My father passed away on Tuesday August 1, 2017 from pancreatic cancer and these are the words I shared at his funeral.
Isaiah 42:16 says, "And I will lead the blind in a way that they do not know, in paths that they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I do, and I do not forsake them."
This has been a difficult year for our family, and especially for Dad as he suffered with pain beyond what most of us can imagine, but we did not walk this journey alone. The support my parents, and the rest of us, have received from family, friends, and people we have never met has overwhelmed us and blessed us far beyond our expectations. But even more than that, God Himself has walked with us through the raging river. God has been our firm foundation. He has showered us with love and comfort and myriad blessings as Dad has walked through the valley of the shadow of death. And now, Dad is no longer in pain, but has been made new and is rejoicing in the presence of Christ. My father's life has only just begun.
If you went through the viewing line you likely noticed Dad is wearing his favorite flannel shirt and jeans. It felt disrespectful to bury him in a suit & tie, when he is anything but a suit & tie kind of man, and we felt we should bury him in his favorite color...camo. Years ago he brought home a souvenir t-shirt from his least favorite vacation spot, the beach, that read "There's a place for all God's creatures...right next to the mashed potatoes and gravy", and he proudly wore that t-shirt for years. Politically Correct would not be words used to describe my dad! But...there are a few other words that would.
Loving. Dad loved his family and he didn't hesitate to let people know. He was so proud of my son, Isaac, and he made that fact known to everyone within earshot, and finally, nearly 17 years after Isaac was born, Dad was thrilled beyond measure to gain another grandson, Jake, to brag about. We managed to take a few short videos of Dad talking to Jake and in every single one Dad can be heard repeating again and again, "Paw Paw loves Jake". Jake may be just a tiny baby, but he sure seemed to recognize his grandpa, evidenced by the sweet smiles he gave Dad. The tender moments Dad shared with Jake were the happiest and sweetest moments during the last months of Dad's earthly life.
I've always heard that a person's view of God is shaped by their relationship with their earthly father. If you had a harsh or unloving father, you tend to see God as harsh and unloving. I've always seen God as gentle and tender and kind, and I owe the ease with which I can sense God's love to the love of my earthly father. I never doubted Dad's love for me, none of his children did. We simply knew deep in our hearts that our daddy loved us, and that love was secure.
Dad didn't just love the important people. He loved the ones no one else wanted to love. Dad was always drawn to the underdog and he wasn't afraid to get involved in situations that most of us would prefer to avoid. As a junior boys club leader at Erisman Mennonite Church, he would bring boys from the community into the group, seeking to give them a chance to experience the love of God and the secure environment of the church. Our family remembers several needy families in the area when we were growing up that he got involved with, helping out however he could, because he cared when many others did not.
Protective. Dad took care of us and always made sure we were safe. There is nothing like death to bring a flood of memories of all the wonderful ways your loved one cared for you, and all the little things Dad did for us have been coming to mind once again. I can't tell you how often Dad left the job site at odd times to drive home and get one of his daughters safely to work when the roads were bad in winter, which must have been incredibly inconvenient much of the time with our irregular work hours but we never heard him utter a single word of complaint. In fact, it was usually his idea. I was an anxious child, but I always knew I was safe with my Daddy. I was terrified of the dangers lurking in the woods when we went to the cabin, from rattlesnakes to bear to whatever a child's imagination can dream up, but if I was with him, I knew I was safe. Nothing could hurt me because my Dad knew how to protect me. All his children were glad he was a night owl, because we could drift off to sleep feeling peaceful and safe, knowing our daddy was close by.
Brave. There is one particular memory seared into my conscience as a child that spoke volumes about the character of my father. One Friday afternoon on his way home from work, Dad witnessed a man hitting his wife and young son. Dad didn't stop to think about how getting involved could affect him, he simply saw an innocent woman and child in danger and acted on the visceral response that rose within him. He threw his truck into park and threw a punch at the man, stopping the abuse and putting himself at risk for assault charges. We were headed to my grandparents' cabin on Shade Mountain in Juniata County when he got home, and wondering what fate awaited him when he returned made a very long and stressful weekend for my parents, but I remember secretly feeling very proud that my daddy was brave enough to do what he had done. And thankfully, he did not face charges when we arrived home!
My dad could build you a house and the furniture to fill it. He could skin you a deer for your dinner and use the leftovers to make you some of his homemade secret-recipe venison jerky, a treat many in this room today have enjoyed, and that my son Isaac has spent many an evening making with his beloved grandpa. He could lead you in the dark of night out of the wild woods of West Virginia, or Sinnemahoning, or Potter County, or about any other place deep in the forests of Pennsylvania and beyond. Dad shaved his beard for his wedding to Mom, grew it back on the honeymoon, and never shaved it again. When the hospice nurse asked if she should shave him to clean him up we told her "NO! DON'T TOUCH THE BEARD!" My dad was rough-around-the-edges and we wouldn't have it any other way.
For me, being the straight-laced teen who was scared to do anything that could potentially get me in any kind of trouble, I marveled at the stories of Dad's antics as a teen. Dad went to Lancaster Mennonite High School where he was frequently in one kind of trouble or another for all sorts of stunts I never in my wildest dreams would have dared to try. In one of my favorite stories, Dad was suspended and sent home for something yet again. He returned with his partners in crime to set up a fishing spot along Mill Creek directly across and within view of the principle's office, much to the principle's displeasure. He said Grandma marched into that principle's office and told him he is giving Dad exactly what he wants by sending him home.
Dad taught us how to shoot a gun, how to drive a car, and how to enjoy the simple things. Many of our happiest childhood memories were spent at a magical place called Bushy Bungalow. If you're family, you know exactly what I'm talking about. For the rest of you, Bushy Bungalow, known as Bushy for short, was a run-down shack of a cabin way back in the gap between the mountains of Potter County where we would run wild and free, splashing in the creek, hiking in the woods, and sitting around the campfire late into the night listening to Dad's stories. I've never met my Great-grandpa Hepner but I'm told he was quite the storyteller, and Dad inherited his gift for spinning elaborate and side-splitting tall tales. The details of the stories he would share around the campfire went from silly to downright ridiculous, and we would laugh until we cried, all the while stuffing our faces with marshmallows and hot dogs roasted on the green branches he would gather from the woods and carve into roasting sticks. If I could revisit any moment from my childhood, it would be to sit once again around a crackling campfire by Bushy Bungalow and listen to my Dad's stories mingled with our laughter and the backdrop of the night sounds of the mountain.
This morning during my time alone with God I was thinking about how we are still going through the process of "laying Dad to rest" as it is described, but in reality, Dad has been at rest since Tuesday. He has been free of any kind of pain, he has felt the hugs of his mother, his eyes have beheld the glorious beauty of heaven that our minds cannot imagine, he has laughed with old friends gone ahead of him, he has met for the very first time his children and grandchildren who never made it out of the womb, and he has seen the glory of Christ for five full days now. He is settling in to his true home, and today I feel so homesick for the home I've never seen. Psalm 73:23-24 says, "Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory." I can't think of a verse that more perfectly sums up this past year for our family. God has held us by the hand and guided us with his counsel, and now He has taken my father into glory. And one day, praise God, when we see the face of our heavenly father, we will also once more see the face of our earthly father, our daddy, and we will never be separated from him again.