What do you say, on Father's Day, to a biological father who left you to return to his family shortly after you were born, not even leaving you his name for your own?
What do you say, on Father's Day, to an adoptive father who never managed to accept you for who you were, lived as long as he could in a bourbon bottle, and when he couldn't anymore, stopped living with a self-inflicted bullet?
What do you say, on Father's Day, to a stepfather who betrayed your trust and taught you to betray yourself, who systematically trained you that there was no denying the pleasure your body wanted, who warped your entire life?
Perhaps I can finally say, to each of them, two things that are very important for me: Thank you, and I forgive you.
Stanley: Thank you for giving me life; I would not exist without you. I forgive you for not knowing what was important for a while, and for siring me during that time, and for leaving me to go back where you belonged. I hope you found yourself there, and that the love of your wife and your children overcame the void you were trying to fill.
Gary: Thank you for trying to be the dad I needed. I forgive you for not knowing how to set aside your hopes and expectations for me, your longing for your own simpler days. I know that it would be unhealthy to apologize to you for not being the son you wanted. I hope that in death you have found the grace and peace that eluded you in life, that the Savior has welcomed you home to the place in the Father's heart to which he came to restore you.
Ed: Thank you for teaching me so many of the skills I've needed. I forgive you for misusing my sexuality to serve yours, which of course you were also misusing at the same time. I hope that you have broken the bonds of sexual slavery which you did not understand were consuming you.
I struggle, still, to give this reality full rein in my life, but I pray, heavenly Father, that you will provide for each of these men the wholeness in You which we all need.
No comments:
Post a Comment