This story begins at an intersection of Beauty and Tragedy…
On this day, last year, September 9th, 2009, I was featured in the closing segment of the Season 6 Premiere of So You Think You Can Dance. It opened with an introduction and interview with Cat Deeley, and ended with my full solo dance audition. It was the beginning of a full journey for me. For the same week that I was chosen to be in the Top 20 out of thousands of contestant hopefuls, I learned that my father was dying:
...When I walked into the hospital room, Dad was heavily sedated, and all tubed up. I think he had been like that for a while. But when he saw me, a smile escaped him that lit up the room. It was different from any smile I had ever seen from anyone. It was as if I was watching a baby in a game of “Peek-a-boo” every time you pop up to surprise him. The corners of his mouth stretched from one ear to the other. His beautiful, full lips opened up as a chest opens to reveal its treasure. And even at 77 years of age, his pearly whites beamed. His teeth reflected a bright, white, glowing light that shot from his mouth, bouncing from wall to wall, ceiling to floor, and straight into my eyes. And when I looked into his, although he was tired and in an incredible amount of pain, and even though he would have never preferred for me to see him in such a state, I could see his relief. He was so happy to see me. And in that one moment, although he couldn’t speak, I had a raw sense that his heart was screaming out the love he had for me. And my own heart melted.
I went straight to my Father’s side, replacing Mom (his beloved wife of 50 years), who had spent every moment she could there at his bedside, from Wednesday onto that Saturday night. There were several people in the room, family and friends alike. And the traffic, in and out of his hospital room, had been busy from the time he was admitted. That, and the flowers and balloons that surrounded him were a clear sign that my Father was a loved man.
After spending a few hours with Dad, my time to leave was approaching. And although I knew I would have to say goodbye, and that it might be the last time, it just didn’t register. I felt slightly awkward. What do you say to someone, particularly the man who raised you, when you have a feeling it’s the last time you will see him… in life? I felt a lot of pressure to “say the right things”. Everyone who was in the room sensed that I would be leaving soon, and needed some privacy with Dad, so they all filed out, and left us alone.
At first, I felt like I was watching myself in a movie. We have all witnessed the “say goodbye to a dying loved one” scene. I couldn’t process the reality of the moment. I didn’t know what exactly to say. And I even caught myself editing and filtering thoughts out because I didn’t want to recite some superficial, sappy, soap opera monologue.
So I took a moment to pray. And I felt God say to me, “Tell your Father you forgive him.” This threw me off. The last thing I wanted my Dad to think, while on his deathbed, was that I had been holding a grudge against him. And then I remembered… that life begins and ends messier than we’d like it to. We Humans like to think we are in control of our own lives and relationships. And in pursuit of that sense of control, we underestimate Life. We live each day to expand our bubbled kingdoms, and Life is merely convenient for us… until it becomes inconvenient. I stood over my dying Father, and I was reminded that in moments like these, Life displays its power, and exposes our certain fear of that which is uncertain.
My Father and I butt heads. I knew Dad loved me, and that he would give me the shirt off of his back, but we often “agreed to disagree” on matters. He was an Army Veteran of 20 years, born in the 1930’s “my way or the highway” era, and I am the completely spoiled baby of the family, by far (52 years his junior), and the crazy, hyper-emotional, sensitive, questioning artist. I always thought we would have more time to work things out, and understand each other better. But, like I said, Life and relationships are messy. And if we don’t risk getting dirty, we’ll never experience love.
“I forgive you Dad. And thank you for forgiving me. I love you. There are angels all around, and peace is in the room. Just fix your eyes on Jesus.” I said this while stroking his head, and looking intently into his eyes. I noticed that a tear was rolling down his cheek. He was coughing heavily, and every once in a while he would get choked up on phloem. But in the midst of such evidence that my Father was hurting, and death was near, I really did feel peace. And I believed that what I said gave him comfort. And because I felt peace over him, and in my own heart, I knew that what I said was true, not at all contrived, and came straight from my heart. As much as I wanted to stay longer, I kissed him, and left it at that…
My father passed away shortly after I saw him for the last time, and I was voted off the show the same week I buried him. But as much as I wanted to continue on in the competition, I knew I wasn’t there to win. Throughout the entire process, I was met with staggering love and support from family, friends, and even my fellow contestants. And I learned a valuable lesson. God has given us all talent for certain opportunity. But that is not the point. The strength of an experience is in our relationships with God, and every person He places around us in the journey.
I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but ironically, it has proven to be a blessing to walk through success and loss simultaneously. As important as it is for all of us to feel accomplished, and to have a legacy to pass on, we are not what we do. Our identity does not lie in our achievements. And if we do not shift our focus from ‘what we are accomplishing’ to ‘who we are becoming’, then we will never fully be human.
It wasn't until this past summer that I was hit with a wave of grief. And in the midst of emotional disarray, I had a dream…
…I was in a conference waiting room with several key leaders and speakers. I wasn’t talking, just listening, to everyone around me. When suddenly a woman very directly called out my name, “Phillip! I have a word for you.” And she began to pray over me. I was affected so much that I began to shake and cry.
Then the voice of another woman came from behind me. In an attempt to pull me away from what was going on, she placed one hand on my shoulder, and one around my back (as if to comfort, but almost patronize) and exclaimed towards the first woman, “He doesn’t need to hear this! He’s crying!” But the first woman insistently cried out…
“No! He needs to hear this! Phillip! Remember the promises of God! For they are deep down inside of you!”
Everything around me seemed to draw to a standstill and fade into the background. This shook me to the core... “What promises?”…
In processing the significance of the dream, I feel very strongly that the two women represent two choices that we have. The first woman symbolizes our option to scale the wall of uncertainty, with uninhibited faith that on the other side awaits fulfilled promise. The second woman signifies our choice to allow circumstances to paralyze us, and pitch a fearful tent on the campgrounds of complacency. Many times in facing uncertainty it is our tendency to seek a false sense of comfort, and stop in the middle of a process. But God, the author of all creativity, is also in the business of redemption. And He is desperate for us to see Him for who He is... God! ‘He is not a man that He should lie.’ And there are certain promises that unfold out of fearlessly treading, in the spirit of sonship, with Him as a loving Father.
Shortly after this dream encounter, I cried out to God. “You say in the scriptures that you are a Father to us. Well I dare you to show yourself as a Father to me!” And already, this prayer has proven to be potent and dangerous.
It is unrelenting in pace. It is no respecter of persons. It cannot be controlled, only counted. But Time is a gift. And for however long we are meant to live in this world… I am here to say… that even in the midst of the toughest of circumstances… NEVER underestimate the power of a journey. Because throughout our journey in Time, we are sure to find people to love, and to be loved by; courage to move forward in uncertainty; and enduring hope for a future. Welcome to The Promise Blog! I would like to invite you into a journey that I fell into not long ago. And if you are willing to listen, then it is my privilege to share the events that are to unfold beyond this introduction.
