To Run the Race...To Finish the Course.

Those of you that know me know that I am rarely at a loss for words. I am a pretty happy go lucky, extroverted, talkative, outgoing girl. As a kid I wrote all the time. Poetry, stories, songs. I kept a notebook with me on trips. I loved to write. I stopped writing sometime in high school and never really picked it back up until starting this blog. However, I think it's pretty clear I can typically talk to a brick wall or make friends with a tree. I mean I am a speech therapist for my livelihood - it kind of comes with the territory. Today though, today, I can barely begin to put the words together to write this post and at the same time I feel like I could write forever.

There is no easy way to write this. One week ago, Monday May 4, 2015 at approximately 8:30pm, my Dad, my precious Dad was killed in a tragic motorcycle crash. He was not at fault. He was struck by another driver failing to yield to traffic. His wife (Debbie) was also in the crash and remains in hospital near their home in Texas but is expected to make a full recovery (Thank you Jesus). Please continue to lift up Debbie and her family as they continue her journey to both physical and emotional recovery from this.

 So this week I have been broken. My heart has been lost. I have found peace and I have fallen apart. I have told his wreck story so many times it feels like a script now. I have thought about his life with me and my sister and my mom and my memories of him and shared so many of them sometimes it feels like he should still be right here. I have never felt pain or loss or brokenness like this as I know only a child with a parent lost too soon could feel.

 My 30th birthday was 4 days after the wreck (May 8). My Dad frequently went on extended mission trips to Papau New Guinea and the Salomon Islands to provide medical services to the poor there (he was a retired physician). He passionately loved serving and working there and had clearly, finally found some peace and fulfillment in this work. My heart breaks he won't be able to continue that ministry. Dad was supposed to leave and go back to his other home in Moorhead, MN to prepare for one of these trips at the beginning of May but I had asked him to stay for my birthday and to see me do the Ironman. He did. This small action of choosing to stay meant more to me than many of you will realize.

Here's the sad, and glorious and redeeming truth that I truly believe only God could provide. My relationship with my Dad was complicated at times. My Dad was a great man. His capability for love and kindness, especially in the last years of his life were just incredible. My Dad also battled many demons. Addiction and depression plagued his life for many many years and the pain and shame he carried on his heart from past hurts he caused (especially to his family) continued to hang on his heart despite his full knowledge that he had been fully forgiven by God and by all of us and was desperately and unconditionally loved. He struggled with maintaining his relationship with me and my sister after our parents divorced when we were young and was absent many times during our childhood and parts of our early adulthood for a myriad of reasons - which made his choice of staying and choosing and saying yes to being here for this milestone in my life so much sweeter. He missed so much when I was growing up and I am so grateful that even though he didn't get to see my 30th birthday and won't be there physically on Saturday to see me race- that there is peace and blessing in knowing his intention and that in his final days (although we could have never predicted what was to come), that he was able to take one last opportunity to show me his love in CHOOSING to stay. Thank you Lord for that provision, grace and blessing.

 So while at many times in my life growing up, Dad could be a source of pain or grief, it also gives me incredible perspective to see the Lord's redeeming hand work. In his last years, my Dad was fully sober for the first time in a long time. He had devoted his life and knew and walked closely with the Lord. He bought a house here in Texas so he could actually BE close instead of just visiting. He was so intentional about being in contact and being in mine and my sister's (and my precious niece/his granddaughter's) lives as he could in addition to the lives of his other two children (my half siblings) who I know are grieving him too. We actually had dinner dates, he came to family events and we didn't have to worry about him, he prayed over us and for the first time in a long time we didn't just see a glimpse of the goofy, smiling, loving, involved, intentional, kind man we all knew he was in his heart but we were blessed with a long unobstructed view for the first time in our lives. Truly only the Lord could provide that restoration in his life and then in his grace and might - provided restoration to his relationships with us.

My God was so patient with my Dad. I fully believe that he did not take my Dad home until he walked right with him and restored relationships he had broken or lost. What a mighty God of restoration we serve. Even though I don't understand his timing or why he had to go in such a tragic and traumatic way, I am so grateful for that grace and provision in his and my life. It is for that reason that I know and feel that peace that passes all understanding and have felt it since I found out early Tuesday morning of his passing despite the heartbreak and pain of knowing he is gone.

So this weekend I will race for him. I know he will be up there cheering me on the whole way. In his goofy cargo shorts, a BBQ or gumbo stained LSU tshirt and terrible white new balance tennis shoes or brown boat shoes that so needed to be replaced and probably playing his guitar and doing some goofy dance, hooting and hollering in the way only he could. While right now this weekend, this race, seems unfathomable at times, I can run this race and finish this course with him by my side the whole way. I think he would have wanted that. 

 So this one is for you Dad. The silly, kind, loving, restored man who brought me into this world and walked me down the aisle, the man who loved to play his guitar and banjo, hit the ski slopes going way too fast for his age, could smoke the meanest and most delicious brisket and ribs you ever put in your mouth (and that's coming from a Texas girl) while making a pot of gumbo that would rival any New Orleans kitchen. This one's for you. I will remember you always. Every time I look in the mirror I see the dark hair we shared, my big blue eyes you loved, and that big Bass head that makes me have to buy all my hats in an XL just like you (it's for all those brains you always said we shared). I will cherish every sweet moment we spent together in those good times and I will celebrate and glorify the redemption of the bad times as I know you did too. You were so loved - unconditionally and always without ceasing. I know you'll be right there dancing and cheering away and I can't wait until the day we can be silly and tell stories and we can see you again and hug your neck tight. You will be missed everyday. I love you Dad. You ran your race well. You have finished your course. Rest in Peace precious Daddio...until we see you again.