He sits in his chair, silver hair crowning his head, watching the Twins, chatting about anything and everything happy to be surrounded by family. The phone rings and he answers and as I listen to the conversation, I’m astounded again and again by his gracious love extended to each caller. They’re calling to check-in, to see how he’s doing, to say they’re praying. The fact that they’re calling isn’t the astounding thing, though. After updating, my dad invariably asks how the person on the other end is and what shocks me is how quickly people who called to encourage become the encouraged. Dad patiently listens to then, even though his own time on this earth is short. He prompts them with questions, willingly engaging them in their comparatively trivial concerns. More than once, my dad–the one with the incurable cancer–prays for them.
Lovely. Beautiful. Self-less. Amazing.
How does he do it? I’ll tell you what he’d tell you, that he continues encouraging because he’s constantly being fed and nourished and encouraged by The Encourager–The Comforter–The Counselor who prays for him and us constantly.