A year or so around the time this picture was taken my dad walked out of my life. I had always been told it was because he left for a pack of cigarettes & never returned, no phone calls, letters, child support, birthday cards, nothing. As a child I was fine with that answer. As an adult who's dealt with so many children from ministry, preschool, & foster care, I had a feeling there was more to the story than I'd been told. A dad doesn't just leave without explanation, leaving no indication things aren't okay, never hear from him - or his family again. I lost track of all the counseling appointments I had to sit through because I'd say I hated my dad....I guess to them that meant I was messed up. Yet they expected me to love someone I didn't really know AND call him my dad - to me, that was messed up! My relationship with my stepdad was not a happy one. People used to say it was because I was disrespectful to him as a teenager - but the abuse started way before that - as early as 3rd grade from what I remember. I found a picture of me, my sisters, mom and Keith (I still don't like to refer to him as even stepdad) one sister on each other lap and I was seated next to him, everyone smiling - except me - I had scrowl on my face and was scooted as far from him as I could be. I think I was about 8 in that picture. I endured the abuse from him until I moved out and in with Leon when I was 18. I have truly only hated 1 person in my life, and it was Keith. Yes, I said hate. I meant it. And believe me....it took many, many years to be able to forgive him and release that hate. (This does not mean that the relationship was restored - in fact, when I received a phone call that he had died from MS, I didn't have any feelings at all except that I had hoped he made things right with God while his mind was still intact - it had been many years since I had seen or spoken with him)
My mom remarried abotu 4 years ago (I think, maybe more!) but I call him by his first name, or as Natalie's Papa. It's just kinda weird to me to have a new "dad" at 30something. I've never got him a card or gift, we're not really close....and to be honest, I've never asked what he expected from me as his wife's daughter - his stepdaughter. So I don't know how he feels.
So Father's Day has never been an important event for me. In fact, I came to despise it. I just couldn't understand why I should celebrate a father - either one - that had hurt me both emotionally and physically. I'd heard all the sermons about how God was my Father and I once had my pastor (Myrna Marble, at the Gospel Lighthouse in Neosho) give a Word from God to me of how "they were men my mom married, and they may have been a dad to me and hurt me but how I (God) am your Father, I'll never leave you, hurt you. I'll always be here for you."
It's amazing that although it was spoken to me at age 17, I still remember those words....because they were the first words I'd ever had spoken over me and it was so impactful to me....I'd never forget it. The first glimpse of a how a real Father should be.
I'd always thought it was strange (ok, in some cases I thought it was outright shocking) how some of my friends and their dads interacted. When we were 16-17 years old and they'd be referring to their dad as "Daddy"....I thought what kind of weird family do they belong to?! It almost embarassed me to be there when they showed affection to one another. It was such a foreign concept to me. It wasn't until after my second child, my daughter Natalie, was born and I saw how my husband, her Daddy, interacted with her that I realized, Oh my Gosh, THIS is how things are supposed to be! I then began to understand what a healthy father-daughter relationship means and looks like.
It wasn't until just a few months ago that I truly grasped the concept of what God is like as my Father. I'd heard it time and time again, I'd said it, I'd taught on it, but as far as in my heart, in my emotions, in my spirit and soul believing it, it finally took place in my car, as I was praying (in the Spirit) on the way home from a power packed Holy Ghost meeting....I had actually stepped out of the prayer line - it was getting late and since being at church most all week, I hadn't seen Leon for days except for a few minutes between him coming home and me leaving. He had sent a text saying he was going to bed, so I decided to leave. During my time of prayer, I began to prophesy over myself, (which I'd never done before) and God had spoken a great word to me about His role as my Father, and mine as His Daughter. I cried so much on the way home I almost pulled over and then I didn't want to get out of the car when I pulled in the driveway.
So here we are, it's almost Father's Day again - and this time in my life, I don't dread it. I'm not emotional, sad, or angry. I sat down this afternoon and wrote my dad a letter. I haven't spoken to him since Christmas Day 2010. (which was only the 2nd time since I was 4!) but I wanted to let him know that I hoped he had a Blessed Father's Day. I'm leaving out the part about the prophet speaking to me about me about God saying He saw me as a little girl, crying and hurting....and how I got connected with my dad - I guess that's another post - but I truly believe God doesn't drop things into place for them to be taken halfway....he Has a purpose and a plan and He's revealed it to me - to be able to help others through it. I believe restoration will take place someday - when? I don't know. All I know is it was my part to forgive - both of them - and to take the first step - as He directs them.
