steve. dad. their cross.

steve was my youth pastor growing up.  as long as i have been alive, i have known steve and his family.  really know them.  if there is a man i admire as much as my dad, steve comes in a close second.  growing up i remember learning from him, watching his life and listening to him.  i remember him saying things like, "if you love and respect someone you will look at them in the eye when they speak." i always look at people in the eye when they address me and often think of him saying that when i am doing it. i remember him saying, "love is the desire to benefit others at self's expense and lust is the desire to benefit self at others expense." and have never forgotten and told many friends that.  he taught me life lessons, godly lessons, and lived a holy and upright life for me to witness as a child to adolescent to adult.

not long after my dad was diagnosed with parkinson's disease, steve was as well.

i like to think of myself as a 'glass half full' kinda girl, but with the diagnoses of these terrible diseases, you find yourself as a teenager, asking yourself why.  why would these two upright, strong, hard working, god fearing men have to endure the rigor that i was yet to know parkinson's would play on their body?

and rigor it has.  it has beat them up.  it has paralyzed them.  it has caused them hurt.  it has made them different.  over and over again, day after day.  year after year.

today my mom said that steve had been by to visit dad.  she said they sang together a little.

it choked me up.  and the tears welled on the brim of my eyes.

because i knew that they were singing songs like...
"he who began a good work in you, he who began a good work in you, will be faithful to complete it, will be faithful to complete it.  he who started the work will be faithful to complete it you."
"i love you lord and i lift my voice to worship you.  oh my soul rejoice.  take joy my king in what you hear, let it be a sweet sweet song in your ears." 
because they are steve and my dad.  these two know so much what the other's body is feeling.  what it has to endure day to day. and daily they pick up their cross' and are thankful for the present.  for the life they have been given no matter how painful it might be at times.

and together today in room 206 they did the only thing they know how to do.  they sang together like they did so long ago and gave the thanks back.

because it is their cross.  parkinson's might have a hold of their body, but not of their heart.

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