My dad is my hero. I know all kids think of their parents as heroes when they’re growing up, but my dad’s career as a firefighter means he’s saved people’s lives, so to me, as a kid, he was a real hero.
I always knew my dad would protect me no matter what, even if it meant giving up his own life. He’s a person who always made me feel safe and secure. He was always there. My dad never put his career before us. It wasn’t until I was an adult I realized the rarity and value of that decision and I am forever grateful for it.
My dad has played many roles throughout my life, not just my hero. He was my teacher. He taught me how to ride a bike and helped me with my math homework (my weakest subject). He was my coach. My dad would help me practice for volleyball and prepare throughout the summer for cross-country season. He was my protector. He taught me to always pay attention to my surroundings, listen for running cars in the parking lot, how to avoid physical confrontations, and how to get out of them if I couldn’t. He was my leader. My dad is one of the hardest workers I know and his work is excellent, not mediocre. He taught me to work hard, problem solve, think critically, the importance of mind over matter, and perseverance.
To this day he continues to teach me the power of perseverance.
It was the summer of 2018. My dad went to the doctor because of some discomfort he was experiencing. They found something. Our hearts sank. The doctor said it was complicated. It could be a big deal or it could be not much of a problem. It’s been kind of a waiting game since then, until this past January.
My dad had his appointment to determine if something needed to be done or if he just needed annual checkups. It was the latter. Praise God, right?
For me, it was a blow. I had been praying nearly daily, praying on my knees God would simply remove this thorn from my father’s side. “God remove this burden from my dad! Perform a miracle! Bring glory to Your Name! No one will be able to explain it apart from You!” I cried out through tears, hands lifted, head bowed, on my knees before God.
But He hadn’t done it. Not only that, but it feels like every few months over the last two years doctors found more could-be-something-could-be-nothing’s. I’ve felt pretty defeated this past week. Now my prayer has been, “God what are You doing? What is this? Why won’t You just heal him? Do You know how miraculous that would be?”
Yet in the midst of my prayers of defeat, my dad is lifting up praises to God. He’s thanking God for revealing these things to doctors now rather than later. He’s thanking God nothing has been truly serious. He’s thanking God for His goodness and faithfulness.
Only as a write this has God revealed to me the power of my dad’s praises in the middle of this trial. This is what will bring glory to My Name.
It’s not an easy answer to accept, but if there is one thing my life has shown me it’s God is good. Even when I don’t understand, even when it looks bad, even when it feels like everything is falling apart, He is good. This truth is unwavering in my heart.
I’ve received many things from my dad. I have his smile, his eyes, straight hair, and his tendency to get hangry, his sense of humor, and all the lessons he has taught me. I think this lesson may be the greatest one he has taught me yet. I love you, Dad.
“Life with God is not immunity from difficulties, but peace within difficulties.” ~C.S. Lewis
Note: Please do not approach my dad about his health. Although this post is about the effects on me, this is his life and his health. Being asked about something you’re dealing with over and over again can be so discouraging, even if it’s well intentioned. Keeping him in your prayers on the other hand, would be encouraging and helpful. Thank you for your understanding and prayers!