May 25, 2006
It was about 7:40 in the morning. My wife and I had just arrived at the school we both were teaching at, and I was signing in. Someone in the office came running back and told me I had to call my mom, right away.
At the hospital.
My dad woke up complaining that something didn't feel right. He wanted to go to the doctors. Anytime Dad wanted to go to the doctor, there was a problem. Mom wanted to call 91, but he wouldn't let her. They hopped into the car and took off for the hospital.
Dad didn't make it there.
When Mom called, it wasn't official, though it was already over. We left school and before we could get clothes thrown into a suitcase to head down, my sister called to let us know he was gone.
My wife was pregnant at the time -- in only three more months, she would give birth to our first child. I've gone from being a manager at Lowes to teaching to preaching. I've gone from barely finishing my undergrad degree to attending seminary. I can only speculate about what Dad would have thought, though I know that he'd have been shocked at the idea of me getting my masters, and actually wanting to do it.
In a lot of ways it was my own trying to deal with his death that led me to seriously consider seminary. I wanted answers. There was a part of me that was mad that God would take him before he got to see his granddaughter. I could have either rejected God entirely (as I've seen some do) or try to find out the answers to the questions I had.
Five years later, the only thing I've really learned is that I'll never learn enough. But I know enough to realize that there are people out there with questions, and they need someone to provide the answers. Someone to point them to the Answer. And I figure that's my job.
And now, five years later, my wife is expecting our second child. We just found out that it will be a boy, and he's due on September 25 -- the day after my Dad's birthday. And I think that's pretty cool.
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