If my Daddy had been a harsh, mean man. . .  If he hadn’t loved my Mama or his six children so intently. . . If his name in the community had been spoken behind the hands of gossips or been wine in the mouths of bar maids. . . If these days would be, of necessity, a time to mend fences and build bridges, how very much harder this would be.

But this pain, though so very real, and deep, and even sometimes scary, is nothing like it would be if there was unfinished business, or hearts broken by painful memories or public humiliation or a shady character.

When I go to the bridge, it’s already there.  I don’t have to wade muddy waters, or swim against a raging current.  I don’t have to check for weakness because of faulty foundations or eroding elements.  The bridge is there.  Like a faithful example of a loving Heavenly Father, my Daddy has made it easy for me to come to him, and find that he has already done his part to lead me safely home.


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2 responses to “

  1. My dear friend was here for a while again yesterday.  Her daddy died of cancer at the age of 50.  Her only sibling, a sister, died of cancer at 53.  Her husband, one of my hubby’s best friends, died at 54.  Her mother, age 88, has cancer now and has decided to not go any further with treatment due to side effects being worse than the treatment.  My friend is a tower of strength for me, for us … and a living, breathing picture of the grace of God. 
    Your Daddy lived his life to be “a praise to the glory of God” like Ephesians talks about over and over.  I don’t want to sound trite, but you will find that His Grace IS sufficient for whatever lies ahead.  I pray for my prayer sister and her hubby often and am asking our Father to let these last months be ones of incredible joy (in spite of circumstances) and peace beyond understanding.  Filled with laughter and sweet, tender moments for all of you.  Much love, Ethel

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