The Greatest Man That Ever Lived

On March 3rd 1960, fifty eight years ago, the greatest man that ever lived was born!

He was a man of honor and integrity. He loved passionately and fiercely, without fear of being wronged. He always did the right thing. He worked hard and played hard. He took responsibility seriously. He was strong and intimidating and yet kind and gentle. He embodied such a beautiful representation of Christ for me my whole life and because of that he gave me the confidence to know that I am known and loved by God. He was simple and not a man of many words but when he did speak his words carried a weight that was powerful and meaningful.

In the last eleven years I have approached this day with sadness, joy, guilt, fear, peace, anger, and many other emotions. Today, I have finally reached the point of pure celebration. That’s what birthday’s are for, right?

I plan birthday celebrations almost monthly. I attend birthdays regularly and in the community I’m blessed to be a part of, celebration of peoples lives is a huge value we all hold near and dear. Not just at the end of their lives, but sprinkled all throughout.

So today, on my dad’s 58th birthday, I want to celebrate the man he was, the things he taught me and the things I am still learning because of who he was to me. I want to remember the wonderful times that I had with him and revel in the peace and the confidence and the joy I have in those memories. I want to talk to my daughter about the man I knew and loved and I want to tell her stories of the life we lived before she was ever born.

On the day my dad was taken from me, I was lucky enough to be able to tell him how much I loved him. I told him that he was the best dad in the whole world and that I loved him more than life itself. I had absolutely no clue what was going to happen next, but I knew in my heart those words were true and I couldn’t help but tell my hero and friend just how much I loved him. A couple weeks before that, I was sitting with him in our living room as he tearfully told me how much he loved me and how proud he was of the woman that I was growing into.

I am so incredibly thankful for those memories forever etched into my mind, especially knowing what soon followed. But even more than those memories that I have in those last couple weeks, the one I am most thankful for is one that actually happened a couple years later …

I suffered from PTSD for quite a while after he died. When I would go to sleep, I would have nightmares where I would witness a murder and then the murderer was coming after me and right before he would kill me I would wake up. When I did wake up, I was absolutely terrified, crying and I would beg God to take the nightmares away from me. I wandered around my house at night fearfully checking all of the windows and doors to make sure that the doors were locked and the blinds were all closed properly so no one could snipe me through the tiny little hole while I slept. I had crazy, unrealistic fears that were nocturnally induced and they were debilitating at times.

Because of this I found myself hoping and praying that I wouldn’t dream at all because it was just too scary and hard for me. Waking up and realizing that my dad was still dead was hard enough as it was but adding in the fear for my life on top of that was just too much for me to bear.

In all of this, eventually, I stopped dreaming altogether. Finally, the fear went away and I was able to peacefully get through the night. Around the time the PTSD went away I had one last dream though. Only this time, it wasn’t really a dream at all.

I found myself walking through a field with my dad and talking to him like I always did. I knew that he was dead and he and I were talking about how he was gone and wasn’t going to come back. We walked around for a long time and talked for what felt like hours. He told me that he loved me once again, in the same way he did a couple weeks before he died. He told me that I was going to be OK. He told me that I can do all of “this” without him and that I was stronger than I even knew. He told me that I had a lot left to do in this life and that it was almost time for me to wake up and I began to cry. He told me that he was OK and that he would be waiting for me and then he said again that I was going to need to wake up soon. I fell to the ground, balling and begged him not to go and he bent down and told me that he loved me and reminded me yet again that I was not just going to be OK but that I was going to thrive and then … I woke up. In my dark room. In my little bed. All alone. I woke up balling, crying so hard and then I begged God to let me back into my ‘dream’. I kept trying to do anything that I could to get back to my dad but he was gone. Forever this time.

I remember being so upset with both God and my dad at the time. I thought to myself how could they do this to me? I had never wished to be dead before this moment, even in everything I went through immediately following my dad’s death but in the days following that encounter, I longed to be in the afterlife with my dad and with God. It took me a really long time to believe the words that he told me that night. That I was going to be OK and that I was going to thrive. That I had a lot left to do and that I was strong.

I find myself now, years after this encounter, so thankful for so many reasons. I am so known and loved by God. My dad showed me my whole life, before and after he died. God shows me every day and he cares so deeply that I am whole and healed in every way. He knew that the last memory that I had of my dad needed to be healed and so when I was ready he brought me back to that night and he went through it all with me. He spoke truth into my situation and he helped me to let go of the things I no longer had. Even more than that, He gave me one last memory and encounter with my dad that was sweet and pure. He allowed us to meet in the spirit realm and He gave us permission to properly disconnect our hearts from each other. He allowed us to have a real goodbye.

I am brought to tears knowing just how much my Father cares for me. Allowing me to have this one last memory of my dad has shown me so much more about His heart toward me than I ever thought possible. His love is so deep. He’s fighting for my wholeness, for my peace and for my future. He redeemed my dream life and my final memory with my dad. In everything He is merciful and kind, always gentle and always allowing us the choice to participate in what He’s doing.

I want to take today to celebrate the greatest man that ever lived. I am so thankful for every memory I have of him. I celebrate a life well lived, from beginning to end and beyond. I am so proud to be his daughter. I love knowing that he is seated in Heavenly places, next to my Father, championing me and my family, praying and interceding on our behalf, knowing the end from the beginning, with Jesus, and watching as our lives unfold.

Happy Birthday Donald Lee Zahner, the greatest man that ever lived.