Missing my Daddy

"Whom have I in heaven but You?
And there is none upon earth that
I desire besides You.
My flesh and my heart fail;
But God is the strength of my
heart and my portion forever."
(Psalm 73:25-26)

Fifteen years ago, I woke up not knowing that in a few short hours, my life would change drastically. I didn't have any idea that I was about to experience something that I didn't think I would ever have to experience. I didn't realize that I would go through something that only the grace of God would get me through. I didn't have a clue that a piece of my heart would be forever rended from my being.

I was a daddy's girl. I loved to do all the things that my daddy did. My older sister spent most of her time in the kitchen with my mother doing the girly thing as she liked to cook and sew. Me? I liked to watch football with my daddy. (go Cowboys!). I liked to watch golf with my daddy. If he was outside, then that's where I wanted to be. Whatever he was doing, I was right there beside him.

On July 12, 1994, I talked to my daddy on the phone for the last time. It was my birthday and he and my mother had called me and sang happy birthday to me over the phone just like always. His final words to me were "I love you sweetheart". My final words to him were "I love you daddy".

July 14th, when my sweet husband came home to tell me the news, I could tell by the look on his face that something was terribly wrong. Different thoughts ran through my head very quickly, but the one that settled in my mind was my daddy. "Is it my daddy?", I asked him in a choked up voice. He couldn't even speak - all he could do was nod his head.

My next question was one that seems a little strange. I had all sorts of things playing out in my head. I had answers in my head that I wanted him to respond with. I had things picked out that he was supposed to say to make things better. The look on his face told me otherwise. "Is he dead?" was my next inquiry. You see, at this point, he was supposed to tell me that everything was OK. He was supposed to assure me that perhaps my daddy had been hurt in an accident, but he would be just fine. He was supposed to answer the way I wanted him to answer.

It wasn't to be that way. My dear husband just began to cry and nod his head. I couldn't even fathom what he was telling me. All I could do was sob uncontrollably and I kept yelling over and over. "You are NOT telling me this!", "This is NOT happening".

I wanted to go back and have a do-over. I wanted to go back to sleep and wake up again to different circumstances. I wanted the words to go back into my husbands mouth and come out differently.

My precious daddy, at age 58, had suffered a massive heart attack at home and had gone to be with Jesus. He had been on his morning walk. He had finished his daily bible reading. He had been about to walk out the door to go to work and God called his name. My precious mother tried everything she could as she called 911, but it wasn't to be. God was ready for him. At 54, she became a widow.

I was 32 years old. That was the absolute worst day of my life. I would never in a million years want to go back and experience that very hurt again. I miss my daddy as much today as I did 15 years ago. The hurt is easier to deal with, but the pain is the same.

The only thing that has gotten me through is my Savior.

I draw my strength from Him.
I cling to the promise of His Word.
I rest in the shadow of His wings.
I call unto Him in my distress and He answers me.

He is my rock and my salvation. I can rest in the promise of Salvation. I know that my daddy is waiting in heaven. I know that one day I will see his precious face again. I know that he is with the Lord.

I love you daddy and I miss you like crazy.