I Was Blind, but Now I See

Watching the countless balloons carrying messages of gratitude and love, and some, like mine, even kissed, be swept away by the slight breeze on a warm July afternoon, I found myself feeling as raw as I did the day my Daddy left this world. This day, was a Donor Celebration which I had the opportunity to attend. If I am being honest, I only wanted to attend to support my mom. Deep down I believed it would be a day of pain as I focused my attention on what I had lost just two years ago. For those of you who know me, know that my Dad was my everything. He was my hero and I unabashingly adored him with all that I am---still do! His passing has left an incredible hole in my heart. As the days have passed some of this rawness has given way to other distractions, but the hole has remained and not a single day has gone by without me thinking about what I lost.

It was not until this afternoon; as I sat and listened to a man read his thank you letter to his unknown pelvis donor that I understood what I had gained.  My heart was penetrated by his story, a story of immobility to one of walking, hiking, and rough housing with his grandkids on the floor. He had walked to the celebration and said, still after all these years since his partial pelvis transplant, he has never taken a single step without remembering “Fred’s” selfless act of donating his body to those whose life would either be preserved and/or made more sufficient because of his gift.

My dad’s last gift was to donate his body. We learned later that his body was able to help 22 people, though we do not know who they are.  As this man read his letter, he became the face, the voice of those 22, for I am sure they are just as grateful for the gift they received.  Quoting John 15:13 “Greater love has no one than this, than he who lays down his life for a friend”, this man opened my eyes to see another side to my emptiness since my Daddy’s passing. Nestled in these words is abundant grace, an extravagant gift-- the eternal hope I needed.  I lost my Daddy, but I have also gained. Though vastly, vastly different, his selfless act brought a new life to others just as my merciful Redeemer has brought a new, eternal life to those who were broken. Jesus was the ultimate donor!

As I was driving home, somber in mood the next day, I sat with my thoughts for some time before switching on the radio. The all too familiar song, “Amazing Grace” filled the air. It is a song most people, Christians and non-Christians alike are familiar with. The music and tempo have been rearranged countless times over the years, but the lyrics never touched. As the song began to play, I listened to the lyrics, pondering them, attempting to put myself into the equation and filtering them through the previous day’s events. When the song ended, my mind continued to play the song over and over again. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me…” What, I wondered, does grace sound like? I have asked myself that question countless times since and each day, I swear the answer continues to morph into a more complete understanding of what it both sounds and looks like in my life.

Grace is a personal gift. It meets you where you are. This day, grace came in the stillness, the quiet of the afternoon, whispering through the warm and gentle breeze, “I have come to bring life and life to the full” and Beloved, hear me when I say, “My grace is sufficient for you, my power made perfect in weakness”. This day, grace covered me completely, filling the hole left by my Daddy’s passing, liberating me, giving me new eyes to see what I have gained. Like the man who has never taken a step without remembering the gift he received, I too desire to live a life filled with gratitude for the eternal gift I have received. I received this gift countless years ago, but as time has passed, my gratitude has become mediocre. This Donor Celebration caused me to change my perspective, from the perspective of loss and hurt to one of peace and ultimate gratitude. I will lose the things of this world, but I have richly gained in Christ. This does not mean the pain of losing my Daddy lessens by any means. It does, however, mean that I can have an unexplainable peace where there once was incredible pain.

“For me, to live is Christ and to die is to gain” Philippians 1:21. I want to be intentional, purposeful, bold for Who I live my life for. If it was not for the greatest love story ever told, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whosoever believes in Him will have eternal life”, I would not and could not know the fullness of God’s grace for me. I have been made whole because of His grace for me.