Long read alert! Forgive me…
A couple of years ago I was at a motivational talk for a team of 9-11 year olds as they prepared to go for an international sports competition. The speaker was encouraging them to aim high, envisage winning, etc. It hit me that day that I was scared to dream big. I was so fearful of things not working out and facing disappointment (again…) that I preferred to “dream small”. If you aim for your neighbour’s roof instead of the stars then you are far more likely to be successful, right?! Aim for something you think that you can achieve because this God sef, you never know what He will do! 😊 You can’t guarantee that He will come through for you so it’s best to just manage yourself before you have your heart broken by disappointment again. Hmmmm….
Following that talk the Lord started to speak to me concerning disappointment. He encouraged me to not fear disappointment because, He promised, even if I were to experience disappointment, no matter how deep, He would be right there with me.
Just over two months after He spoke this to my heart, this truth was to be tested big time! I was sitting in my office one Friday evening when I received a call from a dear cousin of mine. After some chit-chat she asked me whether I had “heard anything from home”. I responded in the negative. She finally plucked up the courage to convey a most difficult and unexpected piece of news. My father had been found dead in his hotel room that morning. To say that it was shocking would be a gross understatement. I had had a light-hearted conversation with him on the Monday. My older brother had seen him off the previous day as he made his way to catch his flight to Accra where he was due to attend some meetings.
I later learnt that, as was his usual way, Daddy had ribbed the waitresses as he enjoyed his last supper the night before.
From there, he made his way to his hotel room…. That was the last he was ever seen alive. Heart failure…..
When my cousin broke the news to me I had felt an initial calm. After asking a few questions to get more context I hung up. I stood up from my desk, going to where I do not know, and by my second step, my legs started giving way. I crumpled to the floor and my dear friend/office mate/colleague, Mrs T, rushed to my side, mouth agape and brows furrowed.
My first thought was: I don’t know where Daddy has gone! I don’t know whether he went to Heaven or hell! Did he ever invite Jesus into his heart?! I should have done more! I should have preached to him more! Oh God!” By this time I was wailing, experiencing a pain I had thankfully never felt before and shudder, even now, to think of ever feeling again.
I had to leave the office! For some bizarre reason I had this strong urge to simply lie on the floor face down and cry. To this day I do not understand the need I felt to lie prostrate on the floor. I needed to leave the office immediately! I needed to cry with liberty; not worrying about what my colleagues would be thinking.
Amid the thousand thoughts rushing through my head I also had to confirm the veracity of the news. Mrs T called my older brother in Freetown to see if he had heard anything, at the same time, trying to not alarm him. From his responses he clearly hadn’t heard the news but by then he had received a few strange calls.
I called another Lagos-based friend of my father who, when I had seen him the previous evening, had mentioned that he was to see my dad in Accra that weekend. He hadn’t heard anything either.
Anyway sha… I desperately needed to leave the office. The level of crying required was not an “office matter”. Sobbing uncontrollably, I was gently ushered down to the car by Mrs T. Then came another few minutes of confusion. Where could I go to lie face down and cry? I didn’t want to go home as my eldest daughter had a party to attend and I didn’t want to ruin her evening. The traffic going over Lekki Bridge to Mrs T’s house would have been torturous. We called another friend who lives in Ikoyi but she wasn’t at home. We decided to go to one of my favourite spots in Lagos – the beautiful garden of another close friend’s shop, overlooking the Lekki Bridge and lagoon. I knew lying face down on the grass was unlikely to occur (I was in shock and grieving but still had a tiny portion of my wits about me 😊) but at least it was a space that I found most peaceful.
As we pulled into her driveway my dad’s friend called again. He reported that he had spoken to a mutual friend of my dad’s in Accra who had said my dad was fine. I was howling, “Then tell Daddy to call me! Tell him to call me! If he is fine then let him call me now!” Many minutes passed as I sat in the garden with my two friends and no call came from Daddy. I knew within me that if my Dad was alive and aware that I had heard such upsetting news he would call me immediately. I mulled over who else I could call to confirm or refute the news and then I remembered that my cousin had mentioned that my dad was due to have lunch with his older sister who lived in Accra that day. She will know! She didn’t have my number or recognize my voice but once I clarified who was on the line I could tell from her voice. Daddy was gone…
Over the following hours, days and weeks, God showed Himself as true to His promise by remaining close to me in my state of deep shock, pain and disappointment. I felt His presence around me in a way that I had never ever felt before and have not experienced since. I had a deep consciousness of Him being there for me. An uncommon grace to go through that season.
God did the most thoughtful of things. I was due to fly to Nairobi the following Monday to attend a conference. After some toing and froing, I decided to go ahead with the trip. I concluded that with my husband at work and children at school during the week I would be left home alone crying. I figured that, between the hotel I was booked to stay in and the conference venue, I could find more pleasant places to cry. Let’s face it, if you have to cry then the least you can do is, where possible, cry in the most pleasant surroundings you can find. 😊
I was worried about spending the entire three-hour flight in tears. Not so! God, in his goodness, sat me next to a gentleman who I recognized as having children in my older children’s school. We had a most engaging conversation from Lagos to Nairobi, keeping my mind off my loss.
Then, on the first day of the conference I bumped into the husband of an old school friend. Can you believe that the entire family were in Nairobi staying in the same hotel as me?! I had dinner with my friend and her children that evening and she was a great source of comfort for the rest of my trip. Only God could have orchestrated that!
I came back to Lagos on the Friday and made my way to Freetown on the Sunday.
I experienced the most poignant and sobering day the following week. Together with my older brother and a few others, we had made the trip to Lungi Airport to collect the remains of my father. As you may well imagine, it was a long and reflective journey. Upon reaching the airport, instead of making our way to Arrivals we had to locate the area for cargo. Wow! Barely 10 days before my father had made his way through the departure lounge onto the aircraft. He would have located his seat, probably next to his friend, and settled in for his flight – completely unaware that not only would it be his last flight ever but that he was living his last 24 hours. Well, at least I believe he was unaware. Now here we were, awaiting his return as cargo.
Having escorted the funeral home’s vehicle to the cargo area we went to wait in a restaurant next to the arrivals lounge. The flight landed; passengers descended… We had to wait for another hour or so before my dad was “retrieved”.
We made the long return journey to Freetown, going straight to the funeral home. My dad’s remains were carried into a reception room where we were given some privacy to properly “receive” him. I stepped up to his box (it was literally a long large carton) and had the most powerful moment of realisation. I had subconsciously expected a label or sign to the effect of “Here lies [the Great] Dr D J O Robbin-Coker”. Something befitting, showing that inside the “package” laid a highly accomplished and respected man. No; nothing of the sort! There were four labels, alright. One with the name of the funeral home that had “packaged” him. Essentially, the sender. The second one had the addressee, the funeral home in Freetown. The third was what you would expect to see on any baggage transported by air – the airline sticker with flight details. The last was simply the sticker showing what way up the package should be kept. Haaaaa!!! My father had left Freetown as a “Big Man” and had returned as cargo! Nothing more, nothing less! Just another package! No different from any other inanimate object.
Us human beings are so ephemeral – here today, gone tomorrow. Yet, we live as if we are immortal, here for ever.
So, what’s it all about, eh?! The power, positions and possessions?! How fleeting! One day we will all be no more. The question is, “What then?!” Where will we spend the next season of our existence? What will be the verdict of the One who matters more than anyone and anything in this world? If you don’t yet know, spend time to ensure you have certainty in your responses to these questions. Because, one day the answer will be final.
Hmmm…..
During the season of my dad’s passing there was a line I repeated to the Lord over and over again, “You’re my daddy now!” Today, as I tearfully reflect on that season of my life, I become conscious of a certain truth for the first time. There is no hurt, pain or disappointment we could ever face that the love of God is not bigger than. I have a picture of a wave of God’s love sweeping over my heart and washing away every negative emotion, filling every remaining crack and crevice.
Father God, as tomorrow, 29th March, marks the second anniversary of Daddy’s passing I remind myself and I remind you: You’re my daddy now! You’re the only dad I have. Thank you for being there for me in the very depth of my pain. Thank you for comforting me in the face of extreme disappointment. Please continue to be with me in ways I cannot begin to fathom. Love me, protect me, guide me, provide for me….. Please fill the empty spaces of my heart; of my life. Please heal the wounded places. Please take care of me like the very best daddy that you are. May I constantly be reminded that you never leave me nor forsake me; that You are always there with me, being all that I will ever need You to be. Father God, surround me so completely that I will never have cause to doubt that You are always with me. In Jesus name I pray. Amen!
Daddy, I pray you are resting in peace….
Reflections
- Ask the Holy Spirit to show you the areas of your life in which you fear disappointment.
- Ask Him to show you the root of those fears.
- Forgive whoever may have been involved.
- Hand each and every fear over to the Father.
- Ask Father God to show you the ways He has always been with you and will continue to do so.
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