Yesterday, I really needed to talk to my dad. He’s 92, you know, and communication with him on a regular day is not as easy as sending an email, or even making a call. But yesterday? It was like navigating a mental obstacle course (and I am not so mentally fit in the first place) to figure out how to communicate with him.
First, he’s hearing-impaired. Bless him, but, as my mother used to say about her hearing- impaired father “…he can’t hear it thunder.” Second, I had an extreme case of laryngitis—couldn’t speak above a whisper. Third, even on a regular day, Dad needs a phone without many options. You know, it’s probably just his generation…the generation that was bombarded, for the first time, with bombs, not buttons on electronic gadgets. Remotes, phones, computers, and video games are unsettling to his psyche. Fourth, my computer fell victim to a water spill over the weekend in the Opryland hotel. It was flavored water, in a bottle that had partially frozen in the refrigerator. I was so intent on getting that color out of that expensive carpet, that I was not even noticing that my computer was dyeing and dying. So yesterday, there was no facebook-ing family and relaying messages to Dad via my computer. Fifth, upon attempting to borrow a computer, I realized that we were remotely located for the week and there’s no internet. So we packed up and went to McDonald’s. I guess it was remotely located, too. Starbucks! Yes, it had great internet, but the borrowed computer, I learned, also had a big glitch and quickly went to black screen. Between the baby being really ready by now to be home and the computer issues, I gave it up and we went back to our cabin.
So I just talked to my other Father. The one who hears me even if the phone, the internet, and the cable are all out. He is the One who hears me over the baby’s cries and the clamor of the world. He is the One who is never too busy, never too preoccupied and never hearing impaired. He is the One who is THE Father of Fathers. He is the Father of technology. He is the Father of sound perception. He is the Father of the crying babies and the Father of the nonagenarians. He is the Father who knows what we need before we ask. Best of all, He is the Father of those we love who, for any given reason cannot hear us. The One who knows my needs and hears my prayers knows my dad’s needs and hears his prayers and he does both simultaneously. He is our connection when we are remote and disconnected. He is, in short, the Father whose “eyes are on the righteous and his ears are open to their cries.” He is my Father who will one day open the ears of my earthly father. He will dispel all of my anxious fears about my earthly dad. He is the Father of my father…and yet, He is my own Father. I find a lot of comfort, even from a distance, in that!
…and, if you don’t hear from me for a few days, just talk to my Father. He is keeping up with me and you…simultaneously!
