Conspiratorial commiseration

Sometimes it isn't at all helpful.

In short

It's time I quit dreading and hating father's day and just let it (and myself) be.

(Now, to turn back to that thought like I have my historical ones . . . )

Too much introspection . . .

. . .  isn't good for one's emotional health.

Too much dwelling on how I'm feeling, too much feeling entitled to it, keeps me from just being in the moment, from moving on, from making the good decisions that I and the people I love need.  Too much being convinced that I don't have what I need to do what I must keeps me from doing what I must, and causes me to turn to crutches I don't need.  Too much embracing my hurt and brokenness, wrapping myself protectively around it and around my entitlement to it, keeps me from forgiving and from not hurting anymore.

I don't know that there is any point to all of this beyond an indigestion-driven rambling in the middle of the night.  I don't know the degree to which this shoe even fits me anymore.  I just know that fixing my focus on the wrong things, no matter how much I may be right about them, is fruitless.  There isn't any use in being right about or entitled to something that just makes me turn toward  my dark resignation to who I have long since chosen not to be any longer, and away from the strength I need to be who I'm called to be.

There it is.  We cling to our entitlement to our thoughts and feelings as if it is worth something when it isn't, and when clinging to it keeps us from grasping something - some One - who is worth everything, who alone empowers us to be more than we think we are.

Father's Day

There are two kinds of people who celebrate Father's Day:

• Those who weren't utter failures as fathers are able to bask in the appreciation of their children.  These are the guys who may be a little embarrassed by their World's Greatest Dad mug that they know is at most a harmless bit of hyperbole.
• Those who didn't have utter failures as fathers are able to honor them for the difference they made in their lives.  It's true that I wouldn't be who I am without any of the three of mine, but I can't celebrate any of them.  All I can do is pray for each of them.

Since I don't fall into either category, therefore I dread, loathe, and detest Father's Day.  At least I can celebrate the memory of Teri's dad, for the difference he made to me as a patient and forgiving father-in-law.

An unintentionally painful reminder

So the "selfless thing" about me that Teri called to my attention was "letting" her travel regularly.  I suppose.  I'm glad and jealous that she can visit with the people we love.  Then she followed up by pointing out that she wishes I had family to go visit on my own like she does.

Sigh.