The Merging of Joy and Sorrow

In two days I am expecting to have one of those milestone experiences of life that are both joyful and difficult. My father will be preaching at a nearby church this Sunday morning. It will be the first time I have heard him preach in many years. I grew up listening to him every Sunday morning and evening. He stood tall and proud in the pulpit, confidently proclaiming a message that called us to follow Jesus. Many people did. He has a notebook filled with names of people he has baptized over the years and I am proud to say that my name is on that list.

I have not heard my father preach in many years. Until a year ago, he and my mother lived in another city where he remained very active, preaching and working with churches. However, it just never happened that we were in town at a time when he was scheduled to preach. Honestly, I didn’t think much about it because I had heard him so many times growing up.

A year ago, he and my mother moved to Fort Worth, primarily to be closer to family. They are now eighty-five years old and Daddy was having some health concerns. Once they arrived, doctors were able to find and treat some significant problems and he is now feeling much better. However, he still has an eighty-five year old body that has limped through life with an artificial leg. His one knee, which has done the work of two for more than six decades, is about finished. Each step is very tentative, but he is too proud to use a walker or even a cane to help with stability. Instead, he prefers to hold on to my mother who will be able to provide little resistance should he start to fall.

Because of his health and the fact that he is unknown in our city, he has not had the opportunity to preach since moving. However, his pastor has invited him to preach this coming Sunday and we are all planning to attend to hear Daddy preach one more time. My two brothers and their families as well as two of our sons plan to be there and we are going to have Sunday lunch together as well. It should be a good day.

Yet, it will be difficult. I am confident it will be the final time that I hear him preach. In fact, I’m not sure he can stand for twenty minutes and I know it will be very difficult for him to climb the three steps required to get to the pulpit. Although I am excited about seeing and hearing him proclaim the Gospel one more time, it will not be the image in my mind of the many times I have seen him stand confidently before a congregation to deliver a word from the Lord.

Eight days after he preaches, Daddy and Mama are moving back to where they came from a year ago. Other than the good doctors who treated Daddy, they have not appreciated anything about their stay in our city. It is a move that makes no reasonable sense. Two eighty-five year olds, who physically cannot survive without the assistance of one another to make it through the day, are moving five hours away from the nearest family member. They crave the comfort of familiarity of a place.

Daddy is hoping that being in a city where his preaching is well-known will provide opportunities. It might – I don’t know. However, I will not be there to hear it. That is why I am confident this will be the final time for me to hear him preach. It will be a difficult experience.

Comments

[Bobby Fletcher]

Very, very touching. I'm a preacher, but I'm only 58. My Dad is not a preacher, but is 87. I will be thinking about you and praying for you and your family this Sunday as I stand behind my pulpit and preach again.