The dreaded phone call came from Canada in the middle of a missionary
term in Papua New Guinea. Our housemaid answered and relayed the message
to me when I arrived home for lunch. I'll never forget her exact words:
"Rick, sorry--your father is--what--dead." "Yes," she said in
her usual shy way, "your father is--what--dead."
Surprised?
Shocked! Dad had been well the last time I had talked to him just a
couple of weeks prior. He and mom had travelled to visit us the year
before, and he looked as strong and healthy as ever. How could this be?
How could he be dead?
With tears in my eyes and a lump in my
throat, I called home to mom. Now, understand that long distance phone
calls from Papua New Guinea were of questionable quality and unreliable
at best. It took me, as usual, the better part of an hour to get
through. First, I had to dial and connect to a long distance operator
(often a challenge in itself), then the operator called me back to
confirm my phone number. An hour later, the operator placed the call and
then called back to connect to me after the receiving party answered.
During that hour, memories of dad flooded back--of a father who
never deserted me, of a devoted father who would give of himself for any
of his children; a father who gave to us his all.
Finally, I got
through to Canada. Surprise! "Hello!" Came my father's usual cheery
voice. And in an instant, I realized in quite a different way how
important my father was to me. My dad, whom I had thought was dead, was
alive! Surprise!
We never did find out whose father had died, and
how the misdirected phone call had reached our house. It was a moot
point compared to the thrill of knowing that a loved one whom I thought
might be dead was alive.
That incident, as it turns out, was a
blessing, for in the ensuing time before my father actually died ten
years later, it allowed me time to make my peace with him, and to tell
him of my gratitude and love for who he was and the example that he had
been for me.
As much as hearing dad's voice and knowing that he
was alive was a surprise and relief to me, I can't imagine how much of a
surprise it was for the disciples and friends of Jesus to learn that He
was alive! Unlike me, they had actually witnessed Jesus' death, a
horrible, cruel, and humiliating death that would have led them to
believe that He was never going to be seen alive again.
Earlier
on that first Easter morning, Mary Magdalene and Mary came to the tomb
where Jesus' lifeless body had been laid. The gospel of John says that
it was still dark. John could have been speaking both literally and
metaphorically, for there was darkness over all the earth before
Christ's resurrection. Without His resurrection, our lives would still
be lived in darkness.
If we live with no promise or understanding
of life to come when our earthly life is over - if aging, pain, and
death have the final say - then this is a dark world indeed.
But
because Christ has risen, because of His resurrection and His promise of
eternal life for each of us, we, too, can live confident that better
days are always ahead!
Prayer: Loving God, You, like a loving
father, hold nothing back from us, not even Your beloved Son. May we
live lives worthy of His sacrifice for us, and live with the confidence
of eternal life always. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen!
Rick Potter
Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada
