| Cute Mom and Dad at Eliza's wedding 11-11 |
My dad shared some inspiring insights in a phone conversation yesterday. He had been reflecting on the numerous health issues that had challenged his life. After a long illness in his twenties, the doctors performed an ileostomy. In his thirties he contracted bells palsey which prevented him from working for a month. In his fifties his kidneys failed and he was subjected to dialysis until my brother generously donated his kidney. (Thank you Peter.) Dad has allergies which in his later years progressed to pneumonia several times. At one point lung surgery was necessary. Many prayers and priesthood blessings have been offered in his behalf, but he wasn't sure he'd ever seen a miracle. He was discussing this idea in a church class and a wise friend commented, "You're still here aren't you?"
My father realized this was true. He is 77 and has outlived all the other ileostomy patients his age. A kidney transplant is expected to last 12-15 yrs. before most patients go back on dialysis. His transplant is 20 yrs. old. He volunteers in the temple 3 days a week. He used to shuffle up the many stairs. He set small goals for himself and now takes 2 at a time. He started riding his bicycle up the canyon. At first, he would ride then walk, ride then walk. He reached his goal of riding the whole way to his designated spot. Then he set a new goal, ride up the steep incline 2 miles further to the rock power house. He rode a little farther everyday, until he decided to just keep pedaling. He made it.
The miracles are there, but many times they just look like life. The miracle we usually want to see is "Take away the hard parts," but the experience is how God helps us develop faith, and love, and understanding and strength. He's still with us. He's just making something more of us than we had planned or thought possible. Quoting Dallin H. Oaks, "We can trust in God's love and his power."
Thanks Dad. I love you, and I'm glad you're still here.
2 comments:
I love this. Thanks Aunt Laurie.
What a wonderful perspective! I hope I can be more like your dad.
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