Some memories warm me and so I let them. Like, when the sunlight would dance on the water when I was a kid. Those summers were my happiest, feeling the heat on my skin and the fast wind in my hair matted from lake water. My legs would be so tired from water skiing and somehow I loved the ache that made me know I had nothing but wild fun that day.

I was good at it because my Daddy taught me how. It was a process, but I’m such a determined person. I knew if I just held on tight enough and did what he said, eventually I would glide across the water. Holding on until my skinny legs couldn’t take it anymore and my arms felt like jelly, I would let go and put my hands in the air as high as I could and melt into the sweet summertime, kicking off my skis.

The first time I fell, I hit hard, choking on lake water and wondering where my skis went. I never worried about the distance between the boat and me because he was watching, someone was always watching, and the flag would go up to let the other boaters know I was in the water. And then he would circle the boat around to get me.

Fall after fall, it happened like clockwork and it didn’t matter how much it hurt, help was on the way. He would circle that boat around and pull me back in every time. And this feisty girl always wanted to try again.

Over the years, things would get harder, life would change, his daughters would marry and move away, babies were lost, babies were born. Life happened changing hair shades of silver and he would cover it until he grew into his grey. I liked his hair that way. In many ways, we were still circling our boat around to pick each other up. Through rights and wrongs, fights and making up, love made circles around us, never leaving us stranded in water that was too deep for us.

We never stopped making circles around each other, not ever. This was unchangeable. Love doesn’t walk away, it just swings back to make sure you have a big rope pulling you back in. And sometimes the rope isn’t long enough, but you keep extending it, anyway.

I have so many memories and I’m thankful for being loved that much.

The circling has stopped and saying goodbye looks much like a large body of water that I’m not quite sure if I’m supposed to glide across it or sink into it. Perhaps both. When it gets hard, and it does, I remember my Abba, who loved his circling wanderers who wasted forty years in a desert complaining. I pray and ask God to help me circle the right things and the right path.

I’m certain that God is circling around to rescue me in my sinking and sadness while dealing with the loss of my father.

Maybe I’ll write more about this, maybe I won’t because there are certain pieces of me that are too sacred to end up on a page. But, every piece of me is whole and free because love made big circles around me all of my life.

I couldn’t fix the broken things inside of him. No one could, but we circled our boats around him and loved him. And in the end, that is enough because that’s what love does. It doesn’t leave you stranded.

I thought I had more time, but I was wrong.

His body is at rest now, no more pain from a worn-out heart and body. He looked like peace when I said goodbye and as hard as it was to leave that room where he rested, nothing was left undone.

One last time I said, “Goodbye, Daddy.”

Circle the ones you love in prayer and use all your best words, swallow your worst ones. Say, “I love you,” every time you think it and just once more to make sure they didn’t forget. Circle with arms that embrace and grace that covers what time can’t erase, love even when it’s work and keep making those big, wide circles.

This is what love does. It circles because love never leaves you stranded.

Much love,

Jennifer Renee

I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. (John 14:8)

Come, Lord Jesus, and make circles around the hearts of those who might be hurting today. Let them know you are with them, always. Teach us to make circles around the ones we love and those we can’t understand. Teach us how to grab the rope when we are the ones sinking. You are our biggest life preserver and we cling to you. Amen.