By Amanda Compton
Those of you who follow my blog know that I lost my father this past January. You also know how extremely difficult it has been for me to live without the man who was a constant force in my life and how I have had to lean into this pain each and every day just to function in this world with a smile. This means lots of tears and prayer (many times in private).
This blog post is different in that it isn't about the pain, but rather the redemption of a man whose conscience was sensitive to truth, who believed truth existed and that it must be applied to and evident in the way we live our lives through each and every decision we make. That said, Daddio and I visited regularly about the nature of God (also known as theology), particularly how the Old and New Testaments converge to tell one story of one redeemer who would come to save His people from their sins.
Below is the testimony leading up to my Daddios's confession in Christ as his Lord and Savior. My prayer is that these words bless you, giving you hope for unsaved loves ones while encouraging a posture of persistent prayer as well as a gentle boldness to stand for truth by telling others "The Good News".
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"Shh! You guys are going to wake Chad up and he has to work in the morning!" said my mom on countless occasions as my dad and I lively debated theology and politics outside the master bedroom window on the backyard deck. These were good (and often frustrating) conversations that, looking back, are likely a part of the story that shaped my dad's journey to Christ.
Through the years I often heard my dad say, "I am not going to bother God with my problems. He has bigger fish to fry. After all, there are starving people out there. My problems are minor compared to that. I have it pretty good."
While I am thankful that Daddio recognized his first-world blessings in contrast to the extreme suffering around the world, I cringed at the thought that he wasn't talking to the One who bestowed these gifts upon him. (James 1:17)
I yearned for Daddio to know the God of the Bible, His perfect nature, His infinite bigness and profound mercy on a fallen people from all nations, tribes and social classes who He chose in him before the foundation of the world (Ephesians 1:4); I yearned for dad to experience the spiritual blessings of a child of God - the promises that transcend the temporal and assure us of the eternal (1 John); I wanted him to know what it meant to walk by faith and not by sight and for him to simply feel the pure and unrelenting love of Christ (2 Corinthians 5:7).
It wasn't until Daddio fell ill in June 2017 that I began to see a softening, if that makes sense. In fact, upon receiving the news that my dad was in the hospital, I sent him a text containing an intimately-tailored prayer just for him, a prayer that was well received and, I think, appreciated.
Daddio made one last trip to St. Louis a couple months later in August. After that trip, his health continued to worsen, which prompted an unplanned visit to Oklahoma in mid-October. Not only was Dad struggling to breathe, his feet were swollen so badly that he could hardly walk. In fact, they looked as if they might pop. We were all concerned about a pending heart attack or stroke and dad wasn't scheduled to see the doctor until later that week. (It is not easy getting in to see a doctor in a small town)
The night before I was to head back to St. Louis, I had just arrived at my brother and sister-in-law's home, where I was staying, when I felt the Lord leading me back to my parents' house to pray for my dad, particularly his swollen feet. I sat there for a minute to be sure that what I was feeling was real.
I don't know how to explain it, but the strength I gained in that moment to back out of the driveway and return to my parents' home to pray for my daddio's feet was nothing short of a miracle. (I used to sweat bullets each time my small group at church closed a Bible study with a popcorn prayer, during which everyone takes turns praying.)
But I did it. I prayed for his feet, specifically for the swelling to go down and for there not to be any heart-related problems. And not only did I pray, my mom and dad also each took turns praying from their hearts. It was a beautifully vivid moment that I will forever carry with me. Within an hour after I left, the swelling in my dad's feet went down - permanently - and the doctor's exam later that week revealed a clear bill of heart health.
Then came December . . .
I had the opportunity to spend Christmas in Oklahoma for the first time since 2006. It was a conflicting decision, as I had to leave my husband and son behind (you can read more about this HERE), but I am so thankful I went because, little did I know, God had a huge surprise waiting for me.
It was a Friday night and I had planned to go roller skating with my sister, niece and nephews. Shortly before everyone was getting ready to leave my parents' house for the skating rink, I felt this overwhelming feeling that I should stay behind. So I went with my gut and opted to watch HGTV with my parents over going skating.
As my mom and I commented back and forth on various home designs and decor, Dad suddenly looked at me while wagging his pointer finger and said emphatically, "There is only one way to heaven." My mom and I looked at each other, both of us wide-eyed and jaws dropped. My mom then asked, "What way is that, Mark?" To which he responded, "Through Jesus Christ."
Tears welled up in both of our eyes. It was surreal . . . so much so that, to this day, I continue to ask my mom if this moment really happened to ensure I was not dreaming. Daddio not only confessed Christ as the one and only way to salvation (John 14:6), but he also did it without prompting. Where I come from, this is called a miracle -- and it did not stop there.
The following days also brought some unexpected and welcome surprises. For instance, my sister recalls Daddio saying he had fuzzy feelings in his heart, like he felt loved. And the night before he passed, Dad asked Mom to come closer so he could see her - as it took all of his energy to open his eyes at that point. As they made eye contact, he expressed his deep love for her, apologized for things that had transpired between them in prior years and then told her that he would see her again.
You see, with salvation comes the realization of the depth of our sin, which leads us to repentance before both God and those who we have wronged. It also makes us realize just how helpless we really are in that we can't save ourselves and, a part from God's grace through Christ, we are dead in our trespasses.
Daddio experienced sweet salvation and, though he was 65 years old, he had been born again of the spirit of Christ, transformed by the renewing of his mind, now able to discern the will of God (Romans 12:2). With this came a peace that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7).
Although his body was passing away, Daddio was able to see God's goodness through his family and home and, in turn, leave this world in peace.
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One last tidbit . . .
The week before I went to Oklahoma for Christmas (December 19, to be exact), I had written down in my devotional journal a specific prayer for my Daddio. I wrote: "I pray for my Daddio's salvation and for him to claim your name out loud."
God is good. All the time.
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