“So do not fear for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10 NIV
I am writing this post on my dad’s death anniversary. When you get old enough, there are a lot of anniversaries like this. It is probably not ironic that today I got my butt whipped at work. It was a long and slow day. There was a point that I almost headed home. But then I got to thinking that a better way was to keep going. My dad made a living, working alone in a vehicle. I make a living, working alone in a car. Otherwise, our jobs are not similar, but I am sure he could relate to the hours and the windshield.
I do a lot of thinking while looking through a windshield. I wish I knew what he used to think. I am sure that he had things on his mind. I am sure that he worked through the mental images in his mind just like I do. I have a great deal of respect for him, knowing that he did what he knew worked. He had to work. If times were good, he still worked to prepare for the inevitable tough times. If times were tough, he worked, knowing that eventually, things would work out.
I got to see a pretty cool example this past weekend of how that legacy has continued. I tripped and fell in our camper. Several months ago, my brother fell down my steps, and I thought he might not make it when we found him. My fall was nothing like that. I just missed a step and fell. I hit the floor and had a cut that bled a little—nothing significant. It was just loud and embarrassing.
Aly shot out of bed like she was a morning person. She handles herself well in those situations. Korbin did something pretty interesting. When my brother fell, I had to do chest compressions because he was not breathing. Korbin saw that. He still regularly asks if Dave is okay.
This time I was sitting up and talking, but he only knew the similarity was a fall with a little blood, and he was worried. He said nothing, but he started to do compressions. I was not lying flat, but he started on my leg and then worked his way up to my head.
I was telling him that I was okay. Everyone in the camper was aware that Korbin’s take on the world is unique. But we all just reassured him that I was okay. After a bit, he grew confident in that and stopped.
As I write this, I wonder if he thought I was in as bad of shape as my brother was. I would give a lot to know what is in that beautiful mind of his. But on that day, I already know. He thought he was saving me. People with autism, as well as other conditions, are referred to as Special Needs. I kind of think we should change that to Special Gives. Korbin has given me far more than he has ever needed.
My point is this, our current state politically and relationally is bizarre. Some good things are being hammered out. But other things do not make sense, like anything regarding our political climate or our battle with a virus. People are arguing over everything, from masks to vaccines. Fear is more prevalent than I can remember.
Homes have gradually turned into little isolation chambers. Walking through a store, you may not even recognize friends to speak to them. Most people are not even trying to notice others. Head down with face covered and eyes averted, and we are becoming more and more isolated. Some of this is necessary. Some of this is more harmful than desired.
I wonder how to be a helpful guide to my family in the middle of it all. Korbin reminded me this week of exactly what I am supposed to do. He had faith in those compressions. Just like I saw my dad do, he did what he had seen work before. That is what I should do too.
I have seen God walk us through some pretty big challenges. I have also seen Him deliver a tremendous blessing. I have seen quiet time connect me with Him. His word gives me direction and peace. I have gathered with others for accountability in these efforts. The chaos of the day should not deter us from doing what we already know works. God has not changed.
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