Mourning my Dad is hard work. Being who I am, ya'll know I have done my research on grief. I do not expect that I will go through all the stages in perfect order, nor do I think there will be a timetable. I merely wanted to understand what was coming my way. I'm still in the shock and disbelief stage right now, it is hard for me to fathom a world where Jack Robinson is not here.
The grief comes in waves and I am comforted by talking about him, comforted by writing about him. Nobody is sick of me yet, so I am taking advantage of their sympathetic ears while they are willing to listen to me. I am in regular contact with all of my family, even my extended family is feeling the loss of such a good man.
In the days leading up to the funeral, I had to think about what I was going to say. Each Daughter had a minute or two to say something about him and I struggled with what I could possibly convey in such a short period of time. The night before the funeral, I was talking with some of the family and feel like the Lord laid on my heart that I should tell folks how Dad mirrored God the Father. This is what I said:
"When I was four years old, someone pointed to picture of a man I did not know and asked who he was. The answer was "The best man at Jack and Pat's wedding". I was appalled and quickly spoke up saying, "MY Daddy was the Best Man at that wedding!" I believe I speak for all of us girls, when I say we all felt the same way. Dad was one of the rare people in this life that preached the Gospel without saying a word. He modeled Godly behavior to all of us and especially showed us what a loving Father was like. As a result, I have a wonderful relationship with my Heavenly Father.
I understand the reverential fear that the Proverbs speak of. I understand the protectiveness and intense love that He feels for me and how no matter how bad I screw up, I can never loose his love. I understand loving discipline and even at my age Dad would come and talk to me if he did not agree with something I was doing. I carry with me a fierce desire to make Him proud of me.
Everyday, when I pray the Lord's Prayer, "Our Father" carries with it all the warmth and love that it is supposed to and I have my Daddy to thank for that."
In the days that have passed, I realized that my relationship with the Lord has been primarily with Jesus. My prayers, my conversations, my images - they were all about and to Jesus. The other night as I was praying, I felt a strong presence of God the Father and was comforted beyond measure. When I was feeling bruised and battered and buffeted by guilt and regret, I felt the protective hand of the Father on my behalf and I was safe. I will trust in this process, I will thank God for his provision, and I will rest while He keeps watch.
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