I CAN ONLY IMAGINE. Pts. 1-3

My wife and I first saw the movie, “I Can Only Imagine” a few months ago, and enjoyed it a great deal.

While I was at “Dollar General” today, I purchased a couple of boxes of envelopes, and an ice cream sandwich; (which I ate on the way to the post office). And as I was checking out, I noticed a one video video display on the counter.

“I Can Only Imagine”

$19.98

And while the price wasn’t exactly right, I decided to buy one of the last three remaining copies, and we lost no time watching the movie all over again; along with a ton of special features, including deleted scenes and cast bios.

In the movie, Michael Finley portrays the lead singer, Bart Millard, of “Mercy Me,” (and does an admirable job of it). Second only to Finley in importance, and the time devoted to his character is Dennis Quaid, who portrays Bart’s father.

In the movie, he is characterized as nothing less than a monster. And in fact, “in real life” he was verbally and physically abusive to his wife and children.

Ultimately, Bart “hits the big time” with the single, “I Can Only Imagine;” (a song which my mother loved, and hoped I would sing at her funeral, but substituted “Amazing Grace,” instead).

As I watched the movie a second time, I realized I had a great deal in common with the main character.

While my father was by no means a monster, not even close, I believe, like the Dennis Quaid character, he was impacted by his childhood, and growing up during The Great Depression. And, as a result, he never quite knew how to relate to his children, lacked the wherewithal to say, “I Love You,” (unless I, or my siblings said it first) as well as that equally crucial four word sentence, “I’m proud of you.”

And while, like Bart, I was deprived of these three and four word sentences, unlike Bart I knew my father both loved me and was proud of me.

Pt. 2

As Michael Finley depicts the first ever debut of, “I Can Only Imagine,” a couple of thousand patrons sit spell-bound. And as he sings the last few words of the song, the multiplied men, women and children in the audience fade in his minds eye, and Bart finds himself gazing at just as many empty chairs, save one.

The theater is suddenly bathed in light, and yet he can just make out a lone figure a few rows from the back; standing now, and clapping his hands. The camera zeros in on Dennis Quaid, and it must be said that no one in this, or any other universe ever wore a smile like he is capable of wearing.

Now, Mr. Millard offers Bart the recognition of which he was so badly deprived during his formative years. Abject pride bathes his countenance.

Bart’s father contracted cancer, but came to a saving knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ prior to his death. I believe my own father surrendered his life to the Lord during the final few months of his own life. Interestingly enough, both Bart’s father and my father reconciled any unforgiveness or misunderstanding with Bart, and me, respectively, prior to their passing.

Speaking of empty chairs, i.e. the foregoing scene in the movie, I once wrote a blog which spoke to the topic of the chair in which my father once sat, and the realization that he would never again sit there.

However, so much like Bart, I am left with my memories, and can still visualize him seated there, doing the things he did during the course of his waning years.

Did I mention Dennis Quaid exudes the most dazzling smile in human history? (Yeah, I thought I did). If this is the case, I think my father ran a close second.

Pt. 3

My sister forwarded a photo of my dad to me after his passing; one which I don’t recall seeing before.

The picture depicts my dad at the age of perhaps 65 or 70; 15 to 20 years before our Lord called him home to Glory. When I asked her, Linda informed me that the photograph was snapped in Robbinsville, NC; along a river where my parents had purchased a cabin. It seems my dad was in the process of building a dock, though no structure, whatsoever, can be seen.

In the picture Daddy is wearing the most bedraggled clothes I have ever seen him wear. His jeans are replete with holes, and stains, and his upper body is clothed in a dirty t-shirt. In spite of the condition of his clothing, my father appears to be staring directly into the camera lens, wearing a smile which might easily compete with the sun, and with one hand raised in greeting, (or farewell); so much like the scene in, “I Can Only Imagine.”

Interestingly enough, as recently as I came into possession of this unique picture, it has become my all-time favorite of my dad.

And I think I like it so much because it so well characterizes the journey we know as life and death.

I think the river represents the threshold between this life and the next. That both literal and proverbial river we call Jordan.

My father’s torn and dirty clothing speaks to the trials, troubles and turmoil of life, and the manner in which it inflicts pain and suffering on all of us.

Whereas, the exuberant smile, and raised hand is all about the conclusion of such momentary symptoms, the joy which awaits the redeemed, and that one final opportunity to bid a fond “fare thee well,” but not goodbye.

I can only imagine

By William McDonald, PhD. From (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 83. Copyright pending

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