April 19th

Today is the one year anniversary of my father's trip to heaven. I still miss him. Grief is a strange travel companion. Just when you think you have dealt with it all, another memory hits and the tears well up again. But it has been a sweet year, for I am so thankful that I know without a doubt that Gib (that's what I called him for the last decade) is in heaven enjoying his eternal reward. Oh how forlorn the first year of grief must be without that assurance.

In my reading this morning, I am in 1 Samuel 1-3. It's one of those times when I'm simply reading the passage for the study I'm doing (A Heart Like His by Beth Moore) and wham... God's sovereign timing became evident.

The verse that hit me is 1 Samuel 3:13 and 14, " For I [God] told him [Eli] that I would judge his family forever because of the sin he knew about; his sons made themselves contemptible, and he failed to restrain them. Therefore, I swore to the house of Eli, 'The guilt of Eli's house will never be atoned for by sacrifice or offering.'"

My dad had some tough conversations with his children near the end of his days. Some of my siblings still resent it, and wonder why he risked relationship. But as I read this passage I am so proud of my late daddy. He did indeed know that speaking plainly about what the Bible says about sin might risk alienation. But some things are more important than being popular. It was so not unloving. It was the essence of self sacrificial love. My father spoke the truth of God's word into a situation where God's Word is not seen as relevant. He knew the likely consequence. But he did it anyhow.

In this Scripture, Eli's lack of confrontation caused a *permanent* scar on the family line. That is very sobering.

So in addition to being thankful for the relationship I had with my father, the love of Scripture that he held until his last conscious moments, his steadfast spirit in times of duress, this morning I am thankful for his bravery. For his obedience. For his love and concern for each and every one of his children. He spoke the truth as he knew it - the God breathed innerant Word. There is no greater legacy.

I miss you Gib, but I'm happy for you. You've made it through the preparatory school of human life, and you've moved on to the real thing. See you soon!