I don’t know if my dad’s in heaven.
I wish I did, but I don’t. He passed from this life 30 years ago this March. He was alone, without family or friends, until the very end. The hospital did manage to find a brother, my uncle, but by then it was too late. The family was notified and his body was buried, eventually, in the family plot in Waldo, Wisconsin.
I found out about his death three months after he passed.
I was devastated.
I barely knew my dad. Just a few precious childhood memories, and nothing more. But I loved him. I prayed for reconciliation, for simply finding him, but I was too late.
Due to my parent’s divorcing when I was a baby, and my mom’s refusal to talk about him, I didn’t even know I had a dad until one day when I was about six years old, he appeared at our house. Then, the next few years were spent with summer trips to the mountains, staying at his house, surprise visits and Christmas mornings waking up to find him sleeping on the couch.
And then one day, he disappeared from my life as suddenly as he had entered it. There were no goodbyes, no forwarding address, no explanations. I was 12 the last time I saw him.
Why am I telling you this now?
Simply because this isn’t an uplifting Father’s Day message, and I struggled to get the words on the paper until now. The past isn’t always fun to remember, but sometimes it’s necessary to do so, because…
Sometimes we have a crappy childhood.
Sometimes the people in our lives, who should be there, aren’t.
Sometimes life stinks.
But here’s the thing, we don’t have to embrace the stink.
Jesus said, in Matthew 11:30…”Come unto me, all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
Rest.
Rest from our past.
Rest from the baggage of what someone did, or didn’t do, in our lives.
Rest from every pain, every sorrow, every hurt.
Rest.
In one unselfish act Jesus secured our rest. His death gave us peace. His resurrection gives us hope.
And all we have to do is come to Him.
We don’t have to embrace the stink in our lives, because Jesus already did.