in ministry, parenting, marriage advice, or just life. To have that taken away is hard. Part of 2017 I retreated into myself and actually blocked people out. It affected a lot of my life. So, I share this. When you experience something like this, trust that God will see you through. He will grow you and guide you to and in your new norm. Lean into people to speak about how you feel. We were made for community. Remember it takes time. I am just now starting to feel a little like myself again and that's okay. Allow for time to heal those wounds.