Aftermath noun. The consequences or after effects of something significant.
Does love have an aftermath?
This time last year, almost to the exact date, I found my self having a relaxing night in my room when my phone rang. Normally phone calls don’t bother me but on my screen showed 3 letters that I was never supposed to see, D A D. I let the call go to voicemail but within 10 seconds my phone rang again showing that my dad was urgently trying to get ahold of me. Believing the worse, I answered the phone expecting to hear my father telling me that someone died or something but instead I got the normal dad that proved once again that I needed to call with my caller ID blocked.
And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. (Ephesians 2:1-3 ESV)
Do you remember a time when you made a huge mistake? Like a really big one? And you were not sure if whoever you wronged would forgive you, God included.
I found myself sitting on my bed last year with my heart extremely hurt by words that were said that would never be remembered by the man that spoke them. The man that was supposed to protect my heart. The man that brought me into this world.
The words stung. Mostly because I cling to words like the air I breathe. Too often someone can say something that makes an amazing day horrific or vice a versa.
As many of you have read in my previous blog (dads) I didn’t talk to my dad for almost a year. This story I am about to tell happened a few days ago. I woke up to go to work and decided to call my dad to see how he’s been since I saw him last month. Since then he’s had another surgery. He tells me that it went good which made me happy but then he goes on to tell me how he has to stay home and go through physical struggles while somewhat helping to take care of my grandma who is in her late 70’s. When I got off of the phone the aftermath hit.
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:4-7 ESV)
I sat on the same bed and cried. I gave my Daddy my broken heart. This time He held my heart not because of words that hurt me but because of a compassion that gripped me. My heart hurt. In fact it still hurts. It hurts because I’m not near my dad. It hurts because I wish I could help him financially, emotionally, physically. It hurts because I wish things didn’t happen that makes distance be between us. It hurts because I understand God’s grace and he’s trying to grasp it.
It’s crazy how in a year things change drastically. I never would have believed that I would be sitting on my bed crying because of compassion towards my dad. I think through this year I have understood one of God’s greatest gifts to us as his kids; grace.
Grace has allowed me to understand that I am no different than my dad. That Daddy in Heaven still loves us and desires our hearts in the same way. And He is able to not only have immeasurable grace but he’s able to give it.
I hope this holiday you take time to look back on the gifts Daddy has given you. Take time to cherish those you don’t normally get to see. Take time to allow grace and love to rule your hearts and minds. And I believe you will capture a hope that will lead you through this next year.