Good in our Future

Today I have been meditating on the scripture Romans 8:28, “All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (NKJV). I have heard that scripture quoted many times over the years, and yet when I was walking through “the valley of the shadow of death” experience the moment that I found out my mom had passed away, those words sounded very hollow to me. I remember crying out to God the day she died and asking the proverbial question, “why”?

How could taking the only source of love in my short broken life work together for my good? I was saved, and I loved God to the best of my young ability. I tried to keep the Ten Commandments and ask for forgiveness for all the ones I broke, which were several and often. I remember being so angry with God for so long that it led to self-destructive thinking for all of my teenaged years and well into my 20’s, that is, until I met a person who would change my life forever. There was good in my future…more about this later.

I want you to know that just because you walk through that valley or in some cases camp out there for a while like I did, that does not mean you have to take up permanent residence there. Let me leave you with this thought. Soon after my mom died suddenly of a heart attack, the Girl Scout annual mother-daughter banquet was to be held. Many of the moms of the girls in the troop I belonged to offered to allow me to go with them as their daughter, however, that just seemed sad and strange, so I declined.

As I previously stated, I have six older siblings, four of whom are sisters. My father could have sent me with one of my older sisters, but he did not. He chose instead to take me himself. I was shocked that he would do this for me, since I was not sure he even liked me, much less wanted to suffer the embarrassment of escorting me to a dinner with a room full of women and little girls. But there he was, all dressed up in the only suit he owned, sitting right next to me. He was the only father there and was proud to be so. I had never seen this side of him. He had always been so cold and aloof that I was afraid of him, until that night.

God gave me a gift that night that I might not otherwise have been able to appreciate, that even in my father’s brokenness and his own sadness at the loss of his wife, he chose to put my feelings first. I have cataloged that night as one of my best memories with my father during my childhood. I told him so in a tribute that I wrote and gave him on Father’s Day two years before he passed away. He wept and so did I.

Remember friend, camping is better done on the mountaintop. It has a better view than the valley. Until next time.