Last night, I asked God to please wake me between 6:00-6:30 a.m.  I woke up at exactly 6:00 a.m. (quite unheard of for me).  Now, that's an answer to prayer!  Anyway, I quietly got ready and headed out the door around 7:05 a.m.  It was a beautiful morning, with some blue sky and the sun was rising.  I looked at the clock on the dashboard - 7:10 a.m.  Then it hit me ... exactly 20 years ago to that very moment, I was alone, driving into the rising sun on a beautiful morning, for a very different reason:  I had just found out my dad had died.  I was 24 years old and in shock.  I had no business driving in that condition but I'd been ordered by my sister to do so.  We were all convening at my mom's house.  I cried and prayed and yelled most of the way.  She lived 1-1/2 hours away so I had plenty of time to get it all out.  The next 4 days were absolute hell.  Then I was supposed to return to reality, work and normalcy.  Didn't happen.  I zombied my way through my job, avoided contact with the outside world.  I didn't emerge for another month.  And my life has never been the same.  Some of you know the feeling.  The gap in your heart that only your parents can fill.  Dad never saw my husband or kids.  He never saw me as a mature adult.  It's all water under the bridge, now.  But today, in 2006, all those feelings came right back.  I cried and talked to him all the way to my destination this morning.  It's funny, I asked him if he was proud of me.  Why does that still matter?  I guess it always will.  Lord, this IS a therapy session!!  Sorry!  I tend to be dramatic but this was truly THE most dramatic event in my life.  Maybe I should fill in some background (if you can stand another story)  On New Year's Day 1985, I committed to praying for my father's salvation, all year.  My prayer was that God would use anything to lead my dad to Him.  In November of 1985, my father's brother died.  He was a strong Christian and was always telling my dad that he needed Jesus.  The day after my uncle died, I spent the entire day with my parents and when I went to leave, I went into the garage to say goodbye to my dad.  We spoke about his brother, how he was a believer and knew he would go to heaven.  I asked my dad if he knew where he would go when he died.  He said no.  I said, "Would you like to know for certain?"  He nodded.  I was so nervous but we held hands and I led him in the prayer of salvation and he repeated after me.  I'll never forget how he squeezed my hands when he ended his prayer "In Jesus' Name".  I left and later, my mom called and told me that dad came in and told her that he prayed to receive Christ as his Saviour.  That phone call ended with me leading my mom in the prayer of salvation as well.  With both parents, I made sure they understood what they had done.  I can honestly say I saw my dad grow and change in the year following.  Then, in early November of 1986, we were all together as a family for some reason and I went to leave but decided to find my dad and say goodbye.  I told him I loved him, gave him a hug.  He was busy so it was brief.  I got in my car and thought to myself, "You never know if that's the last time you'll see him."  We didn't plan to see each other on Thanksgiving that year but on the Saturday following.  But the Friday before, I heard the phone ring in the middle of a dream I was having.  It was 5:00 a.m. and when I answered the phone, no one was there.  I had been dreaming that I was in front of a firing squad.  Weird, I know.  I fell back to sleep and woke up an hour later to someone banging on my front door.  I ran to the door and my sister and bro-in-law literally fell through the door on me, telling me my dad had a heart attack and I had to come out to mom's house right away.  God, why did I have to be told like that?  I crumpled to the floor and don't remember moving anytime soon.  I may have passed out briefly, I don't remember.  I mean, this was such shock at 6:00 a.m., no warning.  My sister is such a ... oh, nevermind.  So I was ordered to get ready and be prepared to stay as long as needed at my mom's.  Can you tell I'm the youngest?  I got into my car and drove out to the desert, on a beautiful sunny morning, alone.  20 years ago today.  The most horrible day of my life.  After a time, I started piecing all the pieces together, how God led me to pray for my dad, allowed me the privilege of being present at my dad's becoming a believer, being able to say goodbye when I really didn't know it would be the last time.  God is good, even when life seems so utterly unbearable.  This morning, I asked Dad if he was talking with Richard, my stepdad whom I lost last June.  Two very wonderful men, one who loved me and raised me, the other who loved me even though he didn't have to.  Neither one of them would wish for me to be so sad.  So for their sakes, I will end here and be thankful to be blessed by their presence in my life.