A Father Lost, A Father Gained

Christine Chappell
Nov 2, 2016
4 min read

Although it has been five years, I remember it like it was yesterday: the day I had to give my father back.

After the devastating loss of a limb and the many attempts to overcome, the cancer had gotten the best of him, taking the best of me right along with it.

In this season of pain and decay,

I lost hope, I lost my bearings,

and I lost my dad–all at the age of 28.

The weeks following his death remain an intoxicated blur as I sought to numb the helplessness with alcohol. The mix of anger with sorrow, pain with bitterness, and terror without hope was simply too much for my flesh to cope with. Try as they might, there was little friends or family could do–it was simply a process that had to be traveled alone.

I did not know the Lord at the time. In fact, if asked, I would have said I knew quite well there was no “lord” to know at all. But little did I know, this God my husband was seeking as my father slowly faded had been weaving his graces into my story since long ago.

My husband’s faith, though out of practice since his teenage years, came rushing to the surface during this season of mortality. So much so, I was initially disgusted by the revival. One day, he brought home a children’s bible for our then four-year-old daughter, to which I responded by making sure he knew I would never read it with them. Ever.

Even still, the Lord saw it fit to bring alongside my husband an encourager at work to lift him closer to Jesus and to provide resources that might minister to my hard heart. The entire summer leading up to my father’s death was sprinkled with invitation after invitation to visit the coworker’s church on any given Sunday. Time and time again, one thing after another got in the way of us actually going–that is, until two weeks after my dad had gone.

One sunny October Sunday morning, I said, “Yes. I’ll go.”

The awkwardness was oozing out my pores as walked from the parking lot to the hallway. In the hustle and bustle of children’s ministry drop-offs and hospitality snacking, I saw a familiar and welcoming face: that of my husband’s coworker. With a smile and a hug, he said quite simply, “I’m really glad you came.”

Like a fish out of water gasping for air I was, as we peered around searching for a seat to take. My husband led me off to the side as the music began to play. We stood there together and lifted our eyes to the screen where the lyrics of the songs began to shine forth on the crowd.

Not but minutes into the first song, tears formed in my reluctant eyes. Fearing the judgement of appearing weak, I fought to keep my composure. Despite my effort to resist, the words were breaking down the walls of my heart, and the hope of the gospel was piercing my soul. Still fighting, something inside told me to flee–and for a moment, I considered it. Better to leave before I start crying, I thought, than to break down in front of total strangers.

Then, as if a heavenly hand held my shoulder in place, I was instantly stuck standing still. My head rang with a question asked by a gracious voice:

You can stay or you can go,

but the choice you make today

will affect the rest of your life.

That was the moment free will intersected with God’s will.

Suddenly running away seemed no longer an option. It was that hard, but that simple – and in an instant I knew there was no where else to go. All along, my running had no real destination. My pain was too severe, and my inability to fix myself too stark a reality to ignore any longer. In that moment, I looked at my husband and began to sob, “This is just so hard.”

He hugged me, and through welling tears replied, “I know.”

Five years ago, I let go of my earthly father and latched onto my heavenly one. And while this walk has not been without great challenges and trials, my fledgling steps of faith have been strengthened every step of the way by Jesus Christ. He is my comfort and my counselor, my friend and my greatest champion. His strength cloaks over my weaknesses, and his truth is the anchor with which I set sail. Though the swells of life oft grow high and mighty, my Savior is higher and mightier all the more. To have called such a hard heart from the depths of grief and despair is crazy love indeed–an amazing grace from our true and living Hope.

Christine Chappell is a wife and mother of three children. Her manuscript debut Clean Home, Messy Heart was awarded top ten honors in the 2015 WestBow Press New Look Contest, and quickly gained status as an Amazon “Hot New Release” in the category of Christian Living upon its release in May 2016. A former business owner and marketing trainer, she now balances home life with raising children and growing in Christ. Christine has a deep passion for ministry of the Word to women–desiring to bring God's Word to bear on spiritual and emotional battles such as panic, fear, depression, anger, and anxiety.