He turned my mourning into worship

It's that day again.  It has come around every year since 2002 and every year I say "Has it really been that long?"  It's the day my dad died and with him my chance for more memories with him died, the man who knew me the longest and loved me uncondtionally died, the opportunity to hear the words "I'm so proud of you" in the misty eyed, choked up way only he could say died, and my anchor was gone.  And while I still mourn my loss from his death I have also gained blessings.
I have wanted to share something about me for a long time and how it related to my dad's death but I never know how to share it well as it seems sort of weird.  But since this is my blog and my voice and it relates to his death and today is THE day I will go forward. 
It has to do with worship, how it changed and how the death of my earthly father brought me closer to my heavenly Father.  Here's the story.
We (my sisters and my mom and I) had the opportunity to talk with my dad several times before he died  about what he wanted for mom, how he wanted to be remembered, what to do with his stuff, etc.  But it was the night we talked about heaven that I will never, ever forget.  I believe it was a Divine gift because it has brought so much healing.
We were all sitting around about a week and a half before he died.  My dad was very clear mentally and was sitting in his chair and we were listening to the "Southern Gospel Hour" on the radio on that Sunday evening.  The hospice nurse had given us some questions and so I asked him if we could talk about them.  He agreed and so we started.  We got to the question of "What do you think heaven will be like?" and we all happily imagined streets of gold, reunions, big feasts, big huge wood working shops (he loved wood working) and my dad sat quietly and listened to us then he said  "I really don't know about all that.  I can't even imagine.  I will just worship Christ."  And there was silence.  I reflect and see what a holy moment it was. 
My dad was never demonstrative in his worship but in our tradition we went to church twice on Sundays.  My mom worked every other weekend and after my sisters were all married and gone it was just Dad and I going to church in the morning and sharing the Psalter Hymnal.  I loved to hear his voice when he sang his favorites "I will sing of My Redeemer," "What a Day that will be" "Great is thy Faithfulness".  His voice would crack with emotions at times.  He didn't sing loud or really well but he sang and that was his praise. 
Anyway, fast forward to a few months after he died.  I was driving around rural Iowa and flipping through the channels and I landed on a lady on a Christian radio station and she was talking about Revelations 4 which gives a picture of what heaven looks like.  In verse 4 it refers to the 24 elders but what those 24 elders represent are believers who are REDEEMED and are wearing gold crowns of victory.  And she said "If someone you love, who was saved, has died this is what the are doing.  They are worshiping!"  And I said to the radio "Yes they are."  And I could not wait to get home to tell my husband because his mom had died 1 month before my dad.  Here was HOPE and here was PROOF and I knew what they were doing at that moment!  I didn't "lose" my dad, I knew where he was. In fact in Revelations 4:8 it says "Day and night they never stop saying: “‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty,’who was, and is, and is to come."
So to my point.  Up to that point in my life I was pretty uncomfortable with raising my hands in worship.  But the Spirit had been tugging on me and moving my heart in worship.  Sometimes the "tears of praise" would leak out and I knew that the Holy Spirit was moving.  But after that realization of what my dad was doing I remember being in church and the song "Revelation Song" starting to play.  And in my heart the chains of grief were loosened and the chains were really loosened around my hands because they went up, a little at first then a little more and a lot more.  And I KNEW that my dad was doing the exact same thing at the moment and that was a blessing. 
I don't think of my dad every time I raise hands in my worship. I think of my Heavenly Father.   But when we sing "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD God Almighty who was and is and is to come. With all creation I sing, praise to the King of Kings"  I smile and the tears pour because I am right beside him again and we are worshiping Christ, together.

The Lord is my strength and my song;

he has given me victory.
This is my God, and I will praise him—
my father’s God, and I will exalt him! (Exodus 15:2)
thanks for listening,
joy