Last week officially put me in the "late 30's" category. Thirty-seven still kind of felt like it could continue to belong in the "mid-30's" category, but thirty-eight? It's definitely closer to forty than to thirty-five. Truth is, getting older doesn't really bother me. To me it just underlines the fact that I am still here.
Life, I believe, can taste a little different to those of us who know how fragile it is. To those of us who have lost loved ones, we are left to face that absence each day. I'm not saying that we are a sordid mess everyday, but we are aware of their absence on this side of eternity. As much as we can envision them in a Heavenly place where God's presence makes all the wrongs right, we still miss doing life with them.
I'll always miss my Daddy.
When I think of how my life could've ended along with his 22 years ago, it makes me pretty emotional. Yet, it brings me back to that point of being so grateful that God wasn't done with writing my story when I was sixteen. A small distraction on our bodyguard's part lead to him driving my Dad and I a few meters ahead of the street where my Dad needed to be dropped off. The oncoming traffic made it a bit tricky for us to just backup into the street and take him to his destination. My Dad had insisted on walking the rest of the way which was literally only a few meters up a street. We took off to Carman's "Who's in the House" song blaring so loudly, we didn't even hear the gunshots that took my father's life a few seconds after. We only found out later that he had been killed once we came back to pick him up from his meeting. That's a story on its on.
Had we left him at the entrance of that venue as was the original intention, those two hit man on that motorcycle that had been waiting for him would have most likely killed the driver/bodyguard and finished me off as well. Leaving witnesses would've been unlikely in our neck of the woods.
I had to wrestle with all the anomalies that took place that put us (the driver and I) out of harms way. I remember having a moment of crisis 3 years later in Idaho where I was studying at the time. One night I took my host family's dog for a walk as I was full of emotions and not even knowing how to verbalize them, but there in some random dark field I collapsed on my knees crying. I felt completely broken. Why me? Why did he die and I didn't? Why did you spare me? I remember thinking why had God not taken me instead him. His life seemed so significant in every way and mine, not as much. I remember looking up and seeing the moon, so big and bright and I felt such a sense of purpose right then and there. It was like God spoke to my heart such a sense of purpose while underlining the reality of the life that was ahead of me. My story would go on. It wasn't meant to end with my Dad's passing.
So on days like these when I have moments to think about how much has happened since, I am just overwhelmed with gratitude. That,
He would allow me to find a courage I never thought I would have needed.
That He would allow me to experience His comfort in a whole other level as He revealed Himself as my ABBA.
That everywhere I went in the world He had people who opened up their hearts and homes to me, enlarging my sense of family.
That He would let me see the fruits of my Dad's sacrifice and witness how many were inspired and blessed by our story and also see how our story had become a part of so many other stories.
That He would lead to me cross paths with a Canadian who would later become my best friend, win my heart and 5 years later become my husband.
That He would allow me to experience the growth that comes from being married and all those big slices of "humble pie" I've had to scarf down for my own good.
That He would let me experience that explosion of love that I felt when I became a mother. And then how beautifully wrecked He's allowed me to become by letting me see how much I desperately need Him to be the kind of mom my three little boys need.
That He would allow me to start from scratch by taking me out of Colombia and all that I knew and brought me here to Fort St. John, a town on the Alaska highway that has found such a special place in my heart.
That He would breathe life over new friendships and refresh old ones, teaching me how to be a better friend.
That He would show me His love by not letting me stay in my comfort zone nor stuck in my own ways or opinions.
That He would reveal more of Himself outside of ministry, conferences,and volunteering and help me encounter Him in the trenches of motherhood and homemaking. And. Just. Doing. LIFE. Here's where it has really gotten real for me in a whole new level and I'm getting better at recognizing Him in the midst of the messiness and craziness of it all.
Turning thirty eight this year just underlines this amazing journey I have been on with Him. He still baffles me and inspires me in every way. I can only look forward to a future in which He will continue to truly be the "leading role" in my story. In our story. I'll always be so grateful and humbled that I don't only get to live out an amazing legacy but I get to pass it on, contribute to it and I get to see how that legacy find its own expression in the lives of my boys.
Here's to 38....and more.