Farewell to Dad ... for Now

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:13-16

In other words, none of us just happened. We came into this world, having been put together by God to make a difference in the lives of others and to make a difference for God. It’s amazing the different elements God uses to put us together in our mother’s womb. Put us together for a purpose, to impact those around us. 
My dad was one of the most caring and loving people I have ever known. Not only was he a wonderful father, but he was also a loving, devoted and faithful husband to my mother, Jean Tice.

 He loved my mama, her mama and her sisters. He especially loved Alice's only child, Dawn Renee. And he loved my children.

My first husband drowned when I was 20. Our babies were left father-less. Camille was 27 months old and Wesley a mere 6 months old. My dad made a vow to be their father.  He fulfilled that vow.

He loved the beach, watermelon on hot summer afternoons, animals of all kinds, and creating useful wood projects. And he loved trying to make his tenor voice sound like the rich baritones of George Beverly Shea as he tried to sing “How Great Thou Art!”

His daddy, William Albert Stone, was a farmer and part-time Baptist Minister. His mother, Clara Ethel Watwood was a full-time mother to nine children, 7 girls and 2 boys. And raising such a large family was not an easy task at anytime much less during the years just preceding and following the Great Depression.

Daddy was raised with an undying love for God and a strong respect for women. When born, he already had 6 elder sisters. He married into a family of girls, with only a mother-in-law as their daddy has passed when they were young children, and he had many more nieces than nephews. But male or female, he had true love for others and respect for all. Even during his final days, when his speech became severely inhibited by dementia, he would often still say clearly, “God Bless you,” addressed all as “Ma’am” or “Sir.”

We all have our memories of this man who was named, William Wesley Stone. He answered to Wesley, Bill and Rocky....but later in life confessed that he would answer to “Mud” should someone call him that.   My memories span almost 60 years, though I admit that I recall little from those first couple of years. He had a true servant’s heart. No matter where he worked or what job he did, he possessed a strong work ethic. He was friend to many, striving his best always to be of help to others, whether in the course of earning a paycheck or lending an ever-willing hand to one in need.

He was truly humble and took no pleasure in “putting on the dog” (– an idiom he used to me on rare occasions).

You all have your memories, precious memories of the one God placed in our lives to be a blessing.

When you stop to think about the word NEW, what does it mean? When you get down to it, it really implies something better.

Today we say goodbye, at least for now, to a very special gentleman. And he was a gentleman in every sense of the word.  Today, as we stop to remember my dad and all those things that made him special, we have to add one more word to that list- "NEW". For today Daddy has a lot of "NEW" things, including a perfect, body fashioned in the image and likeness of Jesus himself. A body he can use to enjoy all the splendors of that place called heaven.

I’m always amazed how Scripture is so realistic. It contains words and actions, which express the whole range of human emotions, and in some ways the book of Psalms is a composite of the Bible.

The 150th Psalm is a closing song of Praise. After 149 songs that speak of the human existence, of pain and joy, sorrow and celebration, the psalmist closes with a simple song of praise

“Let everything that has breath praise the Lord”

And that is what I would say here today. “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord”

Those who wrote the psalms were very human, and they knew what it was to feel strong emotion, They cry in pain, they shout with Joy, in all of life they see reason to praise God

We too, just like the psalmist of long ago, know emotions. Today, we celebrate the life of one who was loved by many and who loved many.

But also with this celebration are feelings of sadness and loss, and in this we can lean on God, who will be our stronghold during times of trial. It is during seasons of life just like this that we realize that life as we know it, is uncertain 

None of us is guaranteed tomorrow, or even the rest of today for that matter.

The bible often pictures the uncertainty of life, we read in James 4:14

“you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” 

The very uncertainty of life causes us to consider its approaching end, but even with life’s uncertainties God has made victory possible, and what a celebration that is!

Today we can find comfort in the fact that Jesus has power over the grave, power over death!

We read in the gospel of Luke how He raised the widow’s son and Jairus’ daughter…  what a celebration that was!

We read in John 11 how He came upon the tomb of His friend Lazarus, and how he wept at the death of his friend, and how he brought him back to life… oh what a celebration that was!

Jesus even overcame death in His own resurrection… and THAT’s a celebration for us!

Today as we celebrate my dad's life with us, and how he touched our lives, we can look forward to the day when death will finally be destroyed!

In 2nd Corinthians 5:11 we read

"If any person be in Christ, they are a new creation; old things are passed away, behold all things are become new."

This is a perfect picture of what happened to my dad, Because this past Sunday morning, about 6:25, the old things passed away and behold, all things indeed became new for him!

And we read in Isaiah 46:4

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am HE, I am HE who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”

He sustained my dad. He carried him. And NOW has called him home; PRAISE GOD!! His promise is the same for us.

God’s promises are overwhelming, from the rainbow in the sky, to the salvation He offers, to the promise of His everlasting presence with us.
We remember and celebrate, and praise God for this man who touched our lives in so many different ways.

We Have Gathered Together In This Place, Not Because Daddy has passed away, But Because he Lived....and he lived a Godly life…and He has Graduated!

The Tail of the Whale

I had a dream the other night. Scenes of partial pictures. One I recall was of half a face. Another was of a table that was adorned with table cloth, set with empty plates, silverware, clean napkins, empty glasses. And still another was included -- half of the front of a house. At first glance I didn't realize anything was missing. But my mind did wonder at what I was being shown.

I kept hearing a voice say, "Do you want to see the Complete Picture or are these enough for you?" 

I didn't understand. Was what I was seeing, what I was being shown only part of what I needed to see?

I hadn't been curious before, but suddenly, with the prospect dangled in front of me that there was more, I suddenly wanted to see it.

The curtain was drawn back on each scene. The face was completed. Seemed to be a rugged male face with beard and unkept long hair. I didn't recognize him. Could have been any number of people. Could have been a man at a rock concert from back in the 1970s. Could have been Jesus. I don't know. There wasn't an explanation. Seemed that I gazed at the face for a long time trying to find meaning, familiarity.  

Next was the table. Where only empty plates had been set on a white tablecloth, the scene was expanded to reveal many dishes laden with various foods, scrumptious and inviting. Again, I studied the exhibit, searching for hidden meaning. Some of the platters were hot as there was steam rising. I don't recall what foods there were, but they appeared yummy. However, my appetite was not aroused.

Eventually, the table was replaced by the house. It was a rather small house. Nothing particularly notable. It was just the entire house that was placed on view. Seemed older -- maybe early 1900's, frame-style, wooden foundation with crawl space underneath....though that wasn't specifically revealed. I could tell by the steps up to the front door that it had this kind of construction. I examined it for some time. Like all the other pictures, this house did not look familiar to me. Nothing I had seen in my past that I could recall. Could have been in any town, USA. 

I awoke and was troubled. Troubled because none of it made sense to me.The voice still echoed  "Do you want to see the Complete Picture?" Having seen and studied the complete pictures of each scene, I found nothing remarkable, nothing outstanding. Actually, they were boring. There was nothing curious at all. All that was curious was that I was being shown them and asked the question.

Drifting off to sleep again, I revisited each of the 3 scenes once more as the visions returned. First, the partial pictures and then the completed scenes. And then each expanded. The man was shirtless, bronzed, wearing jeans, barefooted. His body appeared to be turning, as if he was just looking back over his shoulder. He suddenly had purpose. I didn't know his purpose, but being shown this picture caused me to seriously wonder. 

The table lavishly set with foods expanded to reveal guests....and an exceedingly long table. People of all ages were gathering. They were happy, greeting each other with hugs. It seemed to be a large family gathering, a reunion of sorts.Seemed to be much love in this warm and inviting atmosphere.

The house expanded to reveal a lot with lush green grass. Soft grass that had some length to it, though not too high. Reminded me of Kentucky blue grass -- soft and cool to the bare foot. There were beautiful blooming flowers, too, but not so much uniform in the planting -- more naturally spaced. And a very large shade tree in the front. Could have been a ficus, could have been an oak. This scene was suddenly cool, friendly, relaxing, inviting, peaceful.

I woke again. There was a sermon on the radio. It was John D. McArthur. He was teaching on Jesus calming the storm. I'm not sure which storm he was referring to, whether it was when He had fallen asleep in the boat and the storm arose as they crossed the Sea of Galilee, or if the subject was when the storm happened as the disciples were alone at night crossing the Sea of Galilee, when Jesus came walking across the sea towards them. Either way, McArthur referenced Jonah.

This will be the second week that our Sunday morning Bible Study has been on Jonah. To be totally truthful, I hadn't actually looked for anything extra in these Scriptures. Was a story we all know. Looked more at the history of Nineveh, where Jonah was from, where Tarshish was thought to be. Things like that. And yet, after my lengthy dream about seeing the Complete Picture, awakening to a sermon that is referencing Jonah, I decided this was something I needed to hear. 

Right off the bat  McArthur notes all three events have 1 major thing in common -- when the storm was commanded to cease, it ceased right then.  The instant Jonah hit the water, the storm ceased right then. We observe that when a body of water is troubled by high winds, it takes some time for the waves to calm down. But not in these cases. That was what caused seasoned mariners to be awestruck and fearful. We have seen furious winds cease abruptly. But I have never witnessed waves cease abruptly. Science tells us that doesn't happen. The energy continues until it is used up.

In consideration of the Book of Jonah, I needed to return to scripture, to search out the Complete Picture. I may not see it all. It may take a while. But there is more here than just a simple rendition of Jonah and the Whale.

Transcending the Tail

I went to visit my dad today. For those of you who don't know, he is in an Alzheimer's facility. What a horrible, horrible disease.

No, he didn't know me today. He immediately asked me who I was when I woke him from his nap in a living room chair. He began speaking in nonsensical moans and groans. I call this “Daddy-speak” cuz the language is unknown. I have learned not to question or to try to understand him, not to try to get him to repeat himself in words that are intelligible to me. Why? That causes him deep anxiety because apparently he thinks he is speaking in a recognizable manner. Apparently, he understands himself. I have learned to make nothing replies like “Oh. Okay. Really?” and so forth. I watch his face for any sign of alarm and if that is noted, I say, “I'm sorry.” Sometimes I say simply, “I love you, Daddy.” Sometimes he understands that. Other times, he doesn't. I have come to realize that sometimes my words don't mean to him what Mr. Webster defined them as – just like the language he utilizes. This is something none of the books tell you. I have found no blogs that discuss it.

Today, I interrupted his garble by giving him a birthday card from his sister, Thelma. He said lots that I could understand, “Nice. Bless.” I attempted to read it to him, but he closed it. I opened it again and tried to rush thru the rest of what she had hand-written, but he closed the card again and gave it back to me, saying a lot of things including one “Thank you” that was distinguishable.

Next, I gave him his birthday card from his brother, Grady. He doesn't know how to open an envelope any more so I did it for him and handed him his card. He doesn't read. I told him it was funny and started to read it to him, but like before with his sister's card, he opened it to the inside. Before I could finish the joke, much less read what my uncle had written, he closed the card again. I did manage to take a couple of pictures of him with his cards. But then, I realized he had fallen asleep while looking at them. My uncle had included a photo of the 3 of them -- Grady, Thelma and my dad. I took a picture of it with my cell phone. My dad roused pretty soon after that. So I tried to direct his attention towards the picture and explained the people in it and when it was taken – October 2001.

We had flown together, just he and I, out to his home town in Arkansas. Shortly following 9/11, it was a trip I would never forget and not for that reason only, but because my mother had passed April 1 of that year. This was the only trip my dad and I had ever gone on together, just the two of us.

Back in the present, he had fallen asleep again, but he was holding the picture on top of his cards. I was attempting to upload my picture of him with his cards onto Facebook when he awoke and abruptly sprung from his chair and headed for the door to the outside. I bolted after him catching him at the door. I took the cards and the photo from his hands. He didn't seem to like that. Said stuff in his special language, but his face showed concern, maybe distrust, definitely displeasure. I told him I would hold them while he was gone and that I would be right there when he returned. Don't know if what I said was understood, or if his attention was just diverted by the bright light beckoning him outdoors and that instinct, that addiction he seems to have that causes him to walk much of the time.

I placed his cards in the glass wall case outside his bedroom door. His room was neat and clean today. I took the picture Grady had sent and placed in a frame on his dresser. Maybe he will look at it some more? Maybe he will remember? Maybe it will lend him some inner peace? Maybe it will cause the anxiety and turmoil that descends on him in later hours of the day to vanish, if only momentarily? I placed the bag of his favorite candies – the butterscotch and the peppermints -- in his top drawer. I know he will find them. As the day wears on, he becomes very concerned about “his stuff,” churning through drawers continually looking for only he knows what. Today he will find a surprise, a treasure!

I left his room with door open – the way I found it, and proceeded back towards the living room. He is now sitting in the dining room at a table with 2 others. He looks at peace, without his teeth. He glances casually at me and I wave to him, but he looks away. He doesn't know me again. I guess I don't even look familiar to him.

And so I continue on down the hallway that leads to the outside door. I almost want to run, like running could cause the awfulness of my father's condition to suddenly evaporate....like Superman did when Lois Lane died and he flew fast around the globe several times turning back time. But I don't run. I don't look back.