My father began inspiring me from as far as I can remember. As a graphic designer, he painted fine art on the side. His drawings and paintings filled our house from before I was born. My dad often used his talents just to bless us, or our friends, our church, and our community. His creativity was always evident. My father was committed to excellence, believing that practice does not make perfect, rather perfect practice makes perfect. He did not allow us to be content with anything less than our full efforts. Mediocrity was not an option. And most importantly, he used his talents for God, knowing that He is the Master Artist.

God gave my wife and I the perfect time with my dad before it was time for him to leave this world. After living a year overseas, my wife and I visited the US and went on a road trip along the coast of California along with my mother and father. My relationship with my father as a teenager was rough. I was ignorant and didn’t see how I was disrespecting my father. Over the years however, our relationship mended and really things seemed to be healed by the time we took our trip. We hiked a mountain the last night together, looking out towards the Carson Valley. I remember hearing a thought in my head, telling me to tell my dad I loved him. Though I didn’t, I found out later we were both thinking similar things. The next morning my parents left for Chicago.

A week later, I received a phone call from my mom, explaining that my father, who was physically active and fit, was having a heart attack. We started praying, but shortly afterwards found out that he didn’t make it.

I wept a lot, but what is amazing, looking back, was how much God had prepared us for that moment and how much His comfort overflowed in that moment. He was surrounding us with His grace and the assurance that He was in control and it was my dad’s time. This is God’s story, He’s writing it. And though my dad left us, he went on ahead. And we have work to do here before we meet him with the Lord.