Several months ago, I mentioned in one of my blog articles about my father’s recent diagnosis with ALS.
He’s now in the end stages. I don’t know how much time we have left with him—maybe days, maybe weeks, probably not months—but it’s hard not to think that every time I say goodbye, it might be the last time.
As expected, my emotions have been all over the place. But I found optimism recently in the most unlikely of sources: giving a slave their freedom.
Slipped in right after several verses that talk about freeing a slave after six years of service, Deuteronomy 15:18 dials it up another notch. Instead of being sad that you have to say goodbye to a slave, it shall “not be hard” to set him free.
The reasoning is very simple. When masters remember the fact that a slave has given them six years of service with double the work of a regular hired servant, their outlook should be one of gratitude, not bitterness. Don’t think about what you’re losing, in other words, but in what you’ve gained.
I’ve thought about that verse a lot in my own relationship with my father. It’s very easy to be bitter when I think about losing him at roughly the midpoint of my life. After all, I just lost my grandfather (my father’s father) a few years ago, at 94. Why am I losing my father at 76?
But then I remember that forty years of life with my father is worth more than a hundred years with a below-average father, or even an average father. My dad taught me so many things in life that I carry with me every day—too many to name here.
Most importantly though, he’s taught me how to love God. He’s taught me what it means to discover what faith actually means, rather than just “inherit” it from a friend or family member (my dad wasn’t raised as a Christian; he only became one when he married my mom).
So is it a massive disappointment to have to say goodbye to my dad? Absolutely.
But would I trade what I’ve gained with him for another forty years with someone else? Never.
Instead of being bitter about what I’m losing, Deuteronomy 15:18 teaches me to focus on the benefits of this time together. That’s a healthier perspective, after all, and one that honors his memory for the rest of my life.