Dear Dad,

Moments ago I read on Facebook that someone's father/grandfather had died. My heart feels for the family in their earthly loss. In the midst of sadness, however, a daughter shared the beauty of his Homegoing: "On April 1st, Dad ... woke up, had his breakfast, coffee, and vitamins, sat down in his favorite recliner, folded his hands, bowed his head, and stepped into the presence of the Savior he loved."

My eyes welled with tears not in sorrow for such a tender passing into Heaven, but because yours has not been this way. Who would ever expect to feel a twinge of jealousy about death? I know that we have reached the point now that both you and Mom wish that God would gently take you to your heavenly Home in like manner. We are long past the point, though, where it might happen in your own earthly home or favorite recliner. And of course - insert a little humor here - you would never start the day with a cup of coffee! Tea, and only tea, it is.

Dad, I recently talked to Mom about the "whys" of your still being here. Most days you are in pain, never able to find physical comfort after the many months of moving only between your bed and wheelchair because your legs have stopped working and your strength has faded. You are dependent on aides and nurses in order to be bathed and dressed and everything in between. Your mind and words are muddled. That is if you are even awake and cognizant of others' presence, which is less and less frequent of late.

Mom and my sisters and I all love you and will miss you so much until our eternal reunion, but we have each told you (just in case you needed to hear it) that you have our blessing to let go. In the end, we understand your timetable is God's but what is hard to comprehend is the extended waiting and pain. As I said previously, the "whys."

Yet here is what I believe and what I know. And it is what you, too, have always believed and have always known. In fact, it is what you taught us all our lives growing up under your roof and wisdom. 

"Nothing is wasted with God." 

If you are still with us, it's because your purpose in God's sovereign plan is not yet completed. I truly believe there is someone (or more than one) He still intends to reach through your life and testimony. Your lingering here is not about you.

But then again ... neither was your life. You surrendered it to Jesus not just once for salvation, but time and again as you released home and family and familiarity to serve on the mission field and years later when you turned around to leave that country which had become beloved to serve back at "home." You surrendered it when you surrendered us, first to college where the distance felt unbearable and never again would be permanently breached because later you surrendered all of your daughters, sons-in-law and grandchildren back to Chile.

You even surrendered it when you chose Calvary Homes are your retirement location because you didn't want us to leave the mission field to care for you someday (although of course it is not that simple, and caring for you is not a burden but a blessing!)

My husband told me recently of something he read concerning death and the Christian. It was the thought that death is one final step of faith for a believer after a lifetime of walking step-by-step in faith. We've trusted Jesus with our life, and now we must trust His promises to be true at the moment life ends. When Pedro shared this with me, I naturally pictured the actual moment of death but now I realize it is trusting through the whole process, however long and in whatever manner God chooses. And it is not just the individual, but all of us who love him who are faced with this choice of faith at the end.

Dear Dad, you are greatly loved and deeply admired by all of us and so many whose lives you've touched. We are praying for you and Mom day by day. And for that someone your life and story is still meant to reach. I am forever grateful that God made Jim Christian my father.

All my love,
Stephanie