Lyrics by Casting Crowns

I was sure by now

That You would have reached down

And wiped our tears away

Stepped in and saved the day

But once again, I say “Amen”, and it’s still raining

As the thunder rollsI barely hear

Your whisper through the rain“I’m with you”

And as Your mercy falls

I raise my hands and praise the God who gives

And takes away

I’ll praise You in this storm

And I will lift my hands

For You are who You are

No matter where I am

Every tear I’ve cried

You hold in Your hand

You never left my side

And though my heart is torn

I will praise You in this storm

I remember whenI stumbled in the wind

You heard my cry

You raised me up again

My strength is almost gone

How can I carry on

If I can’t find You

As the thunder rolls

I barely hear You whisper through the rain

“I’m with you”

And as Your mercy falls

I raise my hands and praise the God who gives

And takes away

I lift my eyes unto the hills

Where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord

The Maker of Heaven and Earth

Daddy

My mind does not want to let me write what my daddy MEANT to me. I want to write what my daddy MEANS to me. No past tense I want present tense.
Yet, I trust in God’s timing and I know He is bigger than the pain.
I loved daddy’s hands. They were strong hands with discernible calluses and lines that marked years of vital work, active hobbies, vigorous recreation and adventure.

Daddy’s hands were also gentle. He used them to wipe away my tears, and to draw me into a warm hug; those strong solid hands also affected the three men in my life.

His handshake was strong when he grasped my soon to be husband’s hand. The grasp said, “ welcome to the family” while also saying “don’t you ever hurt my daughter”.

Those compassionate hands cradled each of my infant sons. Those hands gently wrestled with the boys, baited their fishing poles and were steady and firm while teaching them the art of handling guns and hitting their target.

Last week it was my turn to have a firm grip on daddy’s hand while we walked into the doctor’s office.

Last week it was my turn to have gentle hands as I soothed his fevered brow.

Sunday it was my turn to gently hold those awesome calloused hands one last time.
With tears streaming down my face I told him that all would be okay.

For once - while in his presence I had to wipe away my own tears for my daddy’s strong hands now lay still.

Dad – May my hands be like yours. I love you

A Time to Die and a Time to Cry

Daddy died 2/4/2007

Died right after we all said goodbye

Two days before I had climbed in his hospital bed - just like I used to climb into his bed when I was little.

Laying my head on his chest I listened to his heart beat. Tears soaked into his gown. I knew my time with him would be ending soon.

He didn't know, my step mom didn't know. They would not hear those words. Until his last breath I believe my stepmom was in denial. My dad went to sleep believing all would be well.

I can't even write about it as I am afraid to connect my mind with my emotions. The pain is so great that I am fearful I can not bear the enormous load of grief. My gut goes into knots, my insticts tell me to scream long and loud. I want the world to stop to stay still - giving me a chance to gather the pieces of my life. I need to put lifes tasks into a neat row - deal with the emotions and then step back into a regular pattern of life.

I am angry also - I am angry at some of my friends. I need them and they are not there. I am angry because I have helped them through their difficult times. Yet when it is my time - I am left alone. I am infuriated.

I am am also livid because I expect something from friends. Maybe I am not suppose to expect anything at all.

When can I weep, when can I scream, when can I mourn? I am scared to allow it. I am terrified to start - fearful that I will never stop.