When we moved to Minnesota in January, we knew that my dad was dying and it was only a matter of time. We knew that there was a very good chance that we would never see him again. Taking my kids away from my parents at such a time was one of the hardest things I have ever done; however, Bryan and I deeply believed that it was God’s time for us to move. It was my “Abraham moment”, and I didn’t want an “Ishmael situation” on my hands. So we left.
Thus began a 5-month plea that God would give me a week with my dad before he passed, and a couple of weeks to care for my mom afterwards. With my brother also living in Minnesota, my father’s passing would mean that my mom would be alone to deal with my dad’s death. I could not imagine that for her.
My dad had been ill for a long time, and there was no way to tell when he would go. I felt like I was walking a tightrope that could snap at any time. There were no promises or guarantees, just blind faith that God’s goodness and faithfulness would extend to every detail of my torn heart. I prayed that God would tell me exactly when to go…
In the end of June, God started pressing in on my heart that it was time. We booked a ticket that allowed me to stay for 3 weeks. The morning after I arrived in South Africa, we brought my dad home from the hospital, and for the next 5 days I helped my mother take care of him. My dad was never really lucid and only said my name once, but I spent a lot of time praying for him and reading the Psalms to him.
On day 6, I was tired and emotionally worn out, so I went to do some shopping and banking for my mother. I was planning on taking my time drinking in the familiarity of home, but God, in His grace, had other plans.
I took one turn rather than another into the local mall and spotted a car out of the corner of my eye. It looked like the car of my friend who lives on the other side of town. And then I saw her daughter get out of the car. Of all the spaces in the parking lot, that was the only one where I would have noticed her. I pulled over, we hugged and cried. As we spoke, she shared about the day that her father passed away a few years ago. She told me how she went to help her mother, and one day while she left to run a 10-minute errand, her father passed away.
As I started my shopping, I kept thinking how crushed I would be if I came all this way to be with my dad and he died while I was at the store. I abandoned my shopping and rushed home. When I arrived home, my mother called for me and told me that it was time. I held my dad and told him how much we loved him, how much he meant to us and how much we would miss him, but that we wanted him to be whole again, to be restored and to be with God whom he loved with all his heart. And as I held him he slipped out of this world into the next.
In His amazing mercy, God heard the cry of my heart, guided me in his perfect timing, and even chose my friend, Sonja, to guide me back home. For many, such events may seem insignificant, but as I reflect over my time in South Africa and God’s care and faithfulness, I will never again doubt how much God cares about the desires of my heart.
With love, Daleen
