Sunday, January 25, 2015

It's an Honor


It's an honor.

...a privilege.

...a joy.

...a right I don't take for granted.

...a way to return the favor.

...a chance to serve.

...a commandment from God.

...a calling in life.

...a gift.

...a blessing.

God commands, "honor your father and your mother..." (Exodus 20:12; Deuteronomy 5:16; Matthew 15:4, 19:19;  Mark 7:10, 10:19; Luke 18:20; Ephesians 6:2)

When God called me to "take a break" from missions and spend some time at home, helping my parents, I readily accepted the call. 

I knew what that would require. I would give up a career that I loved. I would give up living on my own. I would give up a portion of my finances. And I would spend more time helping them. 

No one (but God, of course) asked me to. I chose to.

And you know what?

I would do it all over again if I had to. 


God chose for me to be born into this family. God chose for these two to be my parents.

For so many years, they took care of me. So when the time came, and God placed this new call on my heart, I jumped at the chance to turn the tables so to speak. And I realize what a blessing this time with my parents has been in my life.


My dad was having a rough morning, so I chose to go to church with my parents today, as to drive for them and to help my mom in taking care of my dad. 

My parents pastor a home church with a small group of sweet believers. It's more like a family than a church. I always feel like I'm at home when I visit there.

And as I sat in church, watching my sweet Daddy preach his heart out this morning, I felt such immense pride. He shared the Word of God as part of an awesome sermon. He led us in worshipping our Savior. And he prayed such a sweet prayer to help usher us into the presence of the Holy Spirit. 

At once during his sermon, he felt a little light headed, and we all jumped up because he was about to pass out. It's something that happens sometimes with him these days. When he recovered, I watched my dad, with tears in his eyes, rebuke the devil's attack on his body. 

I see a man who has always put God first in his life. I see a man who, for as long I've been alive, has preached the Word of God. I see a man who has lived a life of sacrifice for his Savior, his family, and his ministry. 

And now I see a man who, at times, is struggling to move around, to breathe, to live his life. I see a man who is nearing the end of his life. Now whether that's a couple months or twenty years, we don't know know...

But what I do know is this...

No matter how weak he is... No matter how tired he is... No matter how rough of a day he's having... 

He continues preaching the Word of God. And I must say... He does a mighty fine job at doing so!

And me?

I continue to be proud of this man that God chose to be my Daddy.

I continue to be grateful to God for calling me to help my dad.

I continue to look at this time with my dad as a blessing and honor from above.

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