My dad passed away almost 13 years ago. The raw impact has dulled with time, but the reality that someone so essential is gone remains a painfully unflinching reality. My oldest son vaguely remembers him, but to my four other children, Pop Pop is a character in beloved stories from my childhood.

Because I want his memory to be as alive as possible, I flood the kids with stories of my dad, so he lives as a legend in their minds. From every account of him narrowly escaping death (a time or two), and surprising me with trips to the zoo, to taking me to buy my first car, my dad became a man my children were gleefully desperate to know. When my son Peter was four, he sweetly asked, “Where is Pop Pop now?”

I told Pete the truth: I don’t know.

That’s Why We Pray

I seriously doubt that my father is in hell—perish the thought—and though I hope so much that he’s in heaven among Christ, the angels, and saints, I don’t know that for certain either. We’re all familiar with Purgatory, and my family frequently prays for the poor souls there, often mentioning my dad “just in case.” Truly, it is only God who sees the fullness of a man’s heart in death, and it is only God Who knows where the soul goes.

Peter asked how long Pop Pop would have to wait if, indeed, he is in Purgatory. “When will Jesus say he’s done?” he asked me innocently.

“I’m not sure,” I said, taking his hand. “That’s why we pray for Pop Pop, so the Lord will bring him to heaven. We pray for the souls in Purgatory and then they go to be with the Lord. If Pop Pop is already there, then Jesus takes our prayers and does something else with them.”

Maybe That’s how it works

Peter furrowed his brow in childlike curiosity, “Can I pray for Pop Pop to get out?”

“Of course!” I smiled. “We do it all the time.” Pete shut his eyes tight not a second later and squeezed my hand as hard as he could. Then, opening his eyes slowly, he beamed so beautifully at me, as though he knew something I didn’t. “I did it. He’s out.”

I laughed in surprise at my son’s innocent frankness and opened my mouth to let out a “It doesn’t work quite like that…” but I stopped myself. Doesn’t it work like that? Why wouldn’t it? I had just told my inquiring child that when we persistently pray for those in Purgatory, they are released and united to the Lord. He prayed, he’s been praying, and now he’s sure the grandfather so dear to him beholds the Face of God. His childlike faith revealed humility in a way I hadn’t grasped until that point: God is Who He says He is. If He reveals that prayer furthers a soul’s progress through Purgatory, who am I to say otherwise? Who am I to live as though it’s not true?

Find Peace in Trusting

What is it about adulthood that causes us to doubt the truths we learn in our youth? Even after teaching Peter that prayer will aid the Church Suffering in Purgatory, why is it still hard for me to believe that my dad could be in heaven? I suspect that at some point in our lives, our sense of trust begins to crack, and divine revelations that call for faith become harder for us to swallow. Maybe, questions aren’t answered to our satisfaction or some kind of hurt leaves us asking why.

What remains real and constant among our doubts or hesitations is the fact that the Lord waits. He wants us to ask the unbelievable and the impossible from Him. He wants us to believe what He says and Who He is. From faith comes certainty, and from trust in the words of Christ, peace is born. During this month of the Sacred Heart, let go of your hesitations and doubts, yielding to the One Who is all goodness and love.