My phone rang last night. It was my dad. Pastor, dad, friend. You see, my dad has been struggling lately. He was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease a few years ago. I saw a man with Parkinson's at work today and someone had to hold his drink for him due to the shaking of his hand. It has to be embarrassing. Humiliating for something invisible to rob you of the life you once lived. Your life is changed forever. I don't think we have a whole lot of time left with him and as we talked last night he said, in his words, "I've asked the Lord to take me home so I can be with him." Hard. Very hard. Even just to write. Hard.
His call was unexpected but his calls always have purpose. My dad has been a pastor of a church for as long as I've been alive. As long as my sister has been alive. It was his calling from day one of his new birth. He was good at it. He (is) was always a good preacher and at times it seemed like he was on the verge of calling fire down from heaven. I long to preach like him one day. All this to say, my dad decided to retire. He said he has peace about not being at the church anymore. Something I never thought I would hear my dad say.
Change isn't easy, but it's coming. It's weird that I'm "there" with one of my parents. To know that his time with me is slipping away, until death separates us for a little while. I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I want to be like my dad. So, I decided to write him a letter. A kind of "open letter" since those are all the rage now a days in the evangelical community. So here you go. A letter to my Pastor dad.
Dad,
You may never read this but I hope you know it. I love you. I miss you. I pray for you. The hardest part of growing up has been not being around you as much. I miss the days I would wake up afraid and you would sit by my bed and read the bible to me and those words would comfort me into a deep and peaceful sleep. I got to do that with Elijah the other day. You would be so proud of him. He's smart and reminds me of you in so many ways. The words he uses and how he loves to read. He tells me all the time that he loves Jesus. It's the only thing I hoped for, dad. You are leaving a legacy of Jesus being loved. Thank you for telling me the greatest story ever told. The only story worth telling. Kyle is so bright and reads so well. He smiles like you and laughs so much. Annabella is like mom. She loves to be loved but keeps you at an arms length. She gets so excited when I come home and throws herself into my arms. I remember greeting you like that when you would get home. You should see Kallie now. She has grown up so much in the faith and has lots of questions. I hope I can pastor her the way you pastor-ed mom. Don't lose heart, dad. You may not be the pastor anymore but you still have a ministry. You minister to me. I love you dad. I hope you believe that. I know I caused you lots of heartache as a kid and even have as an adult but your grace has been evident in the fact that you took me back every time. Your grace got me to where I am. A pastor once said, "Law makes the wayward run and never come back. Grace may make them run but they always come back." I came back, dad. I love you.
your son,
Ricardo J.
