#iConviction

Lately I have been rereading my mom’s book, Slammed: Overcoming Tragedy in the Wave of Grief, and the experience has led to grief-filled tears mingled with grateful memories.
Traveling backward in time is impossible, except by thought alone. For people of faith, those periods of reflection can be a comfort as we see how our past events – the good and the bad – were all part of God’s purpose and plan. For my parents, that even meant the loss of a son.
Something about that event struck me hard as I read the written account in Mom’s book, something I’ve always known, but never deeply considered or pondered. I still can’t fathom it, but the words recorded on the page vise-gripped my heart and moved me to such emotional anguish that I can’t imagine what the actual effort did within my own father’s heart.
“His firstborn son had died, his namesake, and there was nothing he could do to change it.
“… John took on the onerous tasks related to preparing a body for burial. He identified Little John’s body at the morgue. He picked out John’s clothes and even dressed him for the viewing. He made all the funeral arrangements and found himself alone as he stared at a death certificate that had his own name staring back at him.” (Andrea Maher)
And I thought how strong and loving a man must be, how loyal and kind: In quiet solitude, to be able to cleanse and care for his son’s lifeless body while publicly presenting a steady composure for his other sons to see.
My thoughts began to harass and torment me as I grieved to think of what I had put my father through, after he had already walked through such a tragedy with my brother. Yet, most striking and most comforting is what I am left with through it all: that my father’s love never wavered; in fact, he loved me all the more and taught me to be more.
Christlike character is the essence of my father, and that is why he is my earthly role model. He may appear stoic because he manages his emotions like a poet with metrical flow of his heart’s beat, controlling what he rhythmically shows on his sleeve. Great sensitivity interlocked with strength in humility.
So I find myself thinking about my father, and how he has walked uprightly through the death of his oldest son and the incarceration of his youngest son. I dragged his name through the mud, but he never stopped treading along with me to the other side.
I’m truly thankful to be blessed because of my father’s walk. “The righteous man walks in his integrity; His children are blessed after him.” (Proverbs 20:7)
Matthew Maher is a former professional athlete and author. He served four years and seven months in N.J. state prison and was released August 2014. You can learn more at www.themattmaherstory.com, where his blogs have been read by over 500,000 people in every state, 121 countries, and in 67 different languages.