My Father the Hero (Guest Blog)

As I slowly recover from the writing frenzy of November and prepare to edit the 50k+ words written I have had my blog taken over once again  by another guest blogger Brooke as she shares a story about her father, her hero.

According to Brooke she is just a girl with scrapes and bruises, grateful to be picked up each & every time by my Abba. My prayer is that my life shines with of glimmers of His grace. I’m the wife of a realtor. Addicted runner. And best auntie eva.

Blog link: https://awkwardlygraceful.wordpress.com/

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An icy day 5 years ago changed my dad’s life forever. A small act of heroism cost him his livelihood. In the moment life seemed unfair, and with each ripple I’m discovering that I am simultaneously right and wrong.

Rather than some grand gesture, my father’s story was an act of every day courage. He didn’t deliberately set out to be a hero, but rather showed up, did his job, and worked a small miracle for a stranger.

9-1-1 dispatch received an emergency call from someone staying near the local ski resort, but thanks to the ice storm our county had been hit with, the first responders couldn’t make it up the mountain. Dispatch, in turn, called the street department and my dad and his snow plow went to work.

Or at least they tried. The ice was too much for the plow as well. He got out of the truck to make some adjustments and slipped on the ice, crashing hard onto his shoulder. Despite being in pain, he unbuttoned his shirt to create a make-shift sling, then got right back to work.

His solution to the ice problem was just as simple – he backed the truck up the mountain so that the salt would spread first, allowing his truck to make it to the top. The first responders were then able to follow him up the mountain and make it to their call.

Of course the story doesn’t end there. After surgery and physical therapy, my father’s doctor told him at his age 100% recovery just wouldn’t happen. His employer wasn’t satisfied by his upper body strength at this new capacity, and he was terminated.

But God…

I frequently left my office to walk laps of anger and frustration on behalf of him. I cried more than my fair share of tears, scared about what the future would look like. Both he and my mother had worked since I was a kid, they depended on his salary.

Now I look back, ashamed of my lack of faith. Sometimes I wonder if my dad realizes just how much God has done through him. He’s accepted his early retirement, or refirement as he likes to call it. The LORD is working, not despite the situation, but because of it.

My dad is available to help take my grandparents (his in-laws) to the doctor. He has also acted as chauffeur to my uncle (his wife’s-sister’s-husband as they like to joke), who just recently got accepted into a clinical trial at a hospital 4 hours away.

When my sister needs a baby sitter for her kids, its Baby to the rescue. (The explanation as to why my niece and nephew call him “baby” would take a blog post of its own to explain.)

He’s also had the opportunity to go on several week-long mission trips through our church. While the ministry opportunities are highly needed, volunteers are hard to come by because most everyone struggles to get time off work.

As I encounter each way the Father is using my father as a blessing to others, I start to wonder: What if my dad didn’t fall down that day. What if God pushed him?