Did He Know He Was Leaving?
Today I share a quote, a story and a poem. And one day I will share the story in between these two moments. When everything began to crumble.
A Quote
“Your stories--good and hard and painful and unresolved--matter. They matter for who you are, and they matter to God…They show us, as they showed our spiritual ancestors, that God is faithful in the midst of our struggles, no matter what our stories suggest.” --Elicia Horton, His Testimonies My Heritage
As a thank you to the couple of readers who went paid this week, I decided to send an extra story out and a poem. This is no light matter, telling my story. But my hope is that telling my story gives you courage to share your own. And may we all walk away a little more healed and a little more trusting of our the Author and Perfecter of our faith. For make no mistake, my story is more about Him than anyone else.
Under The Stars
One night my dad had to go downstairs to the parking lot to put air in his tires with his new air pump. I loved that we had an air pump, that we could put air in our tires anytime we wanted. It was new and shiny and red. And he put it up close to the front left tire of our little, maroon Horizon.
It wasn’t usual for me to accompany my parents on any type of errand. I felt proud to be out there with him at night. He explained to me what he was doing and how was doing it, but what I really remember is him kneeling before me afterward, his hands at my side and saying,
“I want you to promise me you will go to college, and get a good job, that you will be a good example for your little sister and brother. They are looking up to you. Promise me.”
“I will, Daddy,” I said and I meant it. I would proudly do whatever he thought it best for me to do. There was a weight of responsibility I felt in his words, a weight he passed on to me that was too heavy for my seven-year-old hands. But I was proud to carry it. I didn’t know any better. There was something ceremonial about this moment under the stars. I stood before a kneeling father who spoke words of great importance, words that stuck like a covenant.