I know a very special girl . . .

. . . a very highly intelligent, creative, caring girl, who is going to bear very deep wounds of rejection and emptiness, and a terrible burden of unforgiveness in her life, if we can't find a way to help her deal with the rejection she is receiving from her "dad."

She deserves so much better than this. When I heard the latest, my eyes and heart filled with tears for her. I have known for myself, and seen in others I love, the damage that this causes in a child's life. God can, of course, heal it, for all things are possible with God. But even that takes a willingness to be open and vulnerable that is nearly impossible on our own when we have known such pain.

My precious granddaughter, I love you so very much. It is a great privilege to be your grandpa. I hope that you will let me help you through this so that it will not haunt you through decades of your life. 

Pretty nice Father's Day

Although there was one conspicuous absence, I had a pretty good Father's Day, for a change. I don't know what happened to the voice of failure, but I'm not lamenting its absence. I received an especially affirming message from our oldest daughter, whose respect and love bear unmistakable testimony to the power of God's grace and healing. It would have been nice to hear from our youngest daughter, but she blessed me so abundantly on my birthday that it's hard to complain.

So one of my most historically difficult times of year has concluded. I couldn't help thinking of and praying for those I know who struggle with yesterday for some of the same reasons I do, and for completely different ones. Thank you, God, for being a Father who far transcends any failings of our own dads, or our own as dads. You use even those shortcomings and deep wounds to teach us of you, by contrast.  Thank You for your abundant, transforming, healing grace.

A memory from interior monologue

I was frustrated, as I was mowing out back, by the unused inflatable pool still in the yard, with rainwater in it again from the recent storms, despite my having asked for it to be taken care of the last time that I mowed. I noticed that my self-talk over this small annoyance sounded disconcertingly like my dad's drunken rantings in the bathroom at night after my sister and I had gone to bed.

I always hoped, when we were kids, that she was sleeping through his expletive-laced tirades. After he died, I wanted for her to have warm memories of the joy he took in her before he became completely lost.  But I learned before she died that she only remembered the scary, drunk version of dad. She didn't know she was once his pride and joy.

I continue to stand guard against other thought processes that would tend to make me more fully his son in ways that would not be good for anyone.  Perhaps a good place to be more vigilant might be to nurture the greater gratitude that he never found for the blessings of my life, along with more patience when things don't go exactly as I'd like.

An overdue post

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.

After we're welcomed home

Perhaps you had a "prodigal return" moment when everything changed as you encountered the Father . . . . The joy of coming home can quickly be replaced by the anxiety of knowing our weaknesses. When we look at the cracks and empty gaps in the foundation of our lives, we wonder if it is possible for God to build anything . . . . Though we are sons, we are acting like orphans. What I mean is that orphans see only what they lack. But sons and daughters see with gratitude the great mercy they have received, and they know their Father has more gifts in store. - Neal Lozano, Abba's Heart

Yes, it is easy to return to orphan thinking. We have so long identified with our brokenness, or with whatever we hid it behind, and we now need to identify with a Father who loves us perfectly. Even the best earthly father, whose providence includes many gifts we may not have realized we needed, cannot provide for our every need. Our earthly fathers may in fact have been far from perfect, but our heavenly Father provides for all that we need in abundance. Neal will go on to discuss how God can weave his grace and mercy even into our memories, and that is because He has been at work in our lives all along.

Sometimes I get to just relax

I'm kind of glad that Abba's Heart doesn't challenge me on every page to stop and reflect here. Sometimes it's nice to just read a few pages and soak in the stillness of the Father's loving heart for a bit.

Catching up on a promised quote

The first:

Experiencing intimacy with Jesus is often a comfort to those who have felt like orphans. Without knowing the Father, though, we cannot really know Jesus. Pope Benedict wrote that Jesus' communion with the Father is the "true center of his personality; without it, we cannot understand him at all, and it is from this center that he makes himself present to us still today." What is more, we cannot really know ourselves without the Father! In the words of St. John Paul II, writing in his papal encyclical "Rich in Mercy," "Man and man's lofty calling are revealed in Christ through the revelation of the mystery of the Father and His love." Knowing the Father reveals Jesus the Son as well as your own identity in Him.
Knowing the Father and your place in His family changes the landscape of your life. It changes your perspective on your identity, your relationships, your purpose and your destiny. - Neal Lozano, Abba's Heart

I don't know the degree to which this is true for everyone, but it is true for me. Some of my most peaceful prayer times have been those few instances, in years past, when I have imagined resting my head on my Daddy's lap and soaking in His love for me. Those moments have been too rare in the intervening years, and even now I have not returned to that image, though I will shortly. But more significantly than any single moment, this knowledge of who I truly am - rejecting the temptation to hear the adversary's invitation to forsake my true self: "If you are a child of God . . . " - is empowering me to live in freedom from ways of thinking and acting with which I have struggled for decades.

Yes, knowing that I am the child of a Father who rejoices over me and longs for me to commune with Him is making a real difference in my life.

I know that there will be new areas of struggle and growth, but that is part of the joy of becoming more fully who I am as a child of my loving Father.

Getting to know my Father

I am really enjoying this book.

Though God has no body and is neither male nor female, He is Father. (Neal has developed this thought, and I will revisit a couple of the places he has done so, but this next sentence is the one I'm trying to soak in this morning.) Human fatherhood is the pale reflection of God's pure and loving Fatherhood, not the other way around. - Neal Lozano, Abba's Heart

I was already observing how my own experiences of fatherhood, both as a son and, especially (and that word is by no means me being harsh with myself), as a father, fell so utterly short of God's perfect Fatherhood, and here is Neal gently saying that yes, that's true, but it's true for every single one of us. Even the greatest human parent is a flawed, imperfect human being who falls short in some way from being able to provide for everything that his children truly need. It is impossible for us to do more than aspire and strive toward being the sort of parent we have in the Father, in Abba. But neither Jesus's perfection as Son nor Abba's as Father are meant to be standards we can never hope to reach, even when Jesus says, "Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." (emphasis added) There's a reason why this challenging line from the Sermon on the Mount is only offered in the context of loving our enemies, who do not love us! Abba loves us so perfectly that while we were still sinners (Rom 5:8) He sent His Son to deliver us back into His heart! The perfect Fatherhood of Abba's Heart calls us, no matter how we have been broken, to know Love intimately, closely, as we can only do by loving as we are loved.

from earlier:

Many people grow up in families but still sense they are orphans, feeling lost, lonely, isolated, rejected and abandoned. They cannot receive the affirmation of their fathers and mothers, either because actions speak louder than words or their own wounds do not allow them to accept it. They sense deep down that something is wrong with them, and nobody knows it. They believe that they will never measure up.
Alienation from God the Father can be felt in the pain and emptiness left by our parents, no matter how hard they tried to fill the void. As we walk further down this path, you may be confronted with that pain and emptiness. Do not be afraid. No matter how your life began or what was taken from you, the Father holds in His heart the healing you need. What matters most is that you are moving toward His open arms.

Ahh. Balm.