Gold from the Basement
Romans 12:12: “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”
I have written about my amazing mom. She was someone who reached for excellence in everything she did. Even when we were given her fatal diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease, she boldly signed up for as many clinical trials she could enter. These were not pleasant, but her resolve was to find a cure if not for herself, for those she left behind. The courage she displayed until the day she died came from two places. The first was from her committed relationship to her heavenly Father. The second was from her faithful partner in life, her husband of 50 years; my dad.
As much as I am connected to my mother, there is no greater connection that I have than with my dad. Growing up, I was told by many outsiders how much I was like my mom. I would just politely smile and say, “not really.” My mom was the extravert that I am. But how I process the world is just like my dad. Of course, we have significant differences, but our internal wiring is the same.
Our relationship has been a bit of a challenge for others. There is never a problem when a mother/daughter or father/son bond, that’s natural. And, yes, I am covered by the “daddy’s little girl” syndrome. However, we have an understanding of one another that most do not experience. We have climbed many mountains together. We have also served side by side in various capacities. We just “get” each other. I am blessed to have a dad who engaged in both of his children’s lives. But I am more blessed to have a dad who demonstrated what living a life of faith looks like.
In a world where we are searching for people who represent truth, love, and kindness, I do not have to look past my own family. My dad was Vice President of a company in Jersey City, New Jersey. He worked long days and many hours to provide for our family. But he also invested time in both my brother and me.
My dad’s heart beats for sports. He played football and baseball. His high school football coach eventually became the President of the Philadelphia Eagles. And yes, for those who follow the NFL, that means I am a HUGE Eagles fan, and I am proud of it!! We would move our kitchen table into the family room on Sunday afternoons so we could eat our “Sunday dinner” while watching football. We even had a special antenna in our attic so we could watch the Eagles in North Jersey. We are die-hard fans!
There are many moments I can retrieve from my memory about my dad. Like when he volunteered to be the umpire of my softball club and decided to call three strikes on me, as the batter. (Don’t think I have forgiven him yet for that one). My dad taught us how to body surf the waves at the Jersey shore. And skip clam shells along the tops of the waves. My dad taught me how to ride my bike. He came running into my room in the middle of the night as I was screaming out in pain from a back injury. He would rock me in the middle of the storms while singing this little song he made up. I can sing it word for word. And he handed me my diploma as I graduated from seminary (both my parents were board members at the time).
I could write pages about the memories I have of my dad. However, one that meant the greatest was his morning routine. He would get up, do exercises, shower, eat breakfast, and then head to….the basement. Yep, I said basement.
The basement was quiet. It was private. This is where my dad would meet God. The Bible, a pad of paper and pen in hand, off he would go. My dad was a self-taught Bible scholar. If you had the opportunity to sit through many of his Sunday school classes, you would walk away not only with sound teaching but with a bunch of information that would make you a star at the next Bible trivia Olympics. Be careful when his sentence starts with, “True or false.” But down in that basement, my dad would start every morning studying scripture and being faithful in prayer.
It has only been the past decade, where I became aware of the trials my dad faced throughout his career. I did not know the emotional pain and mental anguish he suffered. I know my dad would be the first to say my mom stood by him and did all she could to help him through it. But I also know, if my dad had not leaned daily on the promises of God, he would never have come forth as he has, like gold. Whenever I faced trials, my dad would point me back to Job, as his mother did for him. Job 23:10 states, “But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.”
My dad faced many trials throughout his years. The hardest was being the caregiver of my mom. The dreams he and my mom had about growing old and living their golden years together were cut short. He did everything he could to love her and care for her well. He succeeded. He succeeded because he spent those mornings in the basement, on his knees praying to the one who carried him through the fiercest of flames.
“Be joyful in hope.” My dad continues to carry himself joyfully… you want to hear dad jokes; he’s got millions. Be “patient in affliction.” He is one of the most patient people I know. “Faithful in prayer.” To this day, I can text or call him with the worries of my world, and I KNOW he is bringing my pain before God in a way that only my dad can.
The reward for those who are joyful, patient, and faithful? Blessings! God rewarded him with another wonderful woman to spend the rest of his days. God has provided an abundance of blessings so he can share with his family and friends. And I do not doubt that behind the chest of pride my dad has for his family, we will find a heart of pure gold.
We all face mountains that seem so high to climb. We live in a world of uncertainty. But this is what I know to be true; if we meet those mountains with joy in hope, patient in the pain and faithful in prayer, we too will reap the blessings our God has for us.