Yesterday in church we sang a song that we have actually sung quite a few times. One of the amazing ladies in our church who is a part of the worship team introduced us all to the song near the beginning of the whole COVID-19. She said it was a song that helped her get through the anxiety and trying times this virus has caused. Although yesterday while singing “Surrounded (Fight my Battles)”, Upper Room’s version I did not think about COVID-19. Instead I thought of you Dad. This week Mom and I found out that a close relative has been battling cancer. However, we are not sure where her focus is at. Dad I know you know the importance of keeping a positive attitude while you fight your battles. Now I am not saying that you didn’t have the right to have a pity party every once in awhile, but then you had to put your big boy pants on and deal with it. I remember when you had your feeding tube and how difficult of a time that was for you. Then we would see someone whose battle was harder. We would remind you that you could still walk down your trail to the woods, you could play with your grandkids, you could see and hear your grandkids, you could go the bathroom by yourself, and you could wrap your arms around your loved ones. Even when times are hard we learned we had to look for the positive and thank the Lord for those blessings. The song “Surrounded” in verse 2 says, “in the valley I know that you’re with me. And surely your goodness and mercy follow me. So my weapons are praise and thanksgiving. This is how I fight my battles.” Yesterday, these lyrics really spoke to me. I thought about how when you were first diagnosed you focus was not on the positive. Your weapons were not praise and thanksgiving. You were still trying to control everything in your own strength. You were trying to figure out how you could fix this on your own. Over the years you learned that you needed the good Lord and you needed to pick up your weapons of praise and thanksgiving. Even in the valley, laying in that hospital bed and not understanding why you couldn’t do things on your own, you still picked up your weapons Dad. You still praised the Lord and thanked him for the six weeks you and Mom got to spend together in Ann Arbor. When the two of you were truly present for each other. My prayer is that others can learn from you and your battle. I pray that others no matter what their valley looks like can look up and pick up their weapons of praise and thanksgiving. I love you Dad.
