“Whenever two or more gather in My name, I’m there too."
~ Matthew 18:20
When he was too young to
understand, Braxton’s dad told him that someday he’d be part of something
bigger than himself. As he matured; he
learned to appreciate those words by observing a father who’d sacrificed his
time, money and energy for the country he loved.
Today after a brief trip to the cemetery that honored his
late soldier-dad, he glanced over at the old guitar and sensed the connection
Dad had been talking about.
A layer of dust now covered it like a warm blanket. Somehow he felt unworthy of touching it; let
alone picking it up. It had been such a
big part of his childhood, hearing its amazing notes flow without hesitation,
but only when played by his father’s delicate fingers. It
would probably stay silent in that corner of the room for the rest of eternity.
He recalled their last time together; Dad was heading overseas
again. Sitting on the sofa facing the
guitar, he could almost hear his dad telling him that it was the second best
thing in his life. “You were the first,”
he told Braxton. Then he played a little
Johnny Cash.
As usual, Dad was proud to serve his country. He never complained, but he hated being away
from his wife and son. If Braxton had
known that it would be their last time together, he would have begged him to not
to leave. Dad would have left
anyway! He believed it was his duty to
keep America safe.
He’d promised to teach Braxton how to play when he
returned. Then he placed the guitar
there, where it remained, untouched, collecting dust.
“I miss you, Dad,” Braxton cried out loud to no one in
particular. He stood from the couch and
headed off to bed. Half way there, he
turned around, picked up the guitar and wiped the dust off with a moist towel. It looked as if Dad had never left.
Braxton touched the instrument’s bare wood; feeling
something he couldn’t explain and probably would never be able to. It was the connection Dad must have felt all
those times he played for other people; a link that bonds us as brothers and
sisters in Christ.
For the first time since Dad died, Braxton felt him
again. He would learn to play this old
guitar. Because as long as he kept
playing, Dad would be there beside him . . . coaching him, reassuring him,
encouraging him.
For every person, every animal, every thing is part of the
same spiritual community - even in death. We are fashioned from "God stuff,"
making us all equal to each other in His eyes.
Heavenly Father, our parents are often the
best model of You in our lives. We owe
them a debt that can never fully be repaid.
For any who have died, grant them eternal rest and let the perpetual
light shine upon them. Amen
