Will you be alive then, Daddy?

Last night as I was talking and praying with my 5-year-old daughter Evelyn, she asked me about something to which I answered "When you're all grown up." Then she asked when that would be, so I told her she'd go off to college in about 13 years. Her next question grabbed my attention, "Will you be alive then, Daddy?" I at first said, "Of course, I'll only be 53!" But then it sunk in that I couldn't make that promise at all. Not only could I die of accidental causes, but I might fulfill my hereditary destiny of dying of heart disease by then. It would only require that fall in line two years earlier than my Dad had his gratefully non-fatal heart attack.

I mumbled something about how I should probably live to about 80 or so, but in my heart I knew in that moment that my daughter really needs me to be there for her for as long as I can be. Maybe I ought to go ahead and get that cholesterol test and rev up some exercise plan. Maybe the best support I can give my young family right now is to become a healthy Dad who will be around to be a healthy Granddad someday.

As I think about it more, though, even a healthy body doesn't defend Evelyn's best interests completely. I've got to consider how I'm preparing her spiritually and psychologically for the potential loss of her father. Am I seeing each day as a life-time opportunity, or just another block on the calendar? Am I helping her arrange her heart and life so that her confidence is not solely based on having her parents present? Is she sufficiently surrounded by a family and community that knows and loves her to the extent that her hope would not be lost if Rhoda and I were both taken away? I believe our little house church community is becoming that kind of environment, but the circle of love around Evelyn does not correspond with any one grouping, I suppose. The circle is known in practice and through the heart.