Two weeks ago—after receiving requests from several of you—I shared the eulogy I gave at Dad’s funeral on August 21 in which I shared seven lessons I learned from my precious Dad, who truly modeled what it was like to be a man after God’s own heart.

But I shared an abridged version. Because, well, like my books the eulogy was a little long. #majorshocker #notapithywriter Anyway… I posted the abridged version two weeks ago, leaving out an expansion from Lesson #7, which I’d like to share with you today.

It’s a lesson that’s very close to me. That’s part of my family heritage. And that I didn’t know the truth about until I was in my late teens.

If you haven’t read the first part of the eulogy and want to, you can read that HERE. If you have read it, then continue on…

“Lesson #7—and the final lesson I’ll share with you today, one that Dad reminded me of often is…

“God is always working for His glory and for your eternal good. No matter what happens. No matter the circumstances of your life. And even in the “Nos” of life. Even when doors you yearned would open to you—even doors you prayed for God to open—stay firmly closed…God is still working.

“Romans was one of Dad’s favorite books of the Bible—if not THE favorite. And chapter 8 verse 28 was a staple for his life.

“In the New Living Translation, Romans 8:28 reads, “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.”

“In the margin of his Bible Dad wrote, “We are continually amazed and mesmerized by what God has done for us.”

“Dad loved The Message rendering of this verse too, and verses 26-28 read:
Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

“Most often in this life, we never get the opportunity to know the “why” behind those ‘Nos.’ But sometimes…you do. Sometimes, in God’s gracious kindness, He reveals it to you.

“When I was in my late teens, I don’t really recall the year, Dad and I took a weekend trip to visit Granny, his Mom. We were going to help her with some chores around the house. Pa, my grandfather, had already died by that time.

“As Dad and I were in the car on the way from Atlanta up to Fayetteville, TN, we were talking about family and life and everything—that’s something I’ll really miss…our conversations—and he asked me if I had a favorite among his four sisters—Aunt Mattie, Aunt Jenny, Aunt Frances, and Aunt Lyda.

“I told him that while I loved ALL of his sisters, I had a special soft spot for Aunt Lyda and Aunt Jenny. (Probably because my brother Doug and I used to spend a week or two every summer with Aunt Lyda and Aunt Jenny and their families.)

“I finally admitted to Dad that Aunt Jenny was probably my favorite. She had the same kind and gentle nature that Dad had, I told him. She always remembered Doug’s and my birthdays so thoughtfully. And she gave great hugs, too. Just like Dad.

“Well, what Dad explained to me on that trip was that my Aunt Jenny actually wasn’t my aunt. Aunt Jenny had gotten pregnant outside of marriage at the age of 16. Dad explained that she’d wanted to marry the father of her child—and that that man had wanted to marry her too. But Granny and Pa had absolutely forbidden it.

“Instead, Granny and Pa raised that son—Dad—as their own. A couple of years later, “Aunt” Jenny did marry a wonderful man, and she and Uncle Leonard shared a good life together and had two sons of their own. Dad’s half-brothers, Wilson and M.L.

“Now turn the clock ahead to around 2012 or 2013… Dad and Esta were married and living in Ball Ground. Dad called me one afternoon and asked me if I knew how to look up someone on the internet. I said I thought I could do that and asked, “Who do you want to look up?”

“Turns out, he wanted to look to up the son of his biological father to share with that man that he had a half-brother. I paused in the conversation, and I asked, “Does this man even know about you, Dad? Does he know that his own father had a child years earlier?” Dad said, “I’m not really sure, Tam.”

“I paused again. And I asked him what he often asked me when I was faced with a decision. “Have you prayed about it?” He assured me he had—for a long time—and that he felt a nudge to get in touch.

“Dad had harbored a measure of regret over not having known his biological father. And he’d felt a measure of hurt for Aunt Jenny, too, who had wanted to marry the father of her child. But had been kept from it by Granny and Pa. Mostly Granny, from what I hear—who was a formidable woman by anyone’s account (in the best of ways, and I loved her dearly!).

“So I found the man’s number and read it off to him. In short, Dad called him and they talked, and the man WAS interested in meeting him. So Dad and Esta drove to East TN, and the three of them had lunch.

“Dean, Dad’s half-brother, told Dad that as soon as Dad walked in, he would have known him anywhere. Because Dad looked and walked just like Dean’s father.

“As the three of them talked that day at lunch and got to know each other, and as the story unfolded, Dean looked across the table and shared, “Granny and Pa were were right in how they counseled Jenny.” He said, “My father was a cruel man. He was brutal to me. He was brutal to my mother. You definitely got the better end of the deal.”

“Looking back, I don’t know what Granny or Pa knew, or how they knew it. All I know is that a ‘No’ in Jenny’s life—a closed door which seemed so cruel to her at the time—protected her and Dad from a lifetime of cruelty. This ‘No’ allowed Dad to grow up in a Christian environment and home where he was well loved by four “older” sisters, and Granny and Pa, who adored him as well.

“And, as it turns out… Dean did know about Dad. As Esta and I were recounting again earlier this week, Dean and his own father had had an estranged relationship for most of their lifetime. But on his father’s deathbed, they had a reconciliation. Dean said he and his dad finally made their peace. Again, ‘God had been working. Causing everything to work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to his purpose for them.‘

“Esta, Dad treasured that trip and the lunch the three of you had together. And I thank you (again) for making that journey with him and for seeing that part of Dad’s story—and of God’s faithfulness and lovingkindness to him (and Aunt Jenny)—come full circle.”

The End (of this portion from Lesson 7 of the eulogy)

Thanks, friends, for allowing me to share this piece of family history with you today, and for allowing me to share the past several years of Dad’s journey with dementia. Your encouragement and prayers meant the world to me then, as does our continued connection now.

I miss Dad so much, yet I wouldn’t wish him back here into that dementia mind and body for anything. When I think of him with Christ (!), with Mom again, and with Granny and Jenny and Pa (his Dad), and Wilson (Dad’s half-brother), and so many other loved ones who’ve gone on before to meet their Lord and Savior, I’m thrilled! Truly thrilled that he’s safely Home.

Love you all,

Tammy