"A dad who thanks the Lord each day for his precious girl - A daughter who believes there's none like him in this whole world..." Video link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ko391vtLR1I
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This is a song I wrote with a friend of mine, Carol Skipper. Carol writes the devotional "Apron Strings". The song was inspired by her relationship with her dad, Mr. James Oliver. He was "a humble man of prayer". Now, he is with his Lord. Our prayer is that the song honors him, and encourages many other daughters and dads.
Here's a couple of Apron Strings Devotionals from Carol Skipper that will shed more light on this song:
10/8/03
Good Morning....
Jesus loves You!!
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It's About Love
My dad was recently diagnosed with lung cancer and after prayer and consideration, we decided to bring him home and trust the Lord. Chemo is not really an option because he has so many other health issues. Radiation could promise nothing except maybe some shrinkage and four weeks of time away from his family. He wanted one thing only. He wanted to come home and be with us. I knew that if God helped us care for him this long, we could go further.
God is certainly here. He always has been. He's opening my eyes to so much and showing me what's really important. Suddenly, the busyness of "stuff" no longer matters. Yesterday, I rolled dad's wheelchair to the front door and opened it wide. The weather was so beautiful and the children were playing in front of us. We both just basked and watched them. I was so honored to be a part of watching this man absorb his grandchildren.
After his amputation in April 2001, we just moved to this house and we began to get the building ready. He had four weeks of rehab in the nursing home. The day I was to pick him up I was scared to death. I thought, "How can I do this?" This is a whole new arena for me. Dad sensed my fear and he said to me with such confidence, "Together, we will win." ( He meant us and the Lord ) He was right. Every thing that I worried about was taken care of.
After Ben graduated, he and I became pinch hit caretakers for Dad. The ironic thing is, Dad cared for Ben the first five years of his life while I worked at the phone company, and now Ben is taking care of Dad in his senior years. Only Ben knows how to transfer him to the bed in a way that isn't excruciating. Even when the ambulance drivers come for transport the hospital, we have to get Ben's help. I used to tell people that Ben's future was on hold while we were taking care of Dad. I don't say that anymore. Ben is doing what he's supposed to be doing right now, no matter if people think he should be in college. College will still be there. This is a monumental moment in our lives, and if we are not careful, we could miss it. It's all about loving God with all our hearts, minds, souls, and strength and loving others as ourselves. It's about honoring my father and letting him live his life in dignity. It's about absorbing each other and not magnifying the faults. It's about love. I am 41 years old and I finally see that. I hope others don't have to wait that long.
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God Bless you all, and remember:
Jesus loves you and I do too!
In Christ!!
Carol Skipper
Justaservn@aol.com
10/10/03
Good Morning....
Jesus loves You!!
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The Homecoming
It all happened so fast. One minute we are in the emergency room and the next minute we are driving away from the cemetery. How can this be? And how can I be having such peace? Maybe I should back up and explain. What do you think? ( gentle smile )
It was Monday morning, September 22, 2003. I woke up early and was glad everyone else was still asleep. I needed some quiet time with the Lord, badly. I did my usual stuff. I turned on the coffeepot and made two sausage biscuits for Dad. I wrapped the biscuits in foil so they would be warm when he woke up. Then, I sat down in my green recliner and sighed. I knew my walk with Jesus had gotten complacent, but I began to lose sight of how to get back. I felt so far away from Him and I thought He might be tired of my junk by now. I suddenly remembered what I tell other people. "Talk to Jesus just like you are talking to me. It's okay to leave off thee and thou. Just pour your heart out as if you were talking to your best friend, because that's what you are doing." So, that's what I did that morning. I laid it out. I told Him, point blank, " I don't trust you the way I need to. I don't love you as much as I should, and I don't feel close to you. I've lost my way."
After this outpouring, my eyes noticed something across the room. My mother-in-law gave me this little cross ornament a few months back and I hung it over my fireplace, When I saw that cross, God began to speak to my heart. "Carol, here is your roadmap. When you lose sight of me or wander off, go back to the Cross and leave your burdens. Then get up and let's continue on." I felt a pull to kneel under that little cross and repent. When I got up, there were no bells and whistles, no hallelujah choruses, and no accolades. I only sensed a quiet resolve to move on. And I did. My day went on as usual, well almost. I took Daddy's breakfast to his room and noticed that his swelling had increased. Dad had diabetes and congestive heart failure and the swelling was something that was becoming familiar to us. He was on diuretics and they helped some, but this time the swelling was outrunning them. His home health nurse was due that day so I decided to seek her opinion. When she arrived, her concern was mutual and she called his doctor. We were informed to go to the emergency room. I arranged for a limo in the form of an ambulance because it was storming and because Dad's swelling caused his heart and lungs to work overtime and simple transfers became major undertakings.
When we arrived at the emergency room, we may as well have taken a number. It was an incredibly long wait. I wouldn't have minded the wait normally, but my patience was tested by my Dad's pain and discomfort, coupled with lack of compassion by some members of the hospital staff. A simple request was either ignored or delayed. I was getting weary. Once again, I hung my head and cried out to God while my sweet daddy laid there on that uncomfortable slab. When I raised my head, there were still no bells and whistles. Just that same quiet resolve that I felt that morning. I decided to see if I could find the laundry room because my request for a pillow was obviously forgotten or denied. I couldn't find a pillow but I did find a blanket. I figured I could fold it up and tuck it under Dad's infected leg. Dad was an amputee and his remaining leg was compromised. As I entered his room with the blanket, there was a small voice behind me that said, "Excuse me." I made room for this voice to enter, and then it happened. God visited. It was in the form of this sweet, meek woman disguised as the doctor on call. I sensed the Holy Spirit immediately and as we conversed, God was moving. Her relationship to Christ was so evident. Fruit was hanging off of her and I was picking freely. Things started happening after she arrived. She arranged for a hospital room and an IV started for his fluid. She mentioned something about his blood count being low and that's when the storm began. I never saw her after that evening but I thought about how appropriate it was for God to send one of His angels to comfort me before the storm began. The rest of the week was a whirlwind. Words like biopsy, tumor, and malignant flooded our hospital room. I watched Dad stiffen as the verdict came in. I grabbed his hand and held on tight. My mind drifted back to March of this same year. Dad had a heart attack and was placed in ICU with a ventilator. The doctor told me back then that Dad may not leave the hospital. My heart lurched and I cried out, "No, Lord, no! We need more time. I still have things to say to him!" God heard that prayer and gave us six more months. Unfortunately, like the Israelites, we take God and others for granted and get back into our complacent junk, thinking, "Everything's cool, now." Even though I did get complacent after that, I began to feel God's tender mercies showing me that I have even more time, only this time, it may not be as much. I began to sense deep in my spirit that the key word here is quality, not quantity.
Friday, September 26th, 2003.
The doctor suggested I take Dad home and make him comfortable in his remaining days. Chemo wasn't an option because of his other health issues, and radiation was only promising some shrinkage, but not more time. It was obvious that we needed a miracle and we got one, but it wasn't in the form of an earthly healing. I went to Dad's hospital bed after the doctor left, and with my tears falling all over him, I explained the situation to him. True to the constant of his character, Dad was comforting ME, even though this news was traumatic. I said, "Dad, what do you want to do?" He simply said, "I want to go home." Now, at that time, I believe he meant he wanted to come home with us and be with my family and me. Dad has been with us for the last 10 years since Mom died. He didn't want the radical radiation because it entailed precious time away from his family. I initially arranged for him to come home the following day. I had planned to move a futon bed to his room so that I could be near him. As I was leaving his hosptial room, the Dr. asked me to sign a "do not resuscitate" form and when they placed a band around Dad's arm with those words, something clicked inside of me. I made immediate arrangements for him to come home whether the room was ready or not. I wanted to make sure that I could do all that was within my power to honor my father and his request to go home. But as I write these words, I realize it was more than that. I believe that God wanted me to take him home that day. I'll never forget when the ambulance pulled up and we opened those double doors in the back. I said, "Welcome home, Papa!" He was grinning from ear to ear. My dad had the most beautiful smile in the world and when I saw it that evening, I knew that everything was going to be all right.
Saturday, September 27th, 2003
I spent Friday night in his room and it was a restless night for both of us. However, Saturday was a new day and I was going to make the best of it. My goal was to spend as much time with this man as I was allowed and not miss a beat. I only left his room when necessary and if I had to leave the house, it was to do what was needed and come right back. No dallying. Dad's Hospice Admissions Nurse arrived that morning and we spent part of that day talking to her, answering questions, asking questions. I found out she was a Christian and I was so glad. After she left, I rolled the wheelchair to his front door and the children were playing outside. We both just basked and watched them. We talked some, we were quiet at other moments. He told me some things about his childhood, and I thought, "Man, we've been together all this time and I am finding out things about him that I never knew." How we waste time! It's funny how it takes situations like this to open our eyes. I must've said "I love you" a million times to Dad. He said "I love you, too" each time and never seemed tired of that exchange. I kissed him. I touched him. I smelled his hair. I am getting emotional right now because I remember how wonderful it all was. I thank God so much for giving me that wonderful gift. How merciful He is! He knew I needed it. He knew we needed it. Saturday was a good day.
Sunday, September 28th, 2003
It is at this point that changes are more evident. I had his breakfast ready and his coffee made. Two sausage biscuits sat there getting cold because I couldn't get Dad to wake up. I tried, but he would mumble something and drift off to sleep. I called the Hospice nurse and she came and checked him. After awhile, he finally woke up and allowed us to transfer him to his wheelchair. I felt a little silly after she stated that he was just tired but there was still something inside of me that knew that my dad was going "into labor." There was a different air about today and I was doing my best to tune in. Charlie and Phyllis came by in the afternoon and prayed for him and anointed him with oil. Charlie shared the scripture about Jesus and the disciples in the boat and how Jesus was awakened by the disciples and calmed the storm. He said, "Peace, be still." ( Mark 4:37-39 ) Dad received the word and he and I knew that Jesus was in our boat during this storm. That evening he seemed distant. The separation between flesh and spirit was becoming more evident.
Monday, September 29th, 2003
I don't remember a whole lot about this day, other than the fact that the changes are still progressing. I ran out that morning to pick up a prescription for a Duragesic patch for Dad to wear. This patch is time-released and the pain medication would offer one constant level of relief as long as the patch lasted. I thought about how God had a patch on me, too. I had one constant level of peace during this whole process. I like to think of it as my "Fruit of the Spirit Patch." Later, Hospice and Jesus sent Jenny. Jenny indicated she knew the Lord and again, I was glad. Not just for ourselves but for her as well. As I kept my focus on God, He placed a concern for others in my heart. I began to see outside my box and God's desires were once again becoming my own. Jenny had a beautiful melodic laugh and a sweet smile. It was a beautiful combination. After she left and the day wore on, Dad became more stoic. By that evening, he was staring at his food as if he wasn't sure how to get it to his mouth. I fed him what little he would eat and I began to realize that time was short.
Tuesday, September 30th, 2003
This day was special. Mike Wilhoit came over and sang some songs for Dad while playing his guitar per my request. I wanted him to serenade Dad with his anointed music. Mike is a Christian songwriter and God poured out over 40 songs into his heart this past year. Dad tried to tune in while Mike sang but I could tell that some serious spiritual stuff was taking place. I initially asked Mike to come and play for Dad, but in a lot of ways I think it was more for me. As Mike was leaving, I asked him to pray about something. I wanted him to see if God had a song for my Dad. Little did I know that God wasn't just thinking about my Dad. More about that later. Mike agreed to be open to the Spirit and see what God brings. As this day wore on I sensed that Dad's labor was about to go into the heat of the moment anytime. He was talking some, but also drifting off into a place that I was not allowed. He was still having trouble eating and I had the honor of feeding him again. He actually slept good that night and so did I.
Wednesday, October 1st, 2003
I woke up weepy that morning and I couldn't shake it. Dad was still progressing and there was no turning back, unless God had other plans. I felt like we were on course and He would give me strength as I needed it. My emotions however, were doing their thing and that was okay. The phone rang and it was the Hospice nurse. This was Christine and she was informing me that she was Dad's primary nurse. As I answered the phone and heard her voice, I broke out in uncontrollable sobs. Her kind soothing voice eased my heart and she encouraged me to let someone come help bathe Dad. I agreed. Initially, I wanted to do that myself until I felt like I needed help. I was at that point and she was sensitive to that. Christine's visit was nothing less than refreshing and she was accompanied by Jill, the Hospice social worker. Jill had a great ear and a golden heart and Christine had the sense of humor that our family needed. All of these elements were just what Dr. Jesus had ordered. God truly does supply all our needs according to His riches through Jesus.
Mike emailed me to let me know a song was being birthed. He had the second verse completed but not the first. He said that was the first time that he ever wrote a song backwards. He wanted some input on my childhood days with Dad to get the first verse. I let him know I would think about that.
Later that day, I met Lorraine. Hospice sent her out to give Dad a bath. As she sat in a chair and told me what supplies she needed, I asked her if she knew the Lord. She did. She was in that complacent place I was in at the beginning of this article. I understood that place well. My brother Larry and his wife came by for a quick visit and prayed with Lorraine. After she gave Dad a good bath, my friend Debbie stopped over. She and I also prayed for Lorraine and God was moving. By evening, Dad is getting closer to Jesus and farther from me.
Thursday, October 2nd, 2003
This day marked significant changes. The night before was sleepless for both of us. Dad was calling out names and saying "off the wall" stuff. It wasn't off the wall to him, but I couldn't make heads or tails out of some of it. He called out my brother Gary's nickname, "Hashota" and he also called out Larry's name. Larry is my oldest brother. He called out for his Mama. She died almost 30 years ago. He was now in transition. Gary and Allen left work early and stayed most of the day with us. Allen is my fourth oldest brother. Gary is the second. Christine came by and noted the progress. Her sense of humor was once again what we needed. She loved on Dad as if he were her own dad. That blessed me.
This would be the last day that Dad would transfer to his wheelchair. While in the chair, he barely noticed people coming in and out. He would speak only in acknowledgements. No matter how much he was separating, he would always get a twinkle in his eye when the children entered his sight. And he would always love on them and kiss them when they came up to him. Iona and Richard came this evening and blessed us with a visit. Iona prayed for Dad in a very loving way. My heart was touched. The baby was going deeper in the birth canal. I didn't bother calling Hospice because I sensed there was not much they could do at this point. God was with us and it was more than enough.
Friday, October 3rd, 2003
This day was significant. I could feel Dad letting go of my hand as Jesus was reaching for the other one. We were hanging on by the fingertips now. Jenny came by today and checked his vitals. Still on course. Christine guessed yesterday that Dad might have about a week. I sensed it wouldn't be that long, but I had no idea how long it was actually going to be. I talked to Mike on the phone today and shared a story from my past that might help finish the song. Here is the story: When I was little, Dad was in the Navy and when I woke up in my crib, ( I was in a crib til I was about 3 ) and find a pack of Lifesavers by my pillow, I would know Daddy was home! Short but sweet, and yet my most memorable moments.
Lorraine came by later to give Dad his bath and Jill ( the social worker ) came by as well to check on us. Jill prayed with me and left while Lorraine was bathing Dad. When I went back in to be with Lorraine, she asked me a question. She gestured toward Dad and asked me, "Why does God allow this?" She was referring to the suffering, although Dad was not suffering. That was something else. I asked God not to allow Dad to suffer through this process and He granted that. Yes, he did have the patch and pain meds and they may have been instrumental, but I know just as well He could have answered without those things. When Lorraine asked me the question, I prayed inwardly for an answer and Stephen came to my mind. The Book of Acts tells about Stephen the Martyr and how he was stoned for sharing truths about Jesus. I said, "Do you know the story of Stephen? " She nodded. I said, "You know, Lorraine, those stones HAD to hurt. But Stephen's spirit was untouched.
Acts 6:15
And all that sat in the council, looking stedfastly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an angel.
Acts 7:55-56
But he, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up stedfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God,
And said, Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God.
(KJV)
I pointed down to my Dad and said, "Lorraine, my father's spirit is untouched, even though the flesh may pass away. That's what truly matters. Since the fall, we deal with that, but since Jesus, we have the victory. There is no sting in death and the grave has no victory. " I knew that was God because I wouldn't have seen the story of Stephen as an answer, but as I moved my mouth, He showed me the relationship. When we are secure in Christ, there is no sting in death, no matter the circumstances.
Allen came by that day and stayed through the night. We called Hospice later that evening because Dad's breathing was changing. Angie, the on call nurse came by and once again, God visited. The Spirit of God was very strong in her and she lovingly explained that it was getting close. She likened it to labor and I almost fell out of my chair. I thought God showed that to me exclusively. She gently mentioned that we should call the family in. And then, she prayed with us and left. The only word that Dad said that whole day was "Coke." He drank a whole one in small sips, but I began to notice that he wasn't able to suck from the straw as easily. The baby is coming soon. Gary brought his family over and Larry and Lougenia came by. Allen was still there and we all said things that we needed to. One by one, my brothers got their privacy with Dad. There was one brother that was not there, and even though circumstances wouldn't allow him to make it, we stood in the gap for Mike. I believe Dad understood. The night wore on….
Saturday, October 4th, 2003
The Homecoming
At 2am, my brothers were getting tired, so they decided to get a little sleep, since it looked like Dad was resting peacefully at this point. They all left and in the still of the night I pulled my chair closer to Dad's bed. I propped a pillow on his bed and sat in the chair and leaned on the pillow. I put my hand on his and closed my eyes. I dozed and Dad grabbed my hand and shook me. This happened about three times and then this scripture came to my mind:
Matt 26:39-41
And he went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.
And he cometh unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What, could ye not watch with me one hour?
Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.
I got the message. Later about 4am, I called my son Ben to watch with me. I truly didn't trust myself. I've never been so tired in my life. Ben sat with me and we continued to wait as the baby's head was crowning. My neice Shannon came in about 5:30 am. She drove in from Virginia Beach and she was very tired. We wept together and she got to tell Dad what she needed to. At 6am I called Hospice again and Angie was still on call. I mentioned the restlessness and noted that his head had to be tired from bobbing back and forth. She informed me she would bring something to help. Right after she got there, Shannon was going to catch some sleep and she told Dad she loved him. The last thing my daddy said was given to Shannon. He said, "I love you, too." Angie explained the medicine dosages and we prayed again. She left. This was 9:30am.
At 10:30, I looked at the clock and gave Dad some more drops. As I was massaging his cheeks, his remaining brother and wife walked in. I tried to awaken Dad to acknowledge them but he already had one foot in each world. They sat down and we started talking. I turned my chair to face them and my aunt was talking to me about a particular situation. As she shared, I kept seeing something out the window. I could only see it in my peripheral vision. It was like, beings, white, outlines of beings. I can't explain what I saw, but I kept seeing it so many times, I apologized to my aunt for seeming so rude. I told her there was something out there. Then, I turned to check on Dad and he was already gone. I was devastated! I grabbed him, I shook him, and I tried to turn back the clock. I kept saying, "No, no! It wasn't supposed to be this way! I was supposed to be there! I pictured myself holding his hand and watching him take his last breath. I felt cheated. I was hurt. I felt like I hung around for the labor, and when I turned my back, the baby was whisked away. It wasn't fair! Shannon came running and as I mentioned seeing something outside, she declared, "So did I!" She saw shadows out the window that was facing Dad's room. I am convinced, after God used two sisters to open my eyes, that He DID let me see Dad leave, only not in the way that I imagined. He let me see the angels come and take him to Heaven. I would have missed that had I been facing the bed. I asked God early on to let me break the champagne bottle on the ship, and He did. His ways are higher than my ways and I suddenly realized that I got to be in on the REAL departure. What an honor!
About 20 minutes after he was gone, the phone rang. It was Mike's wife. She said, "Carol, this is Lois. Mike wanted me to call and check on your dad and also to let you know the song is finished." After a conversation with Mike that evening, we both realized that Dad left about the same time the ink dried on the last line of the song. Oh, how glorious! My God didn't leave me empty-handed. The song was titled, "A Daughter And Her Dad.." Mike will have the song up on his site soon and I will let you know when he does. I will post his link on Apron Strings also. The song was played at Dad's funeral and it was so awesome. One more thing: Right after Dad left, I went outside and leaned my head against a pole. As I did, I suddenly realized I had music still going on the tape player. I felt a whisper saying, "Listen to the words." I did. The song said, "God is standing by, so hush, don't you worry, don't cry." Oh, how true and comforting. Thank you Jesus, for 41 marvelous years with this precious man. I will never be the same after knowing him. And thank you for allowing me to be there when it mattered. He was always there for me and it was only fitting that I see him leave with you. Amen and Amen.
God Bless you all, and remember:
Jesus loves you and I do too!
In Christ!!
Carol Skipper
Justaservn@aol.com
A Daughter and Her Dad
First Verse
It doesn’t seem that long ago she was on her daddy’s knee
Lifesavers and kisses were all she seemed to need
He was a humble man of prayer wishing time didn’t move so fast
Life was good; life was sweet for a daughter and her dad
Chorus
A dad who thanks the Lord each day for his precious girl
A daughter who believes there’s none like him in this whole world
Life is a great adventure, what a time they’ve had
There’s nothing stronger than the love between a daughter and her dad
Second Verse
Now here it is years later, she’s taking care of him
On a sunny afternoon as he watches his grandkids
Her heart is overflowing wishing this moment would last
For you see, it’s about love for a daughter and her dad
Repeat Chorus
Bridge
She knows if he goes to Heaven first- he’ll wait for her
He will talk with Jesus and he’ll thank Him for his daughter
Repeat Chorus