My earthly father is a difficult man to please. His standard is perfection. So is my heavenly Father's. But there is a difference between them.
Growing up I would come home with report cards that had an A- in a sea of A's and my father would look at that A- and tell me I should do better, because the kid next door brought home all A's. Eventually, I stopped caring about the A's and just cruised in school. It was a clear message, among many, to my father that I didn't really care about what he wanted ... or maybe it was a plea for attention? Anyway, psychobabblle aside, bottom line was I stopped trying to live up to his standard.
When my brother was born, my relationship with my father deteriorated because he finally had his "Junior". After all, six years of having a "Daddy's little girl" wasn't quite cutting it. It only got progressively worst from there and when I got involved with a man he didn't approve of, what tenuous relations I had with him completely disappeared.
When my first marriage started failing, I confided and sought comfort and solace only from my mom. I did not dare talk to my father or seek his advise. In my mind, I was his living disappointment and I wasn't going to give him another reason to reinforce that. His "blessings" for the divorce came through my mom, only because my mom told him every sordid detail that she knew about my ex-husband. By the time the divorce became final the man I had called "Daddy" throughout my life had become "my father" to convey to him that he no longer was a part of my life. He had become a figurehead of the family I belonged to, whose counsel I didn't care for and whose love I can do without.
In the fall of 2000, I opened my heart to Jesus Christ and I was slowly introduced to our heavenly Father and all that He is capable of. As my relationship with God grew I came face to face with the relationship, or lack thereof, that I had with my earthly father and I knew without a doubt that the healing had begun.
The restoration of my relationship with my earthly father is a slow process. My Dad and I started having short, civil conversations instead of screaming matches. I stopped systematically rolling my eyes at the sound of his voice. I also realized that as difficult as my Dad is, he has remained faithful to my Mom through 43 years of marriage and despite the approach he took in all of our lives, he only had the best of intentions for all of us.
The more I experience grace, mercy, kindness, love and compassion in my relationship with our heavenly Father, the more my heart opened towards my Dad. Eventually, I came to a place where I could ask for the very same things from my dad as well as the ability to give him grace, mercy, kindness and compassion. There too was the revelation that I do not hate my dad, on the contrary, I love my dad very much.
Father's Day pasts were filled with anxieties and ran the gamut of emotions from "exercise in futility to "why do I even bother." This time around, I'm praying for a better outcome. With Father's Day 2007 approaching, I found myself reflecting on where I currently stand with my Dad and I can only praise God for slowly healing my heart and opening opportunities for my Dad and I to heal past hurts.
It's not an easy road to walk because my Dad remains a difficult man. There are days when we revert to what we used to be, but, just like in my relationship with my heavenly Father, now there is reconciliation as well. And every day that I bask in God's grace, God adds a new layer of respect, grace, mercy, love and peace between me and my earthly father.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
An Epiphany
A few months ago, I was expressing some dissatisfaction with my church. I went as far as telling my husband that I was ready to move on. I had begun the process of "church-shopping". I was looking at another building where I can sit in the pew, plug my spiritual umbilical cord to whoever happened to be teaching that day and most importantly live my "Christian" faith in anonymity and seclusion, just me and God.
My dissatisfaction stemmed from a number of things. Primarily it was the nagging feeling that I no longer "belonged" to this congregation. I've outlived my purpose, and as one of my Pastors succinctly described, I've been "shelved."
I was also becoming increasingly aware of the differences in perspective among several members and leaders in my church and I was at a crossroads. I looked to my Pastors and took note of their perspectives. I then looked to my mentor and discipler and took note of his and the differences bothered me. Mind you there were no heretical thoughts or impulses in either party, mostly it was an exchange of thoughts and ideologies where most fell in the "yes... but" category. All amicable, all done in love and yet again, why the differences? If we're all loved by and are all followers of the one true God why the differences?
Then, I had an epiphany. My epiphany was so unexpected and so profound that in the middle of worship, one Sunday morning, tears started welling up. I love my church! Not the sanctuary, not the fellowship hall, not the baptismal "pool", not the grounds, but the people who make up my church. The people who, except for a handful, I sit with every Sunday and spend a few passing hours with. Whose lives, for the most part, I know nothing about. Differences or whatever else be damned.
I'm not going to lie, there are days that I still struggle with the things that I perceive as "different". As recently as last week, I had another bout with wanting to leave my church. One of my Pastors gave me a different perspective and when I look at it from that angle, it makes perfect sense, but only from that particular angle. There are days that I want to abandon the ship altogether and the same Pastor asked me where I was going to go and I couldn't come up with an answer that makes sense because everything comes back to the one Holy God.
My husband calls it a season of the soul. I call it my fallen, sinful nature and through the worst of it, I can only cling to God's grace, love and mercy to get me through. And God does - get me through.
Through all the muddled, boo-hoo-hooing that I was experiencing, God reached out and gave me a renewed purpose. Instead of running away, God has placed this group of people in the forefront of my life so I can help and serve and build up my church. Instead of focusing on the imperfections, God has allowed me to see the love when my church rallied to the side of a man convicted of a crime he didn't commit. Instead of whining about what my church wasn't doing, God provided me with an opportunity to minister to those who are hurting. God gave me a precious gift in my ward and my small group.
And now I pray that instead of feeling left out and shelved, God will open doors and bring me to those who need my help. After all, in everything that I do, I do for His greater glory. For only from Him do I get the strength and only from Him comes the ability and the source of my epiphany.
My dissatisfaction stemmed from a number of things. Primarily it was the nagging feeling that I no longer "belonged" to this congregation. I've outlived my purpose, and as one of my Pastors succinctly described, I've been "shelved."
I was also becoming increasingly aware of the differences in perspective among several members and leaders in my church and I was at a crossroads. I looked to my Pastors and took note of their perspectives. I then looked to my mentor and discipler and took note of his and the differences bothered me. Mind you there were no heretical thoughts or impulses in either party, mostly it was an exchange of thoughts and ideologies where most fell in the "yes... but" category. All amicable, all done in love and yet again, why the differences? If we're all loved by and are all followers of the one true God why the differences?
Then, I had an epiphany. My epiphany was so unexpected and so profound that in the middle of worship, one Sunday morning, tears started welling up. I love my church! Not the sanctuary, not the fellowship hall, not the baptismal "pool", not the grounds, but the people who make up my church. The people who, except for a handful, I sit with every Sunday and spend a few passing hours with. Whose lives, for the most part, I know nothing about. Differences or whatever else be damned.
I'm not going to lie, there are days that I still struggle with the things that I perceive as "different". As recently as last week, I had another bout with wanting to leave my church. One of my Pastors gave me a different perspective and when I look at it from that angle, it makes perfect sense, but only from that particular angle. There are days that I want to abandon the ship altogether and the same Pastor asked me where I was going to go and I couldn't come up with an answer that makes sense because everything comes back to the one Holy God.
My husband calls it a season of the soul. I call it my fallen, sinful nature and through the worst of it, I can only cling to God's grace, love and mercy to get me through. And God does - get me through.
Through all the muddled, boo-hoo-hooing that I was experiencing, God reached out and gave me a renewed purpose. Instead of running away, God has placed this group of people in the forefront of my life so I can help and serve and build up my church. Instead of focusing on the imperfections, God has allowed me to see the love when my church rallied to the side of a man convicted of a crime he didn't commit. Instead of whining about what my church wasn't doing, God provided me with an opportunity to minister to those who are hurting. God gave me a precious gift in my ward and my small group.
And now I pray that instead of feeling left out and shelved, God will open doors and bring me to those who need my help. After all, in everything that I do, I do for His greater glory. For only from Him do I get the strength and only from Him comes the ability and the source of my epiphany.
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