#rejoicingalways

Taking walks around Wexford Woods fills me with hope- hope for spring, hope for an end to the virus, and hope that I can see my father soon. I see the daffodils opening up. The peonies are waking up out of their winter slumber. I need to remember this as yesterday seemed hopeless.

Surprised, I answered his call. “Dad?” I asked, hoping he could hear me. Our conversation was good, considering that he could barely hear. Some of it was actually funny. I kept asking, “Did you get my letters?” He answered, “Are you asking me about water? Yes, I should drink more water.” He talked about the virus and said how it didn’t even compare to his war experiences and that it was worse. We ended the call on a positive note.

However, a few hours later, everything changed. He called again, but he was despondent and frustrated. “I’m so lonely. I cannot hear anything.” His cries continued as I listened. I tried using the lower tones of my voice. ” Read your Bible, Dad,” I urged him. “What? What did you say?” he continued to ask. It was a conversation filled with frustration. He ended it by thanking me for the call. I immediately called Royal Park and asked them to check on him. It seemed like the only thing I could do. I sat at the kitchen table with my family and cried.

A different text came yesterday as well. My aunt’s cancer is back. My cousin is devastated.

But yet, there is hope. God has my father in the palm of His hand. I need to cling to this truth. I need to rejoice always, even though it is painful. He never promised that the journey would be easy, but He does promise that He is always with us. I cling to His truths as I try to encourage my father from afar.