I awoke from my bed, but the world felt so dark. As I set my feet on the floor, I felt as though I had been given a cloak of heaviness around my shoulders.
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“This is the day.” The Father said with a lump in His throat.
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As I did my morning routine, drinking my coffee and eating my breakfast. I put on a sermon to help chase away the dark clouds. Unfortunately, by the time the sermon was over, the clouds were still there. I could feel myself just sinking into despair and wanting to cry. The trouble was, I didn’t know why.
I continued to plod along with my day, wondering why this burden was still so heavy, so palpable. “Why do I feel like I’m slipping into a deep darkness?” I wondered.
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The clock ticked by, and the Father and the Son stayed on task watching each of my family members below.
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My local family decided to go out to eat. My sadness was temporarily chased away by the little people around me. I snapped pictures to capture their miniature size and larger-than-life personalities. A family friend spotted us and came over to say hello. Sometime during the meal, a call came through. “I’ll call him back later.” My mom said.
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Are you ready? The Father said. The Son and the Holy Spirit nodded somberly.
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We all went home and off to our corners to rest. Linda to her house with her little ones. Jess to her bed to nap. Me to my room and Mom to make a call.
Ring
Ring
Ring
Having her speaker on, I heard the ringing, but she got no reply. A little concerned about not connecting, she decided to do the next thing and head to the store to get my dad’s bran which he put on everything.
Feeling restless, I got up to put on one of my favorite movies and to write cards. Writing cards should help this unwanted lingering companion named sadness that had crept back in following our lunch. Not realizing this would be my companion for longer than I had ever anticipated.
My notes and the movie never got finished. The movie was never picked up and watched by me again… Because while I watched and scribbled, I was startled by my mom’s presence back so quickly. Something was wrong…
“Dad’s been in an accident.”
Time seemed to freeze as we waited for a call for more information from the police officer. In the meantime, calls were flying in and out as we grappled with getting more information and telling the rest of the family. In between the calls, we got the insurance cards. “In and out of consciousness” was the report, so we told ourselves he could be shaken up, but he’s still alert, right?
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“Stay close, Son. They’re going to need it. They’re going to need us.” The Father said as His Son carried out His order. —————
Finally, after roughly two hours, the call we were waiting for came. My sister’s voice echoed through the walls of the house we’d grown up in. The same house my parents got married in.
“Mom, you’ve got to come… I don’t know if he’s going to make it. The doctor has given him a 10% chance to live.”
With each piece of clothing we packed, our hearts broke. We could hardly breathe. Any sudden movement felt like I would collapse, and we had to get to Dad. I said the only words that I could utter, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.”
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“I’m here. I’m here. You cannot see me or feel me, but I am here.” The Son said, despite knowing I could not see Him or feel Him.
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My sisters, Mom, nephew, and I crammed into my car. It would be the longest nine hours we would ever drive. Holding our breath as we desperately prayed that my car, as full as it was, could fit one more person on the way home – my dad. Calls came in and went out as my mom sat as a passenger. Despite it being the middle of the night, no one but my nephew could sleep. Linda, Jessica, and I all rotated driving.
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“How are they doing?” The Father knew but asked the Son.
“They are getting closer.” The Son said.
“And Rachel?” The Father said.
“Ramon came to be with her until Tyler could get there.” The Son responded.
“And David?” I’m with him
“And Brian?” I’m with him
“Stephanie?” I’m with her.
“Alean?” I’m with her.
“I know, and we will remain with them. You know how painful this is.” The Father said as He reached out and embraced His Son.
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Pulling in at 4 am, we looked for a way to get into the locked hospital until off to the side entrance; we spotted Ramon, who hugged us all. It wasn’t too long before that the roles were reversed. Ramon had called my mom when his twin brother, a marine, was killed in action.
We followed Ramon as he led us to the surgical intensive care unit. Mom went in first and alone.
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The Father nodded to the Son. “I’m with her.” He said back to His Father.
“This is their hell week.” The Father said to His Son, His Spirit, and heaven’s armies. “We are going to rally our people. Tell the children. They will feel alone, but I want them to know I will show up through my kids. My body needs to hold them and hold them close because Bill, my son and kingdom servant Bill, is coming home.”
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As my parents shared a moment no one wishes for, my mom would never be alone because she had the prayers from all over the world coming her way and heaven standing behind her and beside her.
One by one, my siblings made their way to the SICU room in Albany, Georgia. Once we were all together, we were told we’d be asked to meet with a doctor. We piled in a tiny room.
The doctor’s voice was even keeled and factually cold… “The Bill you once knew is no longer there.” I wanted to scream and run out of the room. Over and over, the doctor repeated the injuries my dad sustained. On a scale of head trauma from one to five, five being the worst, your husband and Father is at a level four. “Stop talking” was what I was screaming internally. “Shut up! This is my dad you’re talking so callously about.” The doctor continued, “Even if he was younger, this injury is nearly impossible to come back from.” My sister Linda couldn’t take anymore, and her body went limp. My sister Rachel quickly got alcohol to awaken her.
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“Father?” The Son said. “Yes, Son.” The Father replied. “The Zink’s are on their way.” The Son said. “They are the perfect ones. Thank you!” The Father responded with pride. “My kids are coming through, and my other kids certainly need them.” He said with pride in His voice.
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As my siblings and I struggled to see my larger-than-life father lying so lifeless, our heads swirled as our hearts shattered. Food had lost its taste. Our lives had been shaken like particles in a snow globe. We lost track of the minutes, hours and days. Every second we wanted to stand guard for our dad as he had done for us our whole growing up lives. We wanted to be strong for Mom as she had been so strong for us. We purposely would make outlandish comments like, “Dad! The Dolphins are going to the Superbowl.” Just to see if he would respond. He didn’t.
We prayed. Every. Single. Day. As much as we could on our knees on the floor, it didn’t matter, we knew we needed a miracle, and we were desperate for it. We even prayed with the hospital staff in between the doctor’s rotations and the nurses’ vital evaluations.
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And slowly, people came through. God’s people came.
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Friends and family members from out of the state came. Prayers flooded in from all over the globe—messages of hope and encouragement. One stuck with me, though… “Christi, pray for God’s will to be done.” My wise friend said. I didn’t like that message, though. I didn’t want God’s will. I just wanted my dad again.
As he remained in a coma, the churches rallied. In an area we had never visited before, these families brought food, hugs, toys for the kids. Friends babysat and camped out in a hotel for days on end. Other friends covered our hotel rooms and even bought Mom a car.
Feeling as though God was deaf to the cry for my dad, He was sending provision in ways I could not deny.
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“We are getting ready for a transition. Be gentle. This is Jenni’s second husband and David’s second Dad. He’s a great dad and grandpa. This wound will be deep, but he has finished his race… He’s only got a few earthly hours left.” The Father said to the Son with tears in his own eyes. The Son said, “Father, I pray they don’t grow bitter and instead trust me with their pain because I will remain faithful.”
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Before the rest of my family approved the transition to hospice, my mom told me the news. It was too much to bear. So, I wandered aimlessly down the white halls of the hospital. I had no idea where I was going.
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“You got her?” The Father said to the Son already knowing that He did. “Watch.” The Son said to the Father.
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Finally finding a bench, I sat down. Two sets of feet walked toward me and stopped. I looked up to see Mr. & Mrs. Zink. They had just been through hospice with his brother and her brother-in-law only four months before. It dawned on me at that moment that they chose to walk these hospital walls with us, despite their pain. They stepped into our world as it crumbled just to catch us in the hallway and hold us when we fell apart.
That night, I laid in a random hotel bed. My sister, Linda, slept next to me. Her presence is always a comfort. Despite her presence, I couldn’t sleep. I could almost feel my chest cavity caving in; there was too much pain in my heart to bear let alone sleep. The day’s events were replaying in my head and crushing my heart. I got up to find a more secluded location.
“God, I’m not ready to go on with my life without my dad” was my prayer from the bathroom floor.
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“I know, but I will help you…“ The Father whispered, but I couldn’t hear.
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I drove as slow as I possibly could, hoping that at some moment, we’d get the news that dad had been healed and didn’t need to go to hospice. I felt like the moment I drove into the facility; I was giving up. I felt like I was operating in slow motion, still trying to wrap my head around what life currently was. It felt like an awful movie in which I had no control to stop watching.
We camped out in hospice and only having to leave once because death had taken another patient from the facility. It was quiet. It was a lodge. A place I wished we were celebrating a family reunion, not saying goodbye to my dad.
Alean stayed through the week; I remember during our brief time there, discovering she had finally been worn down by us girls and painted her nails. She even added glitter on top. It made me smile.
Death had never been so prevalent; yet we all knew God had mapped out this road for us to take… On Sunday, July 23rd, my dad went home…
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“Welcome home, my good and faithful servant!” The Father said enveloping my dad, who was already on his knees, into His arms. When the Father and Son lifted my dad up, they said. “Come! We want to introduce you to some people!”
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It was on a double-lane road that my dad had an accident that ultimately took his life. My Mom and Dad paved a double-lane road for us with their lives. After my dad passed, those two lanes turned into an eight-lane highway. My Dad’s and Mom’s work only expanded after my dad’s death. Whether through mothering, schooling, YouTubing, Government Service, Shepherding, Writing, Gardening, Teaching, or Scanning for new life, this life was not about my dad, but about service to His King. The same King that held us secure during our most turbulent times. The same King that sent his people to surround us, He’s now has sent us to hold others in their pain.
The Father sent His Son to endure anguish for us so that in the times of heartbreak and devastation, we have a High Priest who sympathizes with us. He is for us and not against us.
The whole outlook of mankind might be changed if we could all believe that we dwell under a friendly sky and that the God of heaven, though exalted in power and majesty, is eager to be friends with us. — A.W. Tozer
Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain. John 12:24
