The Object of My Hate / The Essence of My Love

My father is on his deathbed. 

Silly term. We're all on our deathbeds if you give it a second thought. He lies in my living room. His hospital bed propped upright as he wriggles and squirms in the agony of life leaving his hostile body. His limbs begin to freeze. He is losing the very essence of where life lies. The torment of it all, too painful to describe. I sit, and watch. His legs twitching as his blood rampages his arteries. How unbearable the pain must be. Always had an estranged and damaged relationship with my daddy. A broken man, never having learned to love, he never gave love, cause he never had love, and never knew it could be learned. Then one day in 2008 God awoke love in me to share. And as he sat there and watched TV I whispered, “I forgive you.” The Lord renewed in me a will to love a man who never hugged me in my life. And here we are after years of care and all I wanna say is “don’t go.”  How does one go from being the object of my hatred to the essence of my love? Jesus you can raise the dead from death and you can give new life. I’ve prayed for his healing. But 82 is a good long life, it’s my prayer now that he knows you somehow because he has always rejected you. You say in your word your not slow as we count slowness but rather patient because you don’t want anyone to perish. For this I thank you my Savior, because I know you’re trying to give him time to choose you before he sees you. Please call him your own, and write his name in your book and help me be at peace with whatever you decide. I wanna shout it in his ear that he should let go of his pride, to be your bride is the best prize to be won. If we run the race with endurance. In my wildest dreams, I could not imagine a better goal than to know you, to love you, and to be known by you, most of all. Save him sweet savior. Save Him, my heavenly father. I forgive him, I give my all to you, do with me as you please. Grip his heart and open his hand and help him reach out to you. Give him a lucid moment and claim him as your son. No matter what you choose, your battle is already won. Take my life, all of me. Forgive me for my Jonah streak and in my quiet loneliness take all I have to give. It’s the least I can offer you, since you gave all for me to live.

Just the beating of my heart...