Sometimes I forget.
I don't mean to be self-absorbed. I don't want to be the spoiled child who overlooks everything her father does for her, simply because she's too preoccupied with what she wants, the way she thinks things should be. But, I'm ashamed to admit, sometimes I am that child. Because I forget.
It's easy to focus on how much I miss my dad and forget to be grateful that God gave me 38 years with a pretty amazing dad. A dad who would gladly stay home to play with us rather than going out for the evening. Who spent more time teaching than scolding. Who never caused us to doubt his love or wonder if he was proud of us. Whose example spoke louder than his words.
I get so wrapped up in my own hurt that I forget there are people who would have given anything to have a dad who taught them about Christ or spoke kind words to them. Truth is, the hole that has been left in my life is only felt because he was all those things to me. And I wouldn't trade that for any number of extra years with him here on this earth.
Sometimes I forget.
I'll be honest, I'm not much of a social butterfly. I'm not at all comfortable in large crowds, especially when I'm required to make small-talk with people I don't know. And let's face it, life moves along at a pretty fast pace. So when I have a few moments free of plans, calling someone up with a simple, "Hey, let's grab coffee" is usually the farthest thing from my mind. I am sorry to say, even those people I consider my friends are sometimes neglected. Because I forget.
I forget how much we need each other. But today at church, a sweet friend put her arm around me and told me how sorry she was that I was missing my dad so much. She reminded me how blessed I am because of the relationship I had with my dad. I didn't even realize how much I needed that until she took the time to love me as a sister in Christ.
Oh, why do I forget these things?
And then I stood on the stage and sang the words, "This is my prayer in the desert, when all that's within me feels dry... I will bring praise, I will bring praise! No weapon formed against me shall remain. I will rejoice, I will declare God is my victory and He is here."
I spent a year living in a little town called Eloy, Arizona, right in the middle of the Sonora Desert. It is hot. It is dry. There are rattlesnakes. Having been back in Michigan for a couple of years, it's easy to forget what the desert feels like. And yet sometimes that's exactly how I feel, deep down inside. It's so hot and so dry that all the life has gone out of me, and there are venomous snakes threatening to attack from all sides. And the truth of this song is, I have to choose to give God praise in those moments. Instead of being that self-absorbed child, throwing a temper tantrum and begging Him to do things my way, I choose to bring praise. Even when I don't understand. Because I don't have to understand. I just have to trust. Because He is right here with me in this hot, dry place, and He will be my victory over the enemy's attacks.
Psalm 103:1-5
1 Praise the Lord, my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the Lord, my soul,
and forget not all his benefits—
3 who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,
4 who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
5 who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
