Present with the Lord

As for the saints in the land,

they are the excellent ones,

in whom is all my delight.

~ Psalm 16:3 ~

We are confident, I say,

and willing rather to be absent from the body,

and to be present with the Lord.

~ 2 Corinthians 5:8 ~

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.

~ Psalm 116:15 ~ 

Today we will gather to celebrate the life of one of the Lord's saints. Our beloved Sam Parks. I was suddenly awakened this morning and when I asked the Spirit why, words began to come to me, words of what Sam had meant to me personally and I knew I needed to actually put them down permanently somewhere. I process thoughts and feelings through writing, though I'm sure that is not news to anyone who might read this.

And yet somehow, now that I am actually sitting here with the keyboard in front of me, it's all just a jumbled mess of tears.

Sam has filled a fathering role in my life. He has beautifully reflected to me the heart of my Heavenly Father by bestowing benediction and validation. That's a fancy way of saying he was proud of me and believed in me. He saw my heart. As I write that, I realize he is perhaps the person I have felt least misunderstood by. Ever. And for a gal who has felt profoundly misunderstood at times in her life, that's a pretty big deal.

One of the ways Sam saw me was in my desire to be a mother. I know he was interceding for me before the Giver of all good gifts. (And I am thankful he lived to see the three beautiful answers to those prayers that God has given to us.) I remember one Sunday as I was sharing my longing and broken heart with him, he looked at me and said, "you know what? I think it's time to pursue adoption." We had always been open to adoption but the Spirit used Sam's urging to realize it was indeed time to move in that direction.

Affirming words. They speak love to me. Sam offered them freely. And oh, how loved I have felt.

I remember a time when Sam was experiencing some health challenges. As I recall, things were looking rather uncertain as to whether he would pull through. I felt panic. I cried out to Jesus. I remember saying something like, "I can totally understand why you would want him with you. And why he would want to be with you. But, selfishly speaking, we are not ready to let him go! We need him here." I don't pretend to know the reasons for the exact number of days God had ordained for Sam Parks, but I am eternally grateful that He heard and granted my plea. And though I miss Sam fiercely, I am much more ready to say goodbye now than I was then.

That was probably around the time when my relationship with my Daddy was at its peak of brokenness (and I know my part in that). Sam filled a void and was a very present father to me. The gentle way he offered his wise, godly counsel made it all the more compelling. The pride I could see he felt for who I was as a woman seeking Jesus, made me want to press into Christ all the more.

When I picture Sam in my mind's eye, there is an expression I see that brings a smile to my face. It is of his eyebrows raised and he is saying, "Really?" Something about that captures some of the essence of who I know Sam to be: always ready to learn something new.

Most of my experience with Sam (and I have known him for almost 20 years now) is of a calm, gentle man. But I know he had fiery sparks in there, too. I caught glimpses of them every once in awhile and I knew he wouldn't shrink back from fighting for what he was passionate about.

There is one thing that stands out to me as one of Sam's deepest desires. He spoke of this passion often. It was for his children. He earnestly longed - and faithfully prayed - for all of them to know and experience the love and presence of God as he had. And as I have had opportunity to spend time with many of his children over the years, I see God honoring those prayers. And Sam's faithful walk with Jesus, lived out before them, has played no small part in that.

There is another way Sam blessed me personally: it is the way he loved my husband and was able to speak into his life. We would go and spend weekends with Sam and Bobbie. They were lavish and generous in their hospitality. We felt like royalty. And it was in those times, sitting around their living room, at their table, in their yard, wherever, that Joseph would open up about things going on in his life and Sam (and Bobbie, too!) would be able to speak things over him that he was somehow able to receive. They would often be things I had been praying for him but knew he would not be able to hear from me. I know it is because of how loved and accepted he has been (and felt) by these two that even their admonition was received by him with an open mind, ear and heart. And it kind of scares me just a little bit to see the loss of that father figure in my husband's life.

We have lost someone so very dear to us. In truth, we have been losing him bit by bit for some time now. I am eternally thankful for the time we have had here in Boise to walk with him through this last season of his life here on earth. He remained steadfast to the end. At at time when words often failed him, he would still pray over our meals and it brought such encouragement to know Jesus' presence was still very real to Sam.

Something about our daughter, Zoe, really impacted Sam in his last year of life. Her name means life and somehow it seems that she brought a spark of that to his days. At a time when he was struggling to recall Joseph's name, he still always recognized her and his face would light up. In fact, one of the last few times we saw him, he was pretty withdrawn, not really interacting. But Zoe ran across the room in front of him and he perked up for a split second, long enough to exclaim, "Zoe!"

In July, we were surprised by the arrival of a son. He is primarily named after two Samuels (though there are quite a few other Sams who have confirmed that name for us). Samuel, the prophet you read of in the Bible, and our precious Sam Parks.

Tomorrow my baby Sam will be four months old. And already I am seeing some of that sweet, sensitive and long suffering spirit in him that I saw in his namesake. Thank you, Jesus, for that sweet gift.

For instance, we know that when these bodies of ours are taken down like tents and folded away,

they will be replaced by resurrection bodies in heaven—God-made, not handmade—

and we’ll never have to relocate our “tents” again.

Sometimes we can hardly wait to move—and so we cry out in frustration.

Compared to what’s coming,

living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack,

and we’re tired of it!

We’ve been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home, our resurrection bodies!

The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what’s ahead.

He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we’ll never settle for less.

That’s why we live with such good cheer.

You won’t see us drooping our heads or dragging our feet!

Cramped conditions here don’t get us down.

They only remind us of the spacious living conditions ahead.

It’s what we trust in but don’t yet see that keeps us going.

Do you suppose a few ruts in the road or rocks in the path are going to stop us?

When the time comes, we’ll be plenty ready to exchange exile for homecoming.

But neither exile nor homecoming is the main thing.

Cheerfully pleasing God is the main thing, and that’s what we aim to do, regardless of our conditions.

~ from 2 Corinthians 5 ~