I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless
Ills have no weight and tears no bitterness
Where is death's sting, where, grave, that victory
I triumph still if Thou abide with me

Henry Francis Lyte

On that night, I was involved in a beautiful time of worship at the Loop and a good message by Dave Edwards. I left there and went up to Republic Coffee and read the scriptures for sometime, gleeful with the thoughts of eternity as a renewed creature. I remember using the word "content" when I answered Lauren how I was doing.

Though as a believer, there is much to rejoice about, yet as someone who is now disconnected to one whom he deeply loves, I am sorrowful.

My dad had a severe heart attack on the night of February 10 as I locked in good conversation with my community group leader after the Loop. The next morning my sister, her husband, my mother and I were in the first 10 minutes of the 12:30-1PM visitor time in ICU. I prayed intensely for healing as he lay unconscious before us. As I watched his heart monitor, I saw it skip a beat and then resume normally only to skip another. The heart rate per minute began to be erratic, went from 89 to 74, down to 56, then 64, and I continued to watch the individual beats, there came a time when no beat followed. It was a green flatline which was immediately followed by flashing red bordered screen with sirens going off. I gazed at the screen in disbelief and the dream sequence for me began as the world slowed down and I turned to my left to see a nurse rushing in slow motion as I stepped away. I continued to walk away as other nurses ran in molasses motion while telling us to clear the area. I weakly walked, completely blown away by what I just witnessed. More doctors/nurses came rushing by and I heard the PA system call for some emergency team. I might as well have been walking around a WWII battlefield after a bomb blew up near me. A nurse brought us to a family conference room where I led my family as I could in prayer and reading. A chaplain was brought in from us though he was more of a kind soul than a preacher.

I continue to praise God, and even during the climax of the crisis, when they shuttled us off to a conference room as they tried to bring him back, one of the passages I read was Psalm 100. No doubt the world would find that as a curious passage to read to a family who just witnessed their loving father die suddenly. But we realize what we have in eternity– for me it's not some theory, or one of those "one day I hope maybe", rather it's a life of applied understanding of what awaits. It's hard, lemme tell you, I was so close to my dad and our relationship arrived to a mentor/friend stage, so it really hurts to be disconnected with him.

I know I'm going to deeply feel this for a long time. I knew this day would occur soon so I made each birthday/holiday really special and driven by gifts of caring, but I just never fully realized it actually occurring. He was going to be there on the day I would marry, you know?

The days have gone by since then but they are not the days with the prefixes of Thur, Fri, Sat, Sun rather unique days that have yet to be named.

In a sense, it's a really joyous occasion. We know that the point of his death was not in the least bit the end and that's why I choose the word "disconnected" to describe it. I just can't call him up at any whim and ask him how I can cook up something involving potatoes and onions. God strengthened me throughout this time as I lead our family. I was taken aback myself to hear myself pray during those critical moments in the hospital. It's a good situation in that things are REALLY great right now for my dad for he FINALLY has me beat in our theological debates. My only concern is for my family with how we will handle this uncertainty. As we were outside leaving the hospital, I remember using the word "awesome" to describe the event, that my dad finally gets to have what he always wanted.

The funny thing about death is how it happens all the time yet we know down to our soul level, that it's not normal and it always seems to shock us. We're right to think it's not normal because its not who we were meant to be. Long ago, sin entered the picture. But praise be to God that Jesus chose to do His Father's will on that dark night so that we have our life restored and will experience who we were supposed to be.

The funeral was Valentine's Day, a picture of true love. For those of us who are believers, it was a really good service, but those who are not it looked pretty tough since it must have seemed SO final.

We set it up so that there was a two hour visitation leading up to the funeral service itself. I remember running around and touching those that I could to encourage them and set an example of the strength God gives me that if my dad's very own son could display such courage while sharing the big picture of the reason why we are here, perhaps they could very well be influenced to live for Him. Our inner family of my sister, her husband Ed, my mom and I were all over the place trying to comfort others. At one point, I remember thinking my mobility felt similar to the work I did as a groomsmen at various weddings.

As a family friend for the past twelve years, the preacher gave a message that was exactly what should have been said, an encouraging, uplifting message that celebrated the time my dad spent here on this earth. The message had its humorous moments and honorable ones for my dad has always been one who let one know where he stood with him and stood true to his beliefs. The message had scripture throughout which encouraged others to become a Christian, which was really awesome since my dad is the encouraging type. The preacher shared to the group that in 1995 my dad gave him a study bible which so happens to be the same bible he uses to preach. Though we didn't know what to expect, no tears were shed within our inner family during the service, and my mom and sister only needed a Kleenex to wipe the effects of the warmness from the hands that they had held together.

Later, I would be told by various friends how they have never been to a funeral like this one.

Truly, I feel God has provided strength (and continues) for my family that is not of ourselves. Not too long ago I would have crumbled under such duress. During the darkest hour for our family in that quaint, family conference room at the hospital, through the flood of tears and the shock of what we witnessed, we still praised and gave glory to Him. If we had focused on our own selves during this time, it would have destroyed us. Psalm 139 has been one of the passages that I find myself meditating upon through these past few days with consideration of His timing and knowledge.

Fortunately, I've already given away my couches, kitchen table, thrown out my bed, yada yada yada... my apartment is pretty empty, so I made the decision to move back home so that my mom would not be by herself and to help out with financial matters. It is the right thing to do. The inner family came before self for my dad and among many other things, he has passed that legacy on to me. There's definitely a HUGE paradigm shift from the "limitless" supply of resources from my dad's printing to a financial buffer and my paycheck, but as the months pass, truly I do completely believe in God's provisions.