Before the Storm

Before the storm hit  we walked our familiar path, up over the hill and into firefly alley. The storm clouds were ominous but beautiful. It was hard not to stare. Fear mixed with awe, then resolved into a try-hard trust. God was in control, right?

Yes, but that doesn’t mean everything would be easy.

Weeks later, my dad would pass through the veil into glory leaving us bewildered and sad. He left in the night, when none of us could argue with him. Truthfully, how could we? He needed to enter his rest and walk into that glorious light that we all hope for.  I was just selfish. I so wanted one more conversation. I wanted to look into those beautiful blues one more time and know that he saw me back. I wanted my daddy.

The weeks before he passed, he was in and out of reality, saying all kinds of things. When I first arrived to see him in the hospital, we had some time alone. I will never forget those moments.

He saw me that night.

He said, ” Hey baby, hey baby”, patting the bedside with his beautiful artist’s hand. “Hey Mary, come here baby,” he said again, raising his hand to his heart. ” Come lay your head right here, baby.” I was surprised to say the least. I moved to his side and laid my head on his chest. ” Aren’t I a little old for this dad?” I asked him. I don’t think he heard me. I kept my head there a few moments, breathing in all that is my dad. Soon he began to talk about other things, things that didn’t make sense. I knew that moment was a gift from God.

My daddy saw me. Not just 47-year old me, but 5 year old me. I was seen by the one who had known me my whole life, and I was offered a place near his heart.

This memory still causes the tears to stream uncontrollably now that my dad is gone. It is a doorway into the closed places. The places that don’t want to see the light of day because it hurts too much. I am grateful for that memory.

Since my daddy died, I have photographed three weddings. I don’t typically shoot weddings, but these were planned long ago. I have not stopped. As I struggle to power through, I feel I am breaking from the inside out. It’s not the weddings, it’s me. I have not allowed my heart to open, to heal.

Pressure comes from the inside out, not the other way around.  Some changes need to take place. I need to wrangle the taskmaster’s voice that is my own. I need to cease being so hard on myself and speak kindly to a hurting heart. I need to surrender the closed and broken places to a God who is trustworthy. Things will get done. They always do.

In the meantime, I am going to remember all the good things about my dad. His love for the sea, how he taught me to treat others with respect, and how he knew the names of all the plants in the garden. How my daddy loved to put his hands in the dirt, partnering with creator God to bring new life to the earth. These things I will remember and treasure.

That night the storm rolled in, the fireflies lit up the kudzu with a million twinkling lights. ” There is much to hope for” they blinked into the darkness.

Yes, God is in control.

Psalm 4:6-8 ~”Many are saying, ‘Who will show us any good?’ Lift up the light of Your countenance upon us, O Lord! You have put gladness in my heart, More than when their grain and new wine abound. In peace I will both lie down and sleep, For You alone, O Lord, make me to dwell in safety.”