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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