Sue

"It's always nice to do nice things for nice people" was my dad's favorite saying, and not only did he say it, he lived it in many ways. Dad was a loving father and a very fun grandfather. He befriended people in the nursing home, served Meals on Wheels and was a Red Cross volunteer--always going beyond the call of duty to make someone feel special. He retired early to be at my mother's side during her battle with cancer and death. To know Jack was to love him and to ME. . . he was the best Dad in the world.

Dad was living a good, active life at age seventy-seven when he went in last summer for a routine doctor's exam and was found to have cancer. This was such a shock as my father had not been sick a day in his life, never spent time in a hospital. . . not even when he was born! Being the strong guy that he was, he began searching for treatment. He drove from his home in Tennessee to Minnesota to get a second diagnosis at the Mayo Clinic. He was no doubt the only person to ever show up without an appointment! Mayo Clinic confirmed that he did indeed have Stage IV pancreatic cancer that had spread to other major organs. Within a matter of days, Dad starting having symptoms; within a couple of weeks he was hospitalized, and two and a half months later he was facing death.

For me, the crisis was more than terminal cancer. My father didn't know the Lord as his personal Savior. During my childhood, a Sunday morning meant Dad was in his chair reading the paper, drinking his coffee while my mother hustled us four girls out the door to church. Dad came to church with us on Christmas and Easter; joking that it was time to check the roof for leaks. During my college years I began my own search for the Lord and accepted him as my personal Savior with my soon-to-be husband. God became the center of our marriage and new family, quite unlike my childhood. We would take my dad to church with us and try to share the truth with him, but it was uncomfortable and seemed fruitless. For the first time in my life, my dad and I didn't understand each other.

After his cancer diagnosis, my husband Dave and I explained to Dad that by faith he could accept Jesus and even though his life on earth was nearly over, a new life in Christ awaited him. We took comfort that the staff at Wooddale, our small group Bible study, BSF friends and many near and far were praying for my father's turning to Christ. I remember feeling that time was running out, and maybe my father wouldn't be going to heaven where I would see him one day. Then the Lord began teaching ME about HOPE and GRACE.

When Dad seemed to be taking a turn for the worse, I went to be with him. Traveling by myself, I arrived at the airport and looked for a taxi to take me to my father. I thought it was odd that the taxi driver had his wife in the back seat and when they learned of my situation, they asked if they could pray with me. These two strangers and I prayed in their taxi cab late at night for my father and his salvation. I am convinced they were God's way of saying He was with me--and I should trust Him.