• Yeatoe Gloria McIntosh

Rest well with God- My Earthly King, Mr. Charles D. B. McIntosh Sr.



I lost my Dad on December 1, 2021. My world was shattered. Yes, he was 91 years old, or he would say he was in his 92nd year. Our running joke was: "we are chasing Uncle Richard," my Dad's uncle Richard lived 104 years. God called my incredible, vibrant, amazing, caring, selfless, prayer warrior and worshipper of God, entrepreneurial spirited Dad home.

I can't recall from 7:00 am December 1 to December 4, 2021. I remembered what happened at the hospital, i.e., the inequalities we experienced at the facility, but that's for another day. I drove to my sister's place, realized I could not help my mother with this pain, and hit the bed. I had on a maroon dress.

The beauty in it: Daddy died with his children praying on the phone, our Action Chapel Virginia family praying, Bishop Kibby (My spiritual Dad) with us on the phone nonstop praying, Aunty Paula calling and praying, Bishop Seth, Pastor Helena, and the prayer warriors.

I was numb. At the hearing of code blue, you could purchase me for less than a penny, but God sent his servant, Daddy Otto, years in advance because he knew this day I would need him.

I am so grateful that there are still church leaders with heart. Daddy Otto, Bishop Seth, Pastor Helena, Pastor Jeremy, my brother-friends, and sister-friends came right at the moment. Daddy Otto guarded me out of the hospital because I could have lost it more than I did. I screamed in my car so loud, and my heart was skipping beats. He spoke words of faith to me. I heard it, but my mind had crashed. Thinking many thoughts to include, how do we tell his best friend, priest, and my Older Spiritual Daddy, Fr. Bright. At 90, how do you receive the news of one of your best friends dying when you just celebrated your 90th birthday and his 91st? When I placed my head on the pillow in the same position my Dad had slept hours before his death, I had no words but a sharp pain and daze. Then, I heard my Dad perhaps a day later. I did not raise you as a weakling. Get up! Thank God! Take care of your mom! I got up, but I did not eat. I felt EMPTY, LOST for the first time in my life. I am writing only a little bit to point out where I was and how far I am now. I still have much healing. Losing Mr. Charles D. B. McIntosh Sr., Son of A Priest, is indescribable.

NEVERTHELESS

My Dad's greatest wish was for me to get out of fear and live in my beautiful destiny. So, I'm kindly asking you to please share my blog and everything I do if my story resonates with you or touches your heart because I am doing just as he instructed me.

Please remember to subscribe, invite someone, and leave your comments, prayers, and words of wisdom.

LOVE YOU TONS, CHACHA! MISS YOU MUCH!

Thanks for reading, everyone!

Also visit our I Rock Africa Blog at www.irockafrica.com

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