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The Passion Well
Chapter 6:
The Passion Well
Chapter 6:
The Grace Of A Moment To Forgive
***
Job 14:2 (NLT)
"We blossom like a flower and then wither. Like a passing shadow, we quickly disappear."
***
I was in my late twenties some years later when the day of forgiving and being at peace with my dad finally took place. I was deep into the building of my own life and family and for the most part still guarded it somewhat cautiously from my dad where he was concerned. We had a casual and polite relationship, but in the back of my mind and in my heart I certainly hadn't forgotten anything and I hadn't really forgiven him. But one Sunday, approximately midday, I had an unexplainable and overwhelming desire to go visit my dad out of the blue. I couldn't explain it, but it was inexplicably urgent enough that I told my wife where I was going in a panic, jumped in the truck and drove 45 minutes to see him.
By this time in life, dad had grown close to the Lord and was in a deep and intimate relationship with Him. He was very much a changed man, but in my heart I still hadn't been able to completely forgive him or let my guard down. Dad had tried multiple times since my time at home to draw close to me and to make amends, but inside I had suspiciously held him at arms length. Emotions from years earlier always seemed to overwhelm anything else and block any forward progress toward a real forgiveness on my part. I struggled endlessly with the question: Do I trust him? So the unexpected moment that I experienced with him that day while standing in his livingroom was poignant, deep and long overdue. It was the moment that I surrendered my fear and my anger and I forgave my dad. I let go of all of the bitterness ... and I found that it was actually me that was freed.
After hearing what I felt compelled to say quite spontaneously during that unexpected afternoon visit, he stood and we held each other for a long time without saying a word. It was the first time that I allowed myself to truly notice the gentle and loving spirit behind his gentle blue eyes. It was a completely spontaneous meeting, but at the same time it was oddly as though he somehow knew that I was coming and why I was there. It was an overwhelming and unexpected moment in life that was surprising, redeeming and precious. In my conversation I spoke from my heart and uttered the words that I knew his heart had ached to hear for years. In reflection, I know that this was an answer to my Dad's sincere and earnest prayers and was in preparation for what was to come...
I left his home that day in complete peace, joy and exhilaration thinking about all of the things that we had not shared during my teen years as father and son because of the brokenness of our relationship and also what we would do now to make up for it. The moment that I stood in the middle of his living room that day and looked at him without any fear in my heart was years in the making. I am in no wise suggesting that my dad was a bad person. He wasn't. But like any of us have the ability to do, he had his own struggles and made some serious mistakes in our relationship without understanding the devastating effects that they had on me - and the damage had been deep.
It was healing for both of us and on the way home that day I was filled with overwhelming joy and daydreaming about hunting trips and camping, fishing etc. things we hadn't shared together. Or maybe just honest father and son talks without a persistent and resident fear of him in my heart. Just two guys having one of those thoughtful discussions where wisdom steeped in experience is passed from one male generation to another - potentially life changing. Oh the things I had missed that could suddenly become reality ... then, two days later at about 4:00 in the morning on Valentines Day, I received the phone call informing me that without any warning, ... at 50 years old, my dad was very suddenly ... dead.
My response to my dad's sudden death was of course anguish, but also fury. The fury I aimed at the God that I suddenly held responsible for being so inexplicably cruel. All of my teen years I lived aching without the close trusting relationship with my dad that I had seen others share with theirs. I had even witnessed a kindness between my dad and other young people that I longed for and it made me jealous. I longed to be that young person sharing a relaxed and pleasant conversation with my own dad. My conversations and interactions with him during those years were always pensive with a fear that they could suddenly end badly if I made any misstep, stumbling in my choice of words or the wrong expression on my face. I was so physically afraid of him. Now, at the moment that everything that I had so longed for seemed to become imminently possible, my unexpected new and amazing dream was instantly and unapologetically crushed ... that was my perspective.
In the absence of a father figure that I felt I could safely be close to, my father-in-law had become my best friend over a period of about 10 years of marriage to his daughter. He was just that kind of guy that people loved to be around. He was a disciplined, living believer, a fascinating, fun loving and altogether interesting character. He treated me very much like one of his own and we consequently spent a lot of time together... but three months after my dad passed away, my best friend, my father-in-law was taken home without warning also, at 48 years of age. I was devastated beyond expression...
My wife and I were emotionally bankrupt.
It was as if someone had sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere and we couldn't breathe. We couldn't come to grips with what had happened as individuals, let alone properly grieve together and console each other in effective and positive ways. There were no answers to the big question - WHY? ... Or maybe there was ... I just held it in and let it smolder a little and nag me while simultaneously riddling me with guilt for what I was thinking so shamefully...
We couldn't stop life in midstream so we pressed on. We tried to put our hearts back together as best we could and focus on our growing family and life's daily struggles. But in some ways, we knew that we could never be the same. For my part it hardened me further and even more emphasized in my heart a feeling that I had developed early in my marriage to my beautiful young wife. Because we were married so young and so quickly, we were ridiculed heavily by most people our own age, by people in the community and even by some relatives. We were left feeling largely abandoned and almost as though we had some kind of communicable disease that they might catch. We were told to our faces that our marriage wouldn't last and it all went together to form a resolve that declared "it's you and me against the world". I uttered those words to her more than once. Looking at her now in the wake of what was our current devastation, I uttered them once more to myself and turned my face defiantly toward the future with a solid resolve to forcefully overcome anything that got in my way - anything ... and anyone.
The combination of things that I had gone through and the responsibilities that I was carrying prior to our dads passing had made me become very self reliant and strong - or so I thought. I felt that life experiences to this point had toughened me and that I could now handle just about anything. I was again drifting further away from the very thing I needed most and the distance that I would trust anyone with few exceptions was fairly short and carefully measured. But those feelings of strength and overcoming were all suddenly shaken as if the rug had been pulled out from under me by the death of two ever present forces I'd known in life.
In reflection now, I think that even strong young men have a tendency to count on things that they don't consider with any conscious forethought. Even though my relationship with my dad had been well less than what it could have been, as a young man there was a certain continuity, a consistency to life that was present simply because both he and my father-in-law were there figuratively standing behind me. When they were taken out of my life's equation, I was completely lost inside and on the edge of a dark void that I couldn't see my way across at the time. I felt inexplicably alone and vulnerable like on a tightrope high above rocks below and the question of why the Lord would decide that it had to be this way haunted me and I harbored resentment toward Him for doing it. For some reason, He wanted to hurt me - that was my perspective.
The realization of the fact that "I was alone now" and that the responsibilities that I carried still had to be maintained forced me to "suck it up". I had no one left to lean on now if by some chance we stumbled in the future. So I shook off those vulnerable feelings, put my head down and charged into what remained of life like an enraged bull on a mission.
If the page appears blank and you don't see the post that you're looking for, please scroll up.
***
Job 14:2 (NLT)
"We blossom like a flower and then wither. Like a passing shadow, we quickly disappear."
***
I was in my late twenties some years later when the day of forgiving and being at peace with my dad finally took place. I was deep into the building of my own life and family and for the most part still guarded it somewhat cautiously from my dad where he was concerned. We had a casual and polite relationship, but in the back of my mind and in my heart I certainly hadn't forgotten anything and I hadn't really forgiven him. But one Sunday, approximately midday, I had an unexplainable and overwhelming desire to go visit my dad out of the blue. I couldn't explain it, but it was inexplicably urgent enough that I told my wife where I was going in a panic, jumped in the truck and drove 45 minutes to see him.
By this time in life, dad had grown close to the Lord and was in a deep and intimate relationship with Him. He was very much a changed man, but in my heart I still hadn't been able to completely forgive him or let my guard down. Dad had tried multiple times since my time at home to draw close to me and to make amends, but inside I had suspiciously held him at arms length. Emotions from years earlier always seemed to overwhelm anything else and block any forward progress toward a real forgiveness on my part. I struggled endlessly with the question: Do I trust him? So the unexpected moment that I experienced with him that day while standing in his livingroom was poignant, deep and long overdue. It was the moment that I surrendered my fear and my anger and I forgave my dad. I let go of all of the bitterness ... and I found that it was actually me that was freed.
After hearing what I felt compelled to say quite spontaneously during that unexpected afternoon visit, he stood and we held each other for a long time without saying a word. It was the first time that I allowed myself to truly notice the gentle and loving spirit behind his gentle blue eyes. It was a completely spontaneous meeting, but at the same time it was oddly as though he somehow knew that I was coming and why I was there. It was an overwhelming and unexpected moment in life that was surprising, redeeming and precious. In my conversation I spoke from my heart and uttered the words that I knew his heart had ached to hear for years. In reflection, I know that this was an answer to my Dad's sincere and earnest prayers and was in preparation for what was to come...
I left his home that day in complete peace, joy and exhilaration thinking about all of the things that we had not shared during my teen years as father and son because of the brokenness of our relationship and also what we would do now to make up for it. The moment that I stood in the middle of his living room that day and looked at him without any fear in my heart was years in the making. I am in no wise suggesting that my dad was a bad person. He wasn't. But like any of us have the ability to do, he had his own struggles and made some serious mistakes in our relationship without understanding the devastating effects that they had on me - and the damage had been deep.
It was healing for both of us and on the way home that day I was filled with overwhelming joy and daydreaming about hunting trips and camping, fishing etc. things we hadn't shared together. Or maybe just honest father and son talks without a persistent and resident fear of him in my heart. Just two guys having one of those thoughtful discussions where wisdom steeped in experience is passed from one male generation to another - potentially life changing. Oh the things I had missed that could suddenly become reality ... then, two days later at about 4:00 in the morning on Valentines Day, I received the phone call informing me that without any warning, ... at 50 years old, my dad was very suddenly ... dead.
My response to my dad's sudden death was of course anguish, but also fury. The fury I aimed at the God that I suddenly held responsible for being so inexplicably cruel. All of my teen years I lived aching without the close trusting relationship with my dad that I had seen others share with theirs. I had even witnessed a kindness between my dad and other young people that I longed for and it made me jealous. I longed to be that young person sharing a relaxed and pleasant conversation with my own dad. My conversations and interactions with him during those years were always pensive with a fear that they could suddenly end badly if I made any misstep, stumbling in my choice of words or the wrong expression on my face. I was so physically afraid of him. Now, at the moment that everything that I had so longed for seemed to become imminently possible, my unexpected new and amazing dream was instantly and unapologetically crushed ... that was my perspective.
In the absence of a father figure that I felt I could safely be close to, my father-in-law had become my best friend over a period of about 10 years of marriage to his daughter. He was just that kind of guy that people loved to be around. He was a disciplined, living believer, a fascinating, fun loving and altogether interesting character. He treated me very much like one of his own and we consequently spent a lot of time together... but three months after my dad passed away, my best friend, my father-in-law was taken home without warning also, at 48 years of age. I was devastated beyond expression...
My wife and I were emotionally bankrupt.
It was as if someone had sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere and we couldn't breathe. We couldn't come to grips with what had happened as individuals, let alone properly grieve together and console each other in effective and positive ways. There were no answers to the big question - WHY? ... Or maybe there was ... I just held it in and let it smolder a little and nag me while simultaneously riddling me with guilt for what I was thinking so shamefully...
We couldn't stop life in midstream so we pressed on. We tried to put our hearts back together as best we could and focus on our growing family and life's daily struggles. But in some ways, we knew that we could never be the same. For my part it hardened me further and even more emphasized in my heart a feeling that I had developed early in my marriage to my beautiful young wife. Because we were married so young and so quickly, we were ridiculed heavily by most people our own age, by people in the community and even by some relatives. We were left feeling largely abandoned and almost as though we had some kind of communicable disease that they might catch. We were told to our faces that our marriage wouldn't last and it all went together to form a resolve that declared "it's you and me against the world". I uttered those words to her more than once. Looking at her now in the wake of what was our current devastation, I uttered them once more to myself and turned my face defiantly toward the future with a solid resolve to forcefully overcome anything that got in my way - anything ... and anyone.
The combination of things that I had gone through and the responsibilities that I was carrying prior to our dads passing had made me become very self reliant and strong - or so I thought. I felt that life experiences to this point had toughened me and that I could now handle just about anything. I was again drifting further away from the very thing I needed most and the distance that I would trust anyone with few exceptions was fairly short and carefully measured. But those feelings of strength and overcoming were all suddenly shaken as if the rug had been pulled out from under me by the death of two ever present forces I'd known in life.
In reflection now, I think that even strong young men have a tendency to count on things that they don't consider with any conscious forethought. Even though my relationship with my dad had been well less than what it could have been, as a young man there was a certain continuity, a consistency to life that was present simply because both he and my father-in-law were there figuratively standing behind me. When they were taken out of my life's equation, I was completely lost inside and on the edge of a dark void that I couldn't see my way across at the time. I felt inexplicably alone and vulnerable like on a tightrope high above rocks below and the question of why the Lord would decide that it had to be this way haunted me and I harbored resentment toward Him for doing it. For some reason, He wanted to hurt me - that was my perspective.
The realization of the fact that "I was alone now" and that the responsibilities that I carried still had to be maintained forced me to "suck it up". I had no one left to lean on now if by some chance we stumbled in the future. So I shook off those vulnerable feelings, put my head down and charged into what remained of life like an enraged bull on a mission.
If the page appears blank and you don't see the post that you're looking for, please scroll up.
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