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Michelle Hatter

peace: a dad, a disease, a prayer.




Today, I am wrapping up a sweet visit with my dad. Oh, how I love him so. I wrote this over the last ten days.


I am feeling a supernatural, unexpected peace, and that’s what I want to talk about. I’ve been familiar with Philippians 4:7 for some time, …And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. But this last week, here with my dad, this verse has spoken softly to me in a new way.


In the midst of chaos, one such as terminal illness, peace might be difficult to locate much less embrace. Peace that allows one to sleep restfully at night, stay strong in the fight, and be free of anxiousness. Peace that calms not only the surface but every depth below. Such a peace is a rare gem for me; someone with a history of anxiety and internal worry. Even in strong faith, I can be left with a shortage of this type of peace. So this last 10 days, God has shown me significant favor and great mercy. And I believe it even echoed to my dad and my step mom.


He is working through lung cancer of an aggressive sort, my dad. His health has not been good over the years; his body now growing its most weary with chemo and radiation and pokes and prodding’s. His physical age has caught him like a steel trap, though his mind is still as sharp as a razor. He is fully aware of his physical state. He has also spoken frequently of ending his own life, and avoiding suffering. So it’s a tough place he is in. The most important aspect of my dads journey however, is his soul. I’ve not known him to be a believer throughout my life as his daughter, and the opportunity to share the gospel with him has been the most treasured privilege I have had so far. Offering hope in Jesus and a glimpse of Heaven so that he may surrender his will to God and find peace trusting Gods will in this cancer journey.


That is all I am after.


My dad has been a boss in most instances and in charge of most things within his reach most of his life. He’s the hardest worker I know, not to mention one of the strongest men I’ve ever known. Surrendering himself to a spiritual authority is all but the most unexpected position I would ever think of him in. Being rendered helpless and in need has withered him into depression. But he is understanding, slowly, through cancer, that control is for the most part out of his hands. Cancer is an imposed crash course in humility. But, he is hearing the gospel, being prayed over, and crying out to God in his own way. I believe he is beginning to believe. Praise God for that.


The peace of God began in me weeks ago, while preparing for this trip. We live several states apart, my dad and I, and there was some planning and scheduling involved. Typically, I get a little anxious flying. Typically, I get a little anxious being away from home, and from my husband. This trip however has provided none of those anxieties but rather simple, pure, calming peace every step of the way. Another potential source of anxiety for me was the way in which I lost my mom two years ago. And the bizarre way I did not make it in time to be with her just before she passed. So that fear occurred to me before arriving here.


Yet here I am, sitting with my earthly father, spending an amazing week with him. I made it in time. Thank you Lord. Not only do I get to be here, but I am catching him occasionally reading the Bible app we placed on his phone. Hearing his questions and doubts about God. Watching the Lord provide for him in every painful moment. Trusting God has been beckoning him, and will reveal Him self soon. I’ve been able to read scripture to my dad, pray with him, be still with him, and simply be present in his suffering. Such an honor every moment has been. Gifts to remember with such sweet fondness that my peace shall not be interrupted. I cannot express how grateful I am for this time. My brother Michael (well, 1/2 brother) and his family have been here for a few days, as well as my daughter Nicole, son in law, and granddaughters. It’s been such a tremendous blessing for us all to love on this man we hardly recognize and yet love so much.


So peace, that surpasses all understanding, is what I have been experiencing for weeks. Because I know who God is, and fully trust He is in control, I can see Him working in my dad, even if pops is a little late to the party. I hear Gods still small voice, even when there is a lot of discomfort around me. I did not do anything to find this peace, I can’t explain how I got it, and not sure how to get it again, except to say that it was a gift from the King of Kings at a time when I needed it. And even if my dad doesn’t recognize it yet, he needed it too. Recognizing God in our midst is incredibly helpful in these trials. Perhaps that is the point, peace is available to all of us who call Jesus Lord and all that is required of us is to grab onto it.


When I consider a person coming to faith toward the end of life, I am comforted by many scriptures that remind me it only takes one moment to believe, in even a final breath. My dad worried it might be too late for him, so I told him about the thief on the cross. I am also reminded in Peter 3:8, But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years as one day. To God, one day acknowledging Him is as good as a thousand. I also think of the words of the Psalmist, And call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me. Psalm 50:15.


Though I think the most important passage I shared with my dad is from the book of Romans, 10:9-10, If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord”, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved. That is all that’s needed. So I choose to believe that he will believe, and will be sent the same supernatural peace to carry him through the rest of this journey.


In our last moments together today, we prayed over him and my step mom, and he cried. We all cried. As a beautiful bonus, my 2 and 6 year old granddaughters prayed too. And then as I hugged him hard and his frail body trembled, he said very clearly in my ear “I’ll see you in Heaven.” I choose to hear that as a small assurance my dad is in fact a Child of God. A saved sinner who will inherit the Kingdom, and wear a perfectly suited body where no cancer will be found and he will be strong again and able to experience rest and joy. He will walk freely without help and be so glad he chose Jesus. I don’t know if I will see my dad again this side of Heaven. As I recall the goodbye, my heart aches and yes it will ache, even with peace in the forefront. I am willing to experience peace and pain at the same time. Whatever God may have in store for each of us, to recognize the gift of the peace of God is enough manna for each moment.


  




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