Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Proverbs~Quiet From Fear of Evil

Me and Dad at the only book signing of mine he was able to attend

Two months ago, my dad was put on Hospice. Dad died on April 5. His funeral was April 12. You may read Dad's obituary.

I miss my dad.

Proverbs 1:33 says, "But whoso hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from fear of evil."

This verse has proven true over the last days after Dad passed away. I sense a quiet in my spirit. A quiet that proves I did my best to reach out to Dad and love him even though we saw life a bit differently. A quiet that also proved he did his best to love his stubborn first-born.

During the Hospice period, we talked about Jesus.

I sang to him the traditional Gaelic hymn "Morning Has Broken," by Eleanor Farjeon. You may listen to the hymn here by Cat Stevens. I then sang the song with my daughter Jami at Dad's funeral.

The next day after I sang that hymn to Dad, he asked for me.

The following day Dad died.

To give history of our relationship, Dad and I took care of our large family after my mother became ill when I was ten years old. Dad would get me up even before the sun rose, so I could get us breakfast and to the bus on time.

My dad was a fun daddy. He played the harmonica as we danced about in the living room. We rode on his back as he bucked about to us off. We always fell off playing Bucking Bronco.

The song "Daddy's Hands", by Holly Dunn, is a near perfect song about my dad.

I married young and left home. Dad wasn't too happy about that, and I believe he carried the hurt with him for the rest of his life. These last five years, living close to him since my marriage at age 17, has been a healing time for both of us.

I miss my dad.

When my sister called to say Dad was leaving us, we jumped in the car and drove the hour to his home. I missed his last breath by twenty minutes. That shook me. I wanted to be there when his spirit left and went to the great beyond. God had other plans, and so I accepted that.

Our large family of siblings gathered together that morning, streaming in one by one. We prayed together. Sang together. We anointed our dad's body with oil and said our goodbyes.

I have no regrets. I grieved with a passion as the coroners carried Dad from the house. I didn't want to take the grief home with me. You know what I mean. The inconsolable grief that tears at your heart until you feel as though you may faint.

I still miss my dad.

Both of my parents are gone now. Us children are the elders. How odd.

I pray each day before I rise that God will continue to hold my hand, as my dad once held mine. Seeing me through this time of grief and loss.

I love my dad and he loved me.

Until next time . . . maybe you, too, can make right relationships that need righting.


  1. So sorry for your loss. Thanks for sharing this with us. I think you are right, now is the time be reconciled. May God comfort you during this time.

  2. Jean Ann, you have my deepest sympathy on your dad's passing. Your post touched a chord in me.

    My dad died three years ago on March 27, and God allowed me to be the only person with him when he passed on. I believe this was so we could reconcile. My dad and I never saw eye to eye on anything. Our relationship was tumultuous. My mom has always thought it was because we were both so alike...both stubborn and unwilling to yield. I also married young at 17, and my parents were quite unhappy about this, but signed the papers anyway.

    I miss my dad too, though I don't think of him everyday. Your post made me think of him today though, and how good God was to allow me to make my amends with my father at the end, and to be with him as he left this world. So I too, know that quiet peace that comes from reconciliation.

    Thanks so much for sharing your grief. It brought back a memory that I will be forever thankful for.

    Hugs to you ♥

    1. I'm so thankful my post helped, Ann Marie. Sounds like we've traveled on similar journeys. God bless you, dear one!

  3. Thank you, Reda. I know you're suffering also since losing your daddy only a few months ago. God bless you and I still pray for your grieving.

  4. Thanks for sharing this, Jean Ann. This is the sweetest photo of you and your daddy. And the obituary you wrote gave a wonderful glimpse into his life.
    Easter Blessings!

  5. Thank you for stopping by to read my post, Sally. Yes, this photo is one of the last ones of us together. Blessing to you, also! Big hugs in return.

  6. My sweet friend, that was a beautiful tribute to you dad. May the writing of his death, remembering happier days, aid your healing. You have had so many burdens these last many months and I pray that the valley of heaviness is over and you are entering happier days. God loves you and so do I!

  7. Thank you, Pat. We sure could use a stretch of mountain-top times, but not sure what God has planned. He is as always in charge and spot on Right and Good. Love and hugs!