The phone call instructed I must come quick. Daddy’s hours on earth were coming to an end. I pressed the accelerator to the floor and headed for the convalescent center. “Lord, please give me a word, a sign, something to know my dad belongs to You and we’ll be together again in heaven.”
Daddy came to live with us after Mama died, bringing his impatience and ill temper as roommates. I was desperate for assurance that he was heaven bound.
Daddy had long since quit going to church. I never saw him open his Bible or pray, other than grace over a meal. Yet, “Amazing Grace” had been his life’s song. He taught the lyrics to his first grandchild. And to Daddy’s delight this toddler ran up and down in his crib at dawn each morning singing “’mazing grace, sweet da sound, ‘mazing grace, sweet da sound.”
A few days before his death I found the courage to ask, “Daddy, are you afraid to die?”
He retorted with his usual impatience. “Of course not.”
I pressed the issue. “Daddy, when God calls a believer home, He sends His angels to bring them to the other side.”
“Well, I’m just standin’ here waitin’ and a wavin’,” he said, then refused to listen to another word on the subject.
Two days later that dreaded call came and I sped toward the nursing facility.
“Not yet, Lord please—not yet.”
I crept into his room and sat rigid and motionless in that universal plastic covered hospital chair. My eyes shifted from his frail form to those troublesome monitors beeping irreverent sounds.
Daddy lapsed into unconsciousness before I arrived so there were no goodbyes. My mind swirled from loneliness to fear as I sat helpless—watching him slip from this life—nothing to do but wait in that place where time becomes meaningless and death is a breath away.
A slight rustling brought me back to reality. Daddy rolled from his side to his back. His arm shot from beneath the covers. With eyes still closed, an ear-to-ear grin enveloped his face. He waved and waved—then he was gone.
Numbness shrouded my heart and mind. Nurses and medical personnel rushed in and out of the room, asking questions, giving instructions. It was over. And it took every ounce of strength to finally walk out of that room, to my car, and drive out of the parking lot. God had given me no answer. Dark waves of anguish and grief swelled then crashed over my conflicted soul.
A traffic light ahead changed to red and I slammed on brakes with Daddy’s words echoing in my ears, “I’m just standin’ here, waitin’ and a wavin’.”
God had answered my prayer—I hadn’t been listening! Sweet peace and joy flooded my soul. Tears of relief and release washed away the anguish and God’s understanding comforted my grieving heart. His angels came. At their appointed time. Daddy’s waitin’ over, they carried him smilin’ and wavin’ into the presence of his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!
“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16
MOVING THE ANCIENT BOUNDARIES 