Faithful Father

When I was about to turn 18, I developed a dull pain in my abdomen and as the tenderness increased, concentrating on the left side, symptoms pointed to appendicitis. I recall how I hardly slept due to the pain and how I was not able to hold anything I ate, so my Dad decided to bring me to the hospital. Though I was distressed, I was relieved to be with Dad. Dad was at his element during emergencies. Time and again, he has demonstrated his love and commitment to my 8 siblings and I, especially, in our time of need.

We arrived at what looked to me more like an infirmary rather than a hospital. It was out of my comfort zone and though I felt ill at ease, I resigned to tolerate my surroundings, besides; my Dad personally assisted me out of the car, into a wheelchair and directed us gently inside.  Either the hospital was under renovation or they just did not have a lift service, I needed to walk up two flights of stairs. Without sleep, nauseous and in pain, that was no longer a simple task. I resisted at first, and I also tried to rely on my own strength, but my Dad firmly held on to me and instructed me to put my weight on him. So I did. I could not have made it to the second floor without Dad’s firm grip and support, climbing with me, one step at a time. Though I was in pain, I was moving—onward and upward. His strength enabled me to do what I thought I could not.

Soon I was comfortably lying in a hospital bed being prepped up for surgery. I was no longer afraid knowing Dad was there, in charge, assuring and inspiring hope. I realized that the surgeon on duty was my Dad’s friend and he was confident that the doctor was more than capable of taking care of my situation. In hindsight, as a parent myself, I would only entrust my child to someone who has gained my confidence and trust.

After the appendectomy, I woke up from surgery with instructions to eat a soft diet and not to laugh to keep the stitches in place. The former was not a problem with my Dad who loves to eat. He was there to welcome me when I woke up from surgery with hot chicken mami noodle soup from our favorite MaMonluk restaurant. But the latter, “not to laugh” was rather tricky. Dad is a fan of Charlie Chaplin, and even when he is not making me laugh, he can make me smile and giggle. That time, he brought our antique movie projector so that I could enjoy old family movies while recovering. How can one watch old family movies and not laugh? This was his loving attempt to bring home away from home and to distract me from the pain. He had not meant to trigger the pain of the stitches but I did not mind at all. I treasured that sunny moment so much more, to even mind the soreness on my side.

My dad filled my emotional tank during that episode in my life such that two weeks after, I celebrated my 18^th birthday with a bang. Instead of the usual cotillion, as I love to sing, we staged a mini-concert. Dad’s love gave me the confidence to shine and make him proud and happy.

Sharing a fun moment with my Dad

            

              That was over 20 years ago and as I relive that memory, I thank Dad for an experience that now points me to an even greater love---that of our Lord’s, our Heavenly Father. He has and continues to hold my hand as I go through painful and uncertain seasons. He calls me to trust and put the full weight of my concerns on Him—casting every care. He promises to be there, in both the highs and lows of life, taking each step with me, whispering words of encouragement and comfort with occasional dashes of humor. Why fear these seasons in my life, when He who is faithful, leads me? Always present, in-charge, assuring and inspiring hope—I am blessed to have an Abba Father.