Deep Roots and Daddy’s Faith

by Robin Gray

My Dad had a heart attack last week.  He started having chest pain about eight p.m. on a Monday night, the same day that we buried my uncle. 

I’d just spent several days watching my cousin say a final goodbye to her Dad, who also played an important role in my life.  The awareness of how fragile and precious life is was still fresh in my mind and on my heart when I got the call that my father was in the emergency room of our local hospital. 

“Maybe it’s reflux,” I thought.  But I knew it wasn’t.  One look at the fear in his eyes told me that he knew it wasn’t, too.

Deep roots and a father’s love…

More than any other person, my Dad has given deep rich roots to the tree of my faith since the day I was born.  He cultivated it with teaching, pruned it with discipline, and watered it with love. 

Daddy never stood in a pulpit.  He and Mama divorced when I was eleven, and, good Baptist that he is, he accepted that he would never be a deacon or serve in any prestigious capacity in the church.  So he invested all of his passion and wisdom into teaching Sunday School and leading the church choir.  He lives a quiet life of patient unwavering devotion to God in both word and deed.  And if he is known for anything in our little town, it’s his humility, goodness, sense of humor, and genuine love for God and others.

But not many people know that my Dad’s faith and his relationship with Jesus has been forged in the fire of loss, grief and disappointment. Daddy believed in a God who would move mountains, heal the sick and raise the dead. He found instead a gentle Comforter at the bedside of a child who would never laugh or smile, ride a bike or hold his hand. Daddy wanted God to heal him, but healing did not come this side of heaven.

And then there was the entire chaotic rollercoaster of having to deal with me. I have probably given my Dad some of his greatest challenges.  My life lessons were generally learned through making mistakes, and some of them were doozies.  But I learned first-hand about the love of God my Father because I had a Daddy who always loved me with that redemptive, unwavering, unchanging love.

Science, fact, and Daddy’s faith…

I work in the medical field and I’m a firm believer in science and fact.  I like to know what we are dealing with so we can have a goal and a plan of action.  But I’m also a person of faith and a firm believer in a merciful, loving, and ever-present God.  I haven’t seen any mountains move in these past two weeks, but I’ve certainly seen a series of events align perfectly that have saved my Daddy’s life.

It’s more than chance.  It’s even more than good medical practice. 

It’s faith.

It’s three a.m. faith.  It’s the kind of faith that stills you, heals you, and holds you when you don’t know what tomorrow may bring. 

It’s my father’s faith, buried down deep in the soil of who I am… 

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
    I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”  (Isaiah 41:10)