A couple of days ago Heather and I were in the house standing and talking in the kitchen when Heather came to me and nuzzled her head into my shoulder and began to sob. It took a few minutes to be able to understand what she was trying to tell me, but while we had been talking in the kitchen, someone had come to the house (a homeless man, who we have been ministering too for a while now); and he had been at the camp when Grandpa Dundon was here visiting in April. This triggered a memory of her Grandpa, and she became overwhelmed with emotion and missing him. We are now just realizing that when we were back in the States we went through the "motions" of grieving. Ken's plane ticket was for the day of his father's burial and he actually left without attending the graveside service for Costa Rica. The kids and I continued in NY for another whole week to do a week-long VBS, and then return to NC for a speaking engagement, and then returned to Costa Rica. It seems now like one day we were surrounded with our family and a week or so later we were back in Costa Rica by ourselves. On a recent phone call with Ken's Mom when we were checking in with her, I never could regain composure enough to talk to her as I didn't want to upset her anymore than she was already. She was sharing some of the difficulties she was experiencing as she adjusts to her new life as a widow.
I was reading in Psalms the other night and came across Psalm 73:26 which says, "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever". I highlighted the verse in a neon yellow Sharpie marker and then wrote, "Dad Dundon" in ink next to it. For me, it embodies all that he believed.
One day, I hope that my children can highlight a verse and remember me. I pray that it is a verse as strong as this one; testifying that God is all that I need and that He is everything to me!
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