Let me start by being honest and clarifying the thought process around the title of this post. Whilst the title “Why my Dad dying was the best thing that has ever happened to me” is true in many respects, it was extremely hard for me to get my head around writing this.

You see, whilst my Dad dying was hands down the worst experience of my life, I seem to have learned many lessons in the years since his passing. By no means have I managed to deal with all my feelings as yet, and I don’t think I ever will, but I’ve come a long way. I think though, without his passing, I wouldn’t be the person I am now.

When I was young, I had a wonderful relationship with my Dad, well, that’s what my Mum tells me anyway. Later, when I got a bit older, my Dad was not overly ‘fatherly’. This stemmed from his relationship with his father, which by all accounts was quite authoritarian and was anything but ‘lovey dovey’. In the years to come, it was clear that I didn’t have a loving relationship with my Dad, although I loved him very much.

Like many fathers of the 70s, my Dad wasn’t present all that often. He generally left that bit to my Mum. He certainly worked hard to put food on the table and made many sacrifices for me and my three siblings over the years, but I certainly don’t remember many times that he would sit down with me and play mechano, paint model planes, play the Atari, or have a hit of cricket in the backyard. I’m sure he did on occasion, but generally speaking, he was a typical father of that generation.

Our relationship wasn’t ever great. I argued with him a lot, didn’t show a lot of respect, and certainly didn’t really value his influence in my life. When I got married, I saw him less and less. This, together with not seeing eye to eye on a few issues, our relationship soured.

In recent years, just before I had kids, I had another argument with him, and because of my pig-headedness and holding on to a strong position that I was right and that he had to apologize, the rift went on, and on, and on.

Fast forward three kids later. I was adamant that he had the issues, and if he did really want to see his grandkids, he would need to approach me. I was stupid. But really, that doesn’t accurately represent me at all. I wasn’t only stupid, but inconsiderate, selfish, uncaring, and ultimately unforgiving.

I couldn’t forgive him for what was, in all honesty, a lack of being able to bridge the gap. In some sense, he was incapable of knowing how to connect, and because of this, the rift went on.

It was Wednesday and I was enjoying time with my kids at the pool. I was, in my mind, an awesome Dad. I was a lot of things to my kids that my Dad wasn’t to me. I was present, I was caring and would kiss and cuddle them far too often, much to their disgust, and I was forgiving. I had it all together.

Then the call came through from my sister. “I’m at Dad’s, with the police. Dad’s dead. You need to come now.”

What had I done? Could I be responsible for this? Is this all on me? There were dozens of thoughts rushing around in my head in an instant.

What I couldn’t actually bring myself to admit is that my kids would never get to know their granddad. No sitting on his knee reading books, no gardening with him in the backyard, no inviting him to school concerts, no kisses and hugs, just a forever absence.

For me, there’d be no chats about life, no picking his brain about the Lord and what he’s learnt over the years, no sitting by the sidelines watching the kids play sport, no tinkering with the engine, no watching TV together, no supporting him when he got old, and on and on it goes.

This was all on me. Me alone. It was overwhelming. More than I could bear. I didn’t know what to do or how to fix this, but I knew I had to ask myself some hard questions.

This is the exact point where my life had to change.

Initially, I knew I had an unforgiving attitude. If I could forgive my wife and my kids, why couldn’t I forgive my Dad?

I did take a bit of time to come to understand that I couldn’t choose who I forgave, this wasn’t how it worked. I knew the ramifications of what my unforgiveness had done, but again, it took time for me to totally comprehend the full and powerful ripple effects.

I do now.

I totally understand how bad the pain is, and how, because of my inaction, my children’s lives will be forever different to how they could have been. They’re paying the price now, not just my siblings and I.

How could I have been so uncaring? How could I have let unforgiveness creep into my life without knowing? Why didn’t I think about my children? And so on, and so on.

My heart was hard, and I knew it. I just didn’t want to dig deep and understand why. It was too easy to continue in a lie, telling myself all would be fine.

In Ezekiel 36:26, it says, “And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.”

My heart needed a replacement, that’s for sure.

I was ignorant of this and was drifting along, oblivious to that hardness in my heart. This ongoing unforgiveness caused my heart to become hard, and consequently, I lost the one person who I really needed.

The Bible says in 1 John 1:8, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves.” I certainly didn’t think I was without sin, however, I did ignore some real sin that was festering away. The word also says a lot about forgiveness. In Luke, Jesus says if your brother sins, forgive him, and in Mark he says whenever you pray, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father may forgive you. In Ephesians 4:32, Paul says be “kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”

What I do know is that it took the death of my father to wake me up from my lackadaisical cloud, where I never really had the intent or the guts to inspect my attitude and motives, and more importantly, to take scripture seriously.

This, along with the help of the Holy Spirit, changed everything.

We all have underlying issues in our lives that we need to give to Jesus. Maybe they’re not huge, maybe they are, but you know deep down you need to surrender them to the Lord before they potentially ruin your life.

Now that I’ve had to open up my heart and take a very close look, I’d humbly suggest the following are the ten most important life lessons we could ever learn if you really want to become more like Jesus.

1. Continually growing to become more like Jesus will eradicate the vast majority of our issues.
2. Without having the intestinal fortitude to dissect our motives, we’re doomed.
3. Unresolved issues will come back to bite you, guaranteed.
4. First, put yourself in others’ shoes, then determine your response.
5. Hardened hearts destroy lives.
6. In this world, you will have trouble, but Jesus has overcome the world.
7. Before you judge, know that all of us are broken and need the healing touch of Jesus.
8. Love, acceptance, and forgiveness should be the first three priorities in life.
9. We are responsible for our own thoughts and actions. We alone.
10. Lessons are best learned before they need to be.

I’m still working through these, and have a long way to go, but I must say, I’m feeling better about myself having realized a few hard truths over the last few years.

Every time I look at my three wonderfully loving, accepting, and forgiving kids, I hurt for what I’ve caused them to miss out on. However, I know that the lessons I’ve had to learn will be the lessons they will learn long before they need to.

If you are feeling like there’s something you need to change, I implore you to put some immediate action around those feelings. Do not delay any longer. Ask the Holy Spirit to help you inspect your heart and be open to change.

Remember, to become more like our Saviour is the ultimate goal.

Action: Ask the Holy Spirit to highlight the change needed in your life.

Paul

Reach out anytime if you’d like to discuss where you’re at. I’m always here if you need it.