A Dr. Pepper Blessing

Blessings come in the strangest of ways.

Sometimes they are big and monumental.   Other times they are small and almost unrecognizable, 

unless you're looking for them.

At the beginning of this week, we went to see my dad. He is on his 3rd month in the hospital

and his 2nd round of pneumonia.

I really didn't know what to expect when I got there, so I prayed that God would prepare my eyes for his very thin frame and prepare my heart for whatever I might encounter while there.

I tried to prepare the boys for the physical appearance, as well as the possibility that PawPaw might be confused at times.

I will not adequately be able to describe the blessing that I feel in my heart about the two days we spent with him in the hospital.   But, if I had to try, the word would be:  overflowing.

Those were two of the sweetest times I've had with him in a long time.   See, my dad has been physically sick and mentally depressed for quiet some time.   Living with Celiac and all the resulting aches and pains from that disease, have had him in a sad, broken state for a few years now.

But, Monday when we walked in, his face lit up!  He was welcoming us into this place that he has learned to accept.   Not that he wants to be there, but it's his room, where he knows he has to be for now.

We talked at times and just sat, at times.   Many times we were ushered out of the room, while medical necessities were attended to and that was ok.   The staff has been amazingly accommodating and attentive.   They've even learned to endure his joking and his sarcastic tone.   I think they know that deep down, he is a kind man.

Toward the end of the first night there, we introduced him to Talking Tom - the cat on the iPad that talks and repeats what you say.    We had the best time!  We told my dad to talk to the cat and then we all cracked up when the cat would talk back.    Dad would just grin and say something else to the cat and we were all rolling with laughter.    It was really special.

I was amazed at all the things he could remember; even knowing exactly what the date was!  He listed all his brothers and sisters, in order (there were 9 kids all together) and when I would show him pictures on the iPad, he just smiled when he saw his grandkids and called them by name.

On the second day, he told Ted that he wanted a Dr. Pepper.   This is one of the things he requested, that day (including fritos).    So, later that day, Ted came back to the room with a bottle of Dr. Pepper for him.    My dad's eyes lit up.  He said "for me?"

Here is the picture I took of him and his Dr. Pepper.   To most, it will look like a picture that is nothing special.   To me, it holds the memory of making a sick man, very happy, with something that we take for granted every day.

My dad Jim and my step-mom Ruby

and

the Dr. Pepper

This Christmas, before you stress over buying that perfect gift or before you get depressed because you can't have what you really want, think about the people that are just happy to be alive.   Think about those who will spend their Christmas laying in a hospital bed or those taking care of those in the hospital beds.

When you get frustrated about all the traffic - praise God that you are free to drive.

When you get stressed over what meal to fix - praise God you have food on the table and that you are well enough to eat it.

When you lament over the perfect outfit for Christmas morning - praise God you're not wearing a hospital gown that day.

Whatever it is that keeps you up at night - praise God that you have two good legs and can kneel by the side of the bed and ask God to take your burdens from you.

Put life in perspective this week.

It's not about gifts.

It's not about food.

It's about love - giving and receiving - love.

And love can be simply handing someone a Dr. Pepper and watching their face light up.    

Merry Christmas everyone

and especially to my dad

Jim.