Remembering the Future

On Friday November 13th, my Father passed away. He died at home and I was with him; I watched him go. It's so odd that it even happened. Even now as I write these words it still seems surreal. It doesn't feel right, in fact it feels all wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this; he was only 65. There should have been something we could do, but it just happened so fast. Well, no actually it was slow, but it seemed fast. One minute he was there, the next he wasn't. It's so weird that he should not be here. He was my Dad, he was supposed to be here. He was supposed to be papaw to my children, to Mia. He wanted to be papaw. But it's over, it's done with and I know she won't remember him and that makes me sad. Regardless, she needs to know! She needs to know about the man who was my father... But she won't get it, she won't understand, not really. The world has changed and now everything is different.

Now what?

I once read somewhere that, "Nothing hurts worse than remembering the future, especially a future we can never have."

I had ideas and dreams for my family, how life would be, things we would do. I pictured Christmas mornings at my parents house with my Dad singing some obscure song I have never heard before in the kitchen while cooking up one of his famous big country breakfasts that included everything from biscuits and sausage gravy to fried chicken and spam... You see, my Dad used to sing... and he used to cook.

But I know that Christmas won't happen... ever.

Last night in youth group we talked about things that get your attention. We looked up Matthew 4:18-20, where Matthew describes the calling of Peter and Andrew.

"As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him."

This passage of Scripture has always bothered me because I never really understood why they got up and left. How could they just leave? The Bible tells us that there was nothing special about Jesus' appearance that would have drawn them to him, so why did they leave, what got there attention? Didn't they have their own ideas? Didn't they have hopes, dreams, and responsibilities? Why would they abandon their own ideas of life and hang their future on "Come Follow me"?

I wonder... would I have left? Would you? What would it take to get my attention; what would it take to get yours? Would I surrender my future to Christ with a simple "Come follow me"? Or would it take something infinitely more life-altering to wake me up and get me moving?

I know in my head and truly believe in my heart that everything, EVERYTHING Jesus does (or allows to happen) is inevitably an act of love, designed for my own good to bring me into a deeper relationship with Him to enable me to carry out His purposes... Because He loves me. How do I reconcile that with my Dad dying?

My future has changed, my Father is in Heaven, Jesus has gotten my attention...

I'm Listening.
It's time to get moving.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purposes" - Romans 8:28