This year, today is easier…

That is the first time on the 16th of December I’ve been able to say that in 11 years. I guess the only 3 words that I can really follow-up the title with is “…thank you Jesus”. I should probably warn you that I’m about to pour my heart out, and since I’m already sobbing pretty bad, I can guarantee it’s not going to be a ‘fun’ post to read, nor a short one. But hopefully it will at least be heartwarming. ~Actually it has taken me a couple days to complete this, so for me, as I’ve been thinking about what to say and typing it as I could, it has been therapeutic :)

Today is the anniversary of the death of my dad. And a little piece of me died with him. I am the baby of 3 girls, and was such a daddy’s girl – I loved that man so much. And since he died at this time, it sort of “killed” the joy of Christmas for me too. As a matter of fact, the first couple of years after he died I didn’t do any decorations, and if I could I’d have ignored that it even existed. I would even get a little angry at times when I’d see all the lights and festive things – how dare life go on happily at this time of year?? Shouldn’t everyone be as sad, mad even, as I was? I did only what I had to for my kids, nothing more.

But it wasn’t just at Christmas that I was like this. I think I began falling into a depression but had just enough things going on in my life to keep it from being too bad. I still had my mom who I also loved dearly, and her health began failing quickly after daddy died – so my attention had to turn to taking care of her. And of course I had my sweet, sweet husband and my wonderful children.

But here is the thing… I was angry at God. See, I lived my life devoted totally to the Lord at the time of my dad’s death and had for years. And He had promised me my daddy would accept Jesus as his savior before he died and I would know beyond any doubt that he would be with Him in Heaven. When my dad was in the hospital, my pastor was supposed to come that Sunday after church and we all knew he would ask daddy if he wanted to accept Jesus, etc. Well it snowed that day in Alabama (very rare). He couldn’t get to the hospital. Because daddy was in the CICU we could only see him for a few minutes every few hours. That day (Sunday) he was very distraught and restless. He had suffered a heart attack on Friday and was put on a ventilator. Because of him being so restless that day they had to restrain his hands so he wouldn’t pull the ventilator out. But he just wanted to tell me something. He clearly wanted me, and when I went to his side and took his hand, and asked him what it was, he looked at me with tears in his eyes and I knew. I just knew. So I asked him if he wanted to pray and the tears began to fall down his face, he squeezed my hand, shook his head yes, and sighed as if with relief. I told him not to try to talk, but to just nod and squeeze my hand in agreement; and I led my daddy in the sinner’s prayer. He cried and cried as he nodded in agreement accepting the Lord as his Savior. After that, he became very peaceful and finally slept until he died early the following Tuesday morning.

Now you may be asking yourself why in the world I would be mad at God after such a beautiful honor and gift was given to me. I’ve asked myself that same question. But in my warped state of mind at that time, I felt betrayed. I believed that if I prayed, and believed and had faith, that my prayers would be answered. But I ended up burying my daddy anyway – even with all the faith in the world that I’d be bringing him home alive instead. I’m not mad at God anymore! And thankfully, He never gets mad at us or leaves us; he just waits on us to come back to Him :)

So… just as I was finally coming to grips with my dad’s death and getting a little back to normal, my mom died. That really sent me close to the edge without anyone even knowing the extent of it. Thank God Ella came along right after that – she is what kept me from going over that edge. As well as Isabella and the rest of my family!

But to be perfectly honest, about a year ago I started having migraines again (I used to suffer from them terribly and they just stopped, for the most part). My doctor put me on a mild anti-depressant to ward off the headaches; but it has done so much more for me. It has helped me through this apparent depression I’ve been in that even I didn’t realize. It’s like a shield has been removed from my eyes and I can actually see how I’ve been. How I secluded myself from friends and even family at times. How I’ve been robbed of my joy and my peace. And how long it’s been since I had laughed with real happiness over just something silly.

So there you have it… the 16th thru the 18th of December will always be a sad time as I remember my dad; but it is also a time of rejoicing – he is after all in Heaven celebrating this special time with Christ in person!! And God chose me, of all He had to choose from, to make sure of that. How could I possibly be anything but honored and humbled :) Our Lord never fails to keep a promise, and in case you can't tell - my joy in Christmas (and life) has been restored!! To God goes the Glory :)