In God’s Time

The words to this poem poured out through many tears one afternoon while working on a seminary paper that reflected the themes of time, grief and wisdom from Ecclesiastes.

I read it at my church’s Good Friday service (starting at 19:40) to mark the one-year of my dad’s passing, April 15th, 2022, Good Friday last year.

It’s been 365 days of missing his smile, voice, friendship and wisdom…

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My husband designed this photo for my birthday!

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“In God’s Time”

Did you know all along?

Ticking away with a bird’s eye view from that balcony beam,

Watching as he walked down the aisle to marry his bride,

And across the stage to dedicate his six babies.

Up and down the steps to preach heartfelt sermons,

Along the stretching altar to lead prayers of repentance, healing, blessing and communion.

Into the warm water to baptize under the shadow of the wooden cross.

Down the aisle again to give his daughter away in marriage.

Why didn’t you warn us?

Should we have moved quicker or slower?

I wind you back for one more goodbye;

I turn your hands forward to imagine a reunion;

Both leave me broken.

You take my breath away, relentlessly pacing,

For you are out of my control.

You watch his final journey, carried in a box down the aisle;

You stopped on him!

But you didn’t miss a beat while we missed nights of sleep.

Your appointments are as unpredictable as the next wave of grief,

And as steady as the burning sunrise.

Work hard and play hard, they say.

Hebel: meaningless, vanity, fleeting…

Or is it more?

Marked, indelible impressions, changed, affected by a meaningful life.

Wisdom or folly?

I only want to walk one path.

If “remember” and “enjoy” are the words my dad would give me today,

Then, oh, time, my thanks are due.

You gave a life of goodness,

You watched a life of faithful service,

But He promised to make all things beautiful!

And so I wait…

Because if the Creator moves your hands,

He can steady my heart to a rhythm beyond your earthly pace.

You are keeping time for me from the balcony beam,

And I wonder if my dad is watching too.

So I try to make him proud,

Writing and worshipping through pain,

Because I know, in God's time, we will all see:

Orville John Zerbin, Pastor OJ, my daddy, didn’t walk one aisle in vain!

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