My Dad passed away on October 15th of this year. We have assurance from the Bible that we'll be reunited again some day in the next reality, but it hasn't kept us from all the grief and sorrow that comes with the separation of death. We have hope, but there's still mourning.
Preparing for Dad's memorial service, we pulled together what pictures we could find for a video tribute to his life. It was fascinating to see his story from beginning to end and realize the great work that God did in him over those 75 full years.
One picture seemed to stand out to me... the one you see here. I remember it vividly. This was taken in the mid-80s when Dad really began to write prolifically. His poetry from this time in his life is profound and beautiful and has touched many. He professionally printed and distributed scores of copies of his poems "Little Girl", "Little Boy", and "Mystique". We used his poem "The Cross, The Cap and the Crown" as well as "Word Sculpture of a Man of God" as part of his service. All well-written poems on living well.
What is striking about the picture is how happy Dad is in this photo. And if in the picture you can see that he looks like a writer, you see everything he intended of this picture. He had decided he wanted to be a writer, and he wanted to look like a writer. He had found his passion and with great skill was using it to touch people in meaningful, spiritual ways, but not all of his writing found its way into the hands of people who needed it. Since he's passed, we've found a thousand pieces of paper and notebooks everywhere with more of his writing. Some just thoughts, some just carefully crafted phrases, others just ideas, and still others are complete teachings and meditations on scripture that would humble the most astute seminarian. It was not enough for him to think brilliant thoughts (which he did), he had to express them in eloquence. He was a wordsmith in every way.
What I find striking about this picture is that Dad was in this picture the age I am now. (Please don't do the math.) And like him, I've talked of being a writer for a while now. I've started writing more books than most people have read. I have sixteen years of blogs and articles and teachings I've written for my local congregation all neatly stored on my hard drive. My thousand pieces of paper are all digital.
So here I am at the end of the most difficult year of my life. I've lost my job, my career, a few friends, a fair amount of self-confidence; I lost my house and then I lost my Dad. That's a lot of void where there once was fullness. But I believe that death brings life and void often brings clarity if you'll stare at it long enough. I've been staring at it; I've been staring at this picture; and here's the clarity that came to me...
All this time I've structured writing around my life; but if I don't structure my life around writing, all I'll have at the end of my life is a thousand pieces of paper that someone needed to read.
So, here it is... the big announcement. In order to structure my life around writing, I've decided to move home to Wichita where I can create a life around writing, taking a job that isn't a career but can pay the bills, live meagerly and simply so that I can devote myself to the gift in me. I'm terrified. But I know no other way to be who God created me to be than to make this move and lifestyle change. Things will move quickly from here. I expect to be in Kansas next month.
Thanks for coming along on this journey. It's about to get interesting.
Preparing for Dad's memorial service, we pulled together what pictures we could find for a video tribute to his life. It was fascinating to see his story from beginning to end and realize the great work that God did in him over those 75 full years.
What is striking about the picture is how happy Dad is in this photo. And if in the picture you can see that he looks like a writer, you see everything he intended of this picture. He had decided he wanted to be a writer, and he wanted to look like a writer. He had found his passion and with great skill was using it to touch people in meaningful, spiritual ways, but not all of his writing found its way into the hands of people who needed it. Since he's passed, we've found a thousand pieces of paper and notebooks everywhere with more of his writing. Some just thoughts, some just carefully crafted phrases, others just ideas, and still others are complete teachings and meditations on scripture that would humble the most astute seminarian. It was not enough for him to think brilliant thoughts (which he did), he had to express them in eloquence. He was a wordsmith in every way.
What I find striking about this picture is that Dad was in this picture the age I am now. (Please don't do the math.) And like him, I've talked of being a writer for a while now. I've started writing more books than most people have read. I have sixteen years of blogs and articles and teachings I've written for my local congregation all neatly stored on my hard drive. My thousand pieces of paper are all digital.
So here I am at the end of the most difficult year of my life. I've lost my job, my career, a few friends, a fair amount of self-confidence; I lost my house and then I lost my Dad. That's a lot of void where there once was fullness. But I believe that death brings life and void often brings clarity if you'll stare at it long enough. I've been staring at it; I've been staring at this picture; and here's the clarity that came to me...
All this time I've structured writing around my life; but if I don't structure my life around writing, all I'll have at the end of my life is a thousand pieces of paper that someone needed to read.
So, here it is... the big announcement. In order to structure my life around writing, I've decided to move home to Wichita where I can create a life around writing, taking a job that isn't a career but can pay the bills, live meagerly and simply so that I can devote myself to the gift in me. I'm terrified. But I know no other way to be who God created me to be than to make this move and lifestyle change. Things will move quickly from here. I expect to be in Kansas next month.
Thanks for coming along on this journey. It's about to get interesting.