Dad

You never want to see your Dad like this until he becomes bedridden, at which time you would give anything to see him like this again. Dad's world now consists of sleeping, taking a bite or two of food, and the less and less frequent trips to the living room chair. When Dad was in the hospital, it was certainly a reality check for me. Bathing, shaving, and even combing his hair were things I never thought he would need my help doing. Dad was always so independent and capable. He was the one you came to for help; he was never the one asking for help. That is not to say he was arrogant or prideful. Dad is still (and always has been) a God-fearing man. My Dad taught us by word and action to always give credit to God for even the most simple accomplishments of the day.

Strange how life takes us all back to where we started-- completely vulnerable and totally dependent upon the assistance of others. I know it must be hard for men like Dad to mentally surrender to the frailty of their bodies. At times Dad can be cantankerous, insisting that he doesn't need help and is tired of being told what to do. The body no longer obeying his commands or responding to his wishes. I can only imagine his frustration; although, I have already begun to experience such mutinies from my body. But it is our faith that sustains our family. We take comfort in knowing that Dad (by his own testimony and life) accepted the gift of salvation from Christ and as a result has a home awaiting him in heaven. We take comfort in knowing that by all indications the return of Christ is not far off and the end of our suffering in these sin-cursed bodies will be over (I Corinthians 15).