A Day to Remember . . .

This is it . . . a day I will never forget.

No, I didn't make a mistake . . . I am not talking about September 11 (although that is a day the world will long remember).
September 9 . . . the day my world . . . my security and one of my lifelong anchors was loosed from this world.
September 9, 1990 . . . has it really been 18 years? I can remember so many things about that day . . . and some I don't have a clue. This is what I know. . .
My daddy . . . my special, wonderful . . . pastor, teacher, provider and friend was SO SICK!! Cancer was ravaging his strong, sturdy body, and causing agony of the worst kind.
He had been sick for 3 months . . . and it was getting worse every minute. Much prayer had been made. God heard, and He chose to take my Daddy home to be with Him.
I felt as though my heart was breaking. . . I didn't want to let go, but it was time.
I was there . . . holding his hand . . . on this day to remember.
It was Sunday night. My husband (Daddy's last son-in-law) had gone to the church Daddy turned over to him . . .as soon as he walked in the door from Africa.
Jim told all the saints, "If you want to see your pastor, you better go to the hospital right now". . . and they did.
We lived in a small town . . . had been there for 35 years, so we pretty much took over the hallways and waiting rooms of that hospital. . . but not for long. It was time, and God took Daddy home . . . as I held his hand. . . the last breath was gone.
I can still see and hear and feel everything going on in that room. . . but pretty much everything else was a blur.
The last thing he told me, "Take care of that baby girl (Melinda) and don't let her run out in the road." (This had always been one of his greatest fears about his grandchildren.)
He had lucid moments . . . even through the haze of morphine . . . and he would quote Scripture, or preach a short sermon (as long as his strength would hold out) and he kept telling us to "Hold on, and make it all the way."
Eighteen years . . . and every lesson I ever teach, every class I ever attend, every sermon I hear preached, I can hear my Daddy . . . in my mind, either telling me something I am hearing now. . .
or wiping the tears from his eyes as the Word goes forth. . .
or listening to the HALLELUJAHS that came forth as he rejoiced in the beauty of God's Word. . .
or jumping for joy that God's Word is so ALIVE!
He died . . . still in awe of the one who wrote that Word.
He left a love for that Word in my heart, and this is a day to remember . . . My Daddy . . . the one who passed His love for God's Word and its TRUTH to the next generation . . . that would be ME.
Thank You, Daddy! Thank You, SO MUCH! The day you left us is one I will never forget, and it is a day I will always remember how much you taught me . . . a Day to Remember!
Some of the things you used to say . . .

"Bear down on that when you pray . . ."
"Linda, keep your head screwed on straight, you hear?" (Your advice when Jim called to ask if he could marry me.)
"I hate to get 'em up, I hate to get 'em up, I hate to get 'em up in the mornin' " (sung to the tune of the Army revelry song . . .your favorite way to get me out of bed on a Saturday morning . . . complete with a tickle to the ribs)
"Neither is there salvation in any other, for there is none other name under heaven, given among men, whereby we must be saved" (Acts 4:12). (That verse was the one you quoted at the beginning of every radio program you ever preached or recorded to be aired.)

You lived well, loved hard, gave all, and finished your course. There are many days and times I remember something you said, or the way you would do things. But the legacy I appreciate most is that strong love for God's Word. . . I promise to share that with the next generation, and one day they will have something to remember!