Missing Papi

"As the deer pants for streams of water

so my soul longs after You, O God."

Psalm 42:1, NIV

In November of 1980, my siblings and I were talking in the gallerie (the front porch) of our small house when the topic changed to a single word:

Papi. 

I heavily sighed, "I miss Papi."

That sentiment was echoed by all of us. We all wished he could have been home at that very moment. We all wished he could have laughed and hung out with us on that exact day.

Yet, the truth was, Papi was not home that day. In fact, he was not home all that often during those early years of my life because he was chosen as a missionary by UEBH (Union of Evangelical Baptists of Haiti) to take the good news of Christ to a remote, mountainous village in northern Haiti known as Bas-Molas.

Bas-Molas was then characterized by a rocky landscape, a creek named Mazanbek, serpentine trails for walking, a strong voodoo presence, no roads for vehicle transportation, no electricity, no running water, no civilization. When Papi had first set foot in that area six years earlier, he found most everyone there either uneducated, poor, or dirty. He eventually opened a primary school, planted a church, and counseled families in crisis. All of the above services and more were rendered; in return, he was given the miniscule remunition of $30 a month.

The people of Bas-Molas came to love Papi a great deal because he was much more than a missionary to them. He was a friend, pastor, teacher, counselor, employer, disciplinarian, provider, confidant -- he was everything that pointed them to Christ, the Source of all comfort.

For us, his family, we certainly viewed Bas-Molas as a huge blessing because it provided Papi with ample opportunities to work in the fields -- gardening and farming -- in order to supplement what his meager income could not supply.

So, Papi lived away from the family for the greater part of a month and would come see us about once a month. His visits consisted of bringing food and charcoal for our survival in Port-au-Prince, hugging and kissing his children, spending time with Manmie, and encouraging us with God's Word.

There were also moments I dreaded about his visits -- like the tough disciplinary issues Manmie would, on rare occasions, wait until Papi came home to address with me. Wanting to raise the perfect little boy, he would be unmistakably stern and strict with me. And I, not wanting to disappoint him in any way, was often terrified I would mess up. There were also the times when I needed to ask for money (begging is not my forte) or the times when he was genuinely busy -- reading his Bible or working on a sermon.

For the most part, however, it was the "missing" that characterized our relationship.

I missed him.
I missed seeing him.
I missed hearing him sing.
I missed watching him kiss Manmie.
I missed receiving his words of advice to my older siblings.

I missed not being able to share my hurts, fears, doubts, concerns, wishes, and dreams with him. I missed his hand rumpling my hair, his rough fingers touching my face, his deep voice talking and singing to me, his stubbly face prickling my lips when saying good night, his words of approval spurring me on, and his not being there for hoped-for father and son events.

I missed him.
I longed for his presence.
I desired to have his guidance.

I wanted to have the tangible joys that result from having direct access to a caring yet earthly dad. But, in the end, he was earthly; he couldn't be in two places at once. Though I did not realize it then, I was really looking for God. In Papi, I was seeking the Father in whom are housed all that I will ever need as a beloved son. Only the God of heaven is omnipresent, omnibenevolent, omnipotent, and omniscient. He alone is the Father who can fulfill and satisfy me completely!

Heavenly Father, thank You for drawing me to You through the absence of my earthly father in my early childhood. Draw this follower, this child of Yours closer to You each and every day!