Knowing

He said to them: "It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. Acts 1: 7

“Mama, how come you know everything?”  Dylan asked me a few weeks ago as we were driving down a country road near home.  After a good belly laugh, I told him that I sure didn’t know everything…”I’m not even close to knowing much at all,” I said, only to have him reply,   “but you know a lot!” 

I insisted that I really don’t know many things; and as I talked to my little boy, I remembered the way I used to feel about my own Father.  When I was six years old, I sure thought he knew it all too.  I remember coming back from school to see him walking down the driveway to meet me.  I would throw my arms around his waist and hang on to him by his leather belt.  He was my tower.  I felt safe with him.  I thought for sure he knew everything. 

His presence alone irradiated knowledge and wisdom.  My Father always excelled at everything he did.  Everyone respected him.  I grew up surrounded by the mystic of being the daughter of the most distinguished “Professor Chalo.”  There is an entire wall in his house dedicated to exhibit all the awards, medals and honorary certificates that he accumulated throughout his life.  People always respected his opinion, and often came to seek his advice on anything from how to install a water tank in your house to how to maintain a happy marriage.  That was the man I call my Dad.  He sure knew everything.

Today, however, he lays prostrated in his bed, unable to move, and worst of all, unable to use his brilliant mind.  His most priced possession is no longer his to use effectively.  Incoherence attacks his stroke battered brain, letting him often slip in the barren land of void thoughts.  Our traditional Sunday evening chats have become painful 2 minute reminders of how there isn’t much left of the man he used to be.  Sadly, that is the way it sometimes has to be.  However, I do know that one thing is true.  As true now as it has always been.  I know for sure that my Dad loves me as much today as he did back when I was just a little girl hanging on to his waist by his belt. 

Each season of life brings its own challenges.  Seeing one’s own parents age and fade away represents a season of great pain, melancholy, fear and perhaps, even regret.  It is a season when forgiveness must bloom so we leave old hurts behind and prepare our souls for a new reality without those whose hands we held on to as we grew up.  It is a season of surrendering our loved ones to the will of our Heavenly Father.  It is a season of accepting that no matter how much we do know; we never know it all or even enough to understand the many reasons why things most happen this way.  It is a season of trust in our Lord.  Only Our Father in Heaven is omniscient and omnipotent.  It is not for us to know everything.  It is for Him to reveal it as He pleases, for His glory and honor, and for us to give Him praises.

By the Hand of the Almighty, my dear Dylan will one day also look back and remember the times when he thought his old Mama knew it all.  Maybe he’ll have a good laugh realizing how little she actually knew.  Perhaps he’ll too feel the melancholic tinge of the years gone by in his heart, as he remembers the conversations we held on our long drives.  Whatever it is, I pray Dylan knows that one thing is for sure.  I hope he knows of the great love of His Father in Heaven as well as the great love of his mama on earth, even on those days when I won’t be able to express it with words anymore.

My Dad with his grandsons:  Alex (black shirt), Willy and my boys, Grant and Dylan in Panama 2007