I remember when I was younger, time seemed to pass more slowly than now that I am older. I can’t quite say I’m old, nor can I claim to be young. I find myself in that strange in-between stage. During these years, I’ve begun to realize how quickly time seems to be moving. It doesn’t crawl like it did when I was a child in school. Back then, a day at school felt like it lasted forever. I had better things to do with my time, like watching “Underdog” on TV.
With the passing of every year, I gain a little more perspective.
Another time of in between
One of the harshest realities we face in life is losing loved ones. It’s been nearly a year since my father passed away. I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately. He endured a long and painful illness, and his passing signified freedom for him. He is no longer trapped in an immobile body, and the frustration of not being able to speak is gone. Now, he is free to worship God without any physical restrictions. However, for those of us who remain, while we rejoice in his freedom, we struggle with the reality of his absence and the absence of all those who have gone before him.
A few years ago, before Dad lost his ability to speak, he made it known that he wanted his ashes to be buried in Finland (his home country) where he buried my bother’s ashes a few years ago. I am not sure when I’ll be able to visit his grave and that of my brother. But I know that the grave is not where he is. He has gone on to the Lord’s presence (see 2 Corinthians 5:8). Nor does the grave have any hold on him (see 1 Corinthians 15:55-57). This gives me great comfort.
Perspective keeps me grounded
This perspective helps to keep me grounded. Even though I am now technically an orphan, I am not alone. Although I’m blessed with a loving husband, children, and grandchildren, I, too, was once someone’s daughter.
The final year and a half of my father’s life were spent in a nursing home. Whenever we traveled to South Florida, where he lived, I sat with him daily. Our roles had reversed. He could no longer be a shelter for his children or grandchildren. God’s presence during those days was intense; this is the only way I can explain it. I struggled (and still struggle) with the emotions of being far away when he was so unwell. No, it wasn’t an easy time at all. We have passed through those times that have helped us gain perspective and wisdom. Those are the times of in-between.
Those difficult seasons are harsh. But when the dust settles, the lessons learned in the darkness become our footing for the future.
A Father to carry us in the time of in between
Today, I remember Dad and the extraordinary life he lived. An immigrant from post-war Finland, he arrived in the USA with nothing but his youth and God on his side. He worked hard and was able to gain footing in a strange land. It was by no means easy. He had to learn a new culture, language, and way of life. I now understand what he and my mother went through, as I have also passed that way, moving to Africa. His time in between must have been bitter. But from it, he gained the perspective he needed to gain a footing in his new home.
Even as we grow older, we still need a Father. We will never outgrow our need for Father to carry us in the in-between time.
Pingback: No more laundry: a journey in grief - A Cultural Shift
Pingback: Strange and difficult so far and we’re not done yet - A Cultural Shift