May 29, 2014
Submitted by: Kim
A short recap. After 30 years of him living in Southern Florida, I brought my father back to Michigan because of health issues. He now lives in an assisted living home close to my house. My responsibility that was set before me from a very long time ago and that was also a heart request from my mother is to care for my father in his last days.
As much as I was honored for this task, I would have never realized the great difficulty it would be – emotionally, physically, fearfully. The time and the effort that would go on day after day. And, of course, regular life is happening, which is often times full of surprises with family, business, friends, and ministry work.
Each day is a new emotion for him and for me. Each day, I enter the elevator that takes me to him. As the door closes, I’m not sure what I am to face walking into his room. What will he remember today? Will he talk about times long ago that seem so familiar? Or will it be of some event that happened that day where he lives? Does he remember how far he is from his previous home or how he even ended up here?
The elevator door shuts. And then it opens. Every single day I walk forward not knowing what to expect. As I enter in, my father so often shouts out to me, “Kimberly, you’re here?” He is so happy and pleased to see me. I try to remember why it was so hard to go into that elevator. He sings my praises that I am not worthy of. He speaks of beauty in me that I do not see. So often in his presence he sings praises over me that I do not deserve. Echoing in my head are the words of the world that I do not deserve them. Yet, my father says them to me day after day after day.
What a blessing it is to have a father sing praises. If I were not in this situation, I would not be hearing those very things. And if I did not enter his room, I would never have the opportunity to hear them. And I certainly would not have the opportunity to share them with you.
Our team is headed to Mexico to where I hope to share this very thing. The love of the father who shouts out “You are here!” A father who sings our praises, tells us of our beauty, and shares his great love for us.
Every day, our elevator door is opening. We have no idea of what we are walking into. The door opens and closes, and we are left with a wave of emotions and thoughts of what occurred in that day. Often how that day ended and we begin the next. But no matter how that previous day ended, before this day’s journey begins – as your elevator door opens – I encourage you to run straight to the father. Get on that elevator that takes you straight to him before you have to face whatever you need to this day.
I know that this time is not a coincidence. That, as we prepare as a group, we have to be filled with that very thing. That we must spend time with the father so we can be that witness, to shout out, be that voice, be that encouragement to a people who may have never heard it before, or they have heard and forgotten, or the enemy of this life has stolen that very truth away from them…
We have been charged by God to go out into the world and share his great love for his people. And we, DC3 Team Mexico, will do that very thing.