Today is the 6 month anniversary of my father’s death. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe I’m grieving for the two most important men in my life at the same time, but then the 14th comes around, and I think: “Wow, another month has gone by already.” I miss my dad, and think of him every time I drive home, wanting to drive by his house just to see how the new owners are treating it, or when I walk by the City Cafe and see “his” bench. Yet, I know he was ready to be with Jesus, so I can’t be sad for him.
Knowing the six months was upon us, I was encouraged by some news from my sister last night: my eldest niece, Ashli, just learned that she was was elected deacon at her church — Dad’s church — my home church. My sister and I both commented on how Dad would have love to have seen that, since my mother was the first woman to break the mold at First Baptist many years ago as the first woman deacon there. Then I thought about Ashli, and the task she has, and I remembered how Mother took on the responsibility when she was chosen.
My mother saw that her role as a woman deacon was to minister to the widows and single women in the church; for as a woman, she was in a unique position to meet their needs as a male deacon could not. She was active in visiting women, calling on them, writing them cards, and serving them in times of trouble. The women under her “care” loved her for it, and I was proud of her for how she fulfilled this important role by using her uniqueness as a woman to reach other women. I was proud of her, and I pray for her granddaughter to walk in her footsteps.
So, on this day of grief, I think of Dad and smile — for he was so proud of his wife for who God had made her and how she used her gifts to serve the Body — and I know he would be so proud of his granddaughter as she does the same. In the end, the good does always outweigh the bad, because I can remember so many “good” days with my father, and rejoice in the “good” results of his life in the lives of others, and say God is good.
Grace and Peace