Sunday, June 15, 2025

Finding Strength Under the Broom Tree

The year 2024 was the year I felt like I lost my faith.  I felt like I was constantly and relentlessly buffeted by the enemy.  The definition of buffet: “to knock someone off course” or “to afflict or harm someone repeatedly over a long period of time”. Yes, the struggle was real, and the more I got knocked down, the harder it was for me to get back up, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  The days turned to weeks, the weeks turned to months, and constantly I cried out to the Lord “how much more can I take? I can’t do this anymore!”

It started late 2023, when it felt like overnight, my father’s health declined.  My father, a strong, robust, fiercely independent 86-year old man, was always sharp as a tack, telling me family stories, history and details up to that point. He had some kind of supernatural memory for remembering the birthdates of every family member and friend.  When I saw him in September, he was the same as he’d always been, even driving me and his lady friend to IHOP for lunch.  So I was surprised and concerned a few weeks later when he seemed disoriented and confused and not remembering things like he used to. When I questioned him, he was adamant the he was fine, and said he was just tired and to not worry about him.  It annoyed my father that I always worried about him, and he always complained that I was a big worrier like my mother.  His health continued to decline and a few weeks later, my sister took him to the ER, where he was admitted.  He would never go back to live in his home again.

I immediately made plans to drive out to see him, making arrangements with my boss, because I had no idea of how long I would be out of town. Some wonderful friends graciously allowed me to stay with them so I could be there for my dad. When I arrived at the hospital, my dad was very surprised and happy to see me. But I could definitely see that there was a change in his health and cognitive state; he wasn’t the same strong Daddy that I knew anymore. My role suddenly shifted from being the passive and obedient daughter, to being the one in charge, making decisions on my father’s behalf.  My father spent two weeks in the hospital while I continued to advocate for him.  I had to question doctors, facing opposition and being dismissed when bringing concerns to their attention.  Then one day the hospital told me he needed to be put in a “rehab center” because they would no longer care for him and I had until the end of the day to pick a facility from a list of three they gave me. My father had been happy and pleasant while in the hospital, but after he was transferred to the nursing home, his mental state became angry and combative.  Again, the health professionals would not listen to our concerns and were dismissive and would not do anything to help.  I felt like I was talking to a brick wall.  By this time I was mentally exhausted and so I decided to go back home so that I could return to work for a few days to ensure that my job was still secure and to also get some rest, knowing that my siblings were there to help and that my father would be safe in the nursing home until I could return in a couple of weeks. I had no idea that that would be the last time I would see my Daddy. Had I known, I would have stayed longer. These are the feelings of guilt that I still carry with me.

Monitoring my father from afar, he continued to exhibit anger and was not reasonable. He accused me of putting him in “jail” and was very angry with me. He called people to help him “escape” and was offering them money and assets if they would help him.  Eventually, someone took him out of the nursing home late one night; he was released against medical advice and without our consent or knowledge.  For a few days, I had no idea where my father was. I contacted the police department and they refused to do a wellness check.   A few days later, I got a call from someone stating that my father had called them to pick him up at an airport in Georgia.  I was flabbergasted. My father could not walk, he was on oxygen, he was in no shape to travel, and how he was allowed him on the airplane is beyond me.  Then later, I get a call that they found my father unresponsive on the floor in the hotel room, and was taken by ambulance to a hospital.  I found out that the person who took him out of the nursing home had put him on the airplane and had only packed him four diapers, his phone charger, and the clothes on his back; they didn’t even give him a jacket in the middle of winter. 

While I was trying to find a way to take control of the situation, seeking legal and medical advice, and finding ways to get him back home, my father’s health deteriorated rapidly.  I had to make a very hard decision and he passed away alone, over 2000 miles away from his children. I then had to start making funeral arrangements for my father. There is something surreal when the role of parent and child are reversed, and the child is faced making some of the most difficult decisions in life.

Unfortunately, as with many families, after death, the real drama begins. Dealing with an estate is often rife with problems, and my situation was no different. The appearance of bad actors, insurmountable legal fees, and one obstacle after another, I got to a breaking point and I didn’t think I would survive.  I was very overwhelmed and discouraged and felt like Elijah so many times, just asking God to take my life ( 1 Kings 19:4). I didn’t have it in me to go to ladies bible study anymore.  I felt my faith was slipping away. I felt like my husband wasn’t really grasping the pain and stress and injustice that I was enduring.  I couldn’t even grieve the loss of my father properly. I felt that God wasn’t listening to me, that He wasn’t hearing my prayers and cries. I felt that I was all alone. But I wasn’t.

My daughter gave me an inspirational desk plaque on resilience for my birthday this year.  After reading the description and pausing to reflect, everything from the past year came rushing to my mind. Now that I am on the other side, I was able to look back and see that I did survive. And it wasn’t by anything that I did. It was all God. He had walked with me, holding my hand the entire time. In my bible reading this week, the broom tree was mentioned. My inquisitive mind wanted to know what it was and why a seemingly insignificant tree would be mentioned in the bible. I found that the broom tree is a small shade tree or shrub with slender branches and small leaves indigenous to the Middle East and Mediterranean.   Elijah used the broom tree for shelter and safe haven when he fled for his life after Jezebel threatened to kill him, and it is where he asked the Lord to take his life.  While here, an angel appeared to Elijah twice, bringing him food and water as he rested and gained strength. (1 Kings 1-7). The broom tree is also mentioned in the story of Hagar and Ishmael, after they were sent away by Abraham. After wandering in the desert and running out of water, Hagar thought Ishmael was going to die, and she placed him under a broom tree, while she went away to cry in anguish. God heard her cries and He directed Hagar to a well, thus providing for her and Ishmael’s needs and preserving their lives (Genesis 21:8-21).  In both of these stories, God showed His faithfulness in providing comfort, strength, spiritual and physical nourishment, protection from the heat, and rest.  This tree or bush only grows to about 6 to 8 feet, but the Lord used it to provide abundantly for their needs.

Looking back, I see now that God provided a broom tree for me; He had his hand in my circumstances every step of the way.  He provided many broom tree moments for me.  The Lord allowed me to have the honor of serving my father in his last few weeks of his life. I was able to be his champion when so many failed him; I fought for him, honoring him in life and in death.  The Lord allowed me the wonderful experience of being able to feed my father when he could no longer do it for himself. The Lord allowed me to get some final memories of my dad that I will cherish and hold dear the rest of my life. The Lord allowed me the privilege to pray over my father. The Lord allowed me the chance to ask my father if he knew and believed in Jesus. Several times my father would not give me answer, but finally one day, my father said yes.  The Lord provided a very kind social worker who arranged for me to talk to my dad on speaker phone during his final hours of earth.  Even though my dad was no longer conscious, the social worker said my father’s eyes twitched and his breathing changed when he heard my voice. This gave me tremendous comfort knowing that even though I couldn’t be there physically, I could tell my Daddy that I loved him one last time and he heard me.    The Lord gave me a wonderful husband to minister to me, encourage me, pray for me, love on me, and assist me. I recently read somewhere that your spouse will be the one who will sit beside you when your parents die, and this is so true. My husband was my anchor for me, even when I felt that he didn’t’ understand me enough.  The Lord allowed for me and my younger brother to be close again, something that had been missing for many years. The Lord provided a pastor to pray for me and comfort me when I was experiencing great guilt for not being able to do more for my father.  The Lord provided me comfort with the Grief Share group at church and the ladies bible study group. The Lord gave me strength with songs He gave me at the right moment. One of my victory anthems was Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns. I would sing this song at the top of my lungs in the morning to arm myself for the day’s new battle. One of the best broom tree moments came from an unexpected source.  At my dad’s funeral service, an elderly man came up to me and told me he was a good friend and former co-worker of my father.  Well God used this wonderful and Godly man in a very powerful way in my life numerous times, during the toughest days.  The first time was after I arrived back in my home state after my father’s service.  . The chaos and busyness that had been my life for the previous 2 months had suddenly stopped and it finally hit me that my dad was gone. In the quiet, I found myself grieving very hard and I needed to talk to someone. Someone who knew my dad and all that he was. So I called up this gentleman and just started crying to him about my dad. He was so comforting and understanding towards me. He shared some great stories about my dad, and he told me about the many times he would talk to my dad about Jesus.  I was able to laugh and cry and be blessed by the wisdom and godly advice this gentleman gave me. And from that point on, God used him at just the right time. Whenever I was feeling defeated or angry or discouraged or needed some extra strength, I would get a text, a bible verse, a phone call at just the right time. He would pray over me, give me scriptures and Godly wisdom.  I felt like God had provided me a surrogate father figure to help me grieve the loss of my Daddy. And since he was also grieving the loss of his friend, he felt it his duty to look after his friend’s daughter. No doubt my dad had told him that I was the biggest worrier of his children and that I would be affected the most after he passed, because I definitely was a daddy’s girl.

In those moments that I thought that God wasn’t hearing my cries and prayers, He was actually preparing and providing my broom tree.  He did it faithfully and wonderfully.  I have come out stronger, not by my might, but because of the Lord, who is living in me. “Greater is he that is in me, than he that is in the world” (1 John 4:4). God used my dark and difficult moments to make me more dependent on Him, thus strengthening my faith. What I thought was my faith decreasing, it was actually increasing, because now, I see how God’s hand was in everything, and I cling even tighter to Him.  The broom tree can represent   a point of despair in one’s life, when someone has come to the end of themselves, fully depleted of strength, faith, and peace. . But the broom tree also becomes the place where God provides everything you need for that moment. It is the place where He gives you the strength or rest to get you from one place or hour or trial to the next.  Today is Father’s Day. As I reflect and remember my sweet, amazing Daddy, I thank the Lord for allowing me the opportunity to honor him. But I especially want to give honor and glory and praise to the ultimate father, my Heavenly Father, who has watched over me, protected me, guided me and provided for me all the days of my life.

"O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy endures forever." - Psalm 107:1

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