Sixteen and Seventeen
I had been wanting to see him since nearly 6 months had passed since we were face-to-face. Since my mother’s remarriage and our subsequent move to Charleston, SC, I now had about a 4 hour drive between me and my dad. If I can just hold out for a couple of weeks, I’ll see him during my Christmas break. Why am I missing him so much right now?
I was sleeping well going into my final two days before Christmas break, but definitely not looking forward to the mid-term exams standing between me and my temporary freedom. Thursday morning… aahhhhh. Two more to go. If you would’ve asked me, I would have said my junior year in high school was carrying along as planned. Learning more French. Polishing up my high school transcript with CP, Honors and AP courses. I think I even had a girlfriend. Or had had one… I can’t remember. The phone woke me up that morning shortly before 6am. I heard my mom answer it across the hall in her bedroom. Her door opened. Then, mine opened. “Your brother’s on the phone for you, Jonathan,” my mom told me. Hmmm. That’s odd. He, my 10-years-older brother, doesn’t usually call me and especially doesn’t do so at six in the morning.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jon boy.”
“Hey, Charles. What’s up?”
“I’ve got some news to tell you….. Dad passed away this morning.”
WHAT?!
“….”
“You there, Jonathan?”
“Yeah.”
“His heart must’ve failed him. [Our stepmother] found him really early this morning still sitting in the living room chair after staying up reading last night.”
“Oh.”
“Well. I’ll call you later on with details about what’s going on and we’ll go from there, okay?”
“Sure.”
“I love you, Jonathan.”
“I love you, too, Charles.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
There it was. 32 months after the brother between Charles and me was killed in a car wreck, my dad had taken his step into eternity, too. What a blow. I don’t think I even remember that Christmas or New Year. I went down hill from there. Three months of home bound schooling because I just didn’t want to go any where. Life stunk. Gosh, who was going to be next???
Seventeen years ago, Thursday, December 17, 1992, I was sixteen years old, aging way too quickly. I still deal with the wounds from that combination death punch from the early 90’s. The Enemy still tries to use this date to knock me down but to that I recall one of my favorite verses in the Bible. Romans 8:18. For I do not consider the sufferings of this present time worthy to be compared to the glory which shall be revealed in us. That promise backed by the Creator who sent His Son and traded my condemnation for His righteousness is the reason I can, and do, celebrate this time of the year. God became a man. A Father sent a Son. I love and extremely miss my dad but the anticipation of God’s glory that will be revealed in me when I step into eternity… well…
Therefore, since we have been declared righteous by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in the hope of God’s glory. Romans 5:1-2
That’s why I rejoice this Christmas season… and in every other season of life. Glory. His.
