Thinking About My Father

Today was my first Sunday in a very long time without my husband. This was a big deal because 3 Sundays out of the month I lead music worship on stage and can't both, keep an eye on my 2 wonderful boys and lead a band and sing. Furthermore, this particular Sunday, was our church anniversary and baptisms so there was much more ado and to do for this service. 7 singers (when there's usually 2), a full band (that's normal ), 8 songs (when we usually do 4). Whoa Nelly! Thank God for my mom! She lives with us ( I call her my forever mom) and allowed me to leave my boys at home. They got to sleep in. She fed, dressed, loved on them and brought them to church a little later! Thanks mom. Love ya! Definitely took a load off. 

So service was great! Six people were baptized. God was glorified throughout the service and we, as a church, have made it 3 years. Woo hoo! That's worth celebrating. It was time to get home, so after tear down (we meet in a school building that needs to be set up and torn down every Sunday) I found and lost my children for 15 minutes. I found one then lost sight of the other, then the little one popped up and the big one disappeared! Jeez! So, I got home and I was exhausted! Beat. 

Now at the time, I was fasting from TV programs for the past week, and that Sunday was the day I got to break fast, so I turned on the TV and scroll through the guide; looking for something not too morbid, not too weird, not too outrageous, to watch. I stumbled on one of Oprah s OWN programs ( I don't particularly care for her ideologies but usually that's how stumbling goes) titled "Daddyless Daughters". It peaked my interest enough to peek in and see what Oprah and her disciples were talking about. It wasn't anything earth-shattering but more so, the discussion caused me to think about my own father, or the lack of him in my life.

 A thought crept into my mind. A tiny thought I never dared to think prior to that moment. 

This thought started with my dad's comments on a Facebook post my husband husband made. "Bella mi hija, y bless you mi nieto!" That comment did something to me. It drew something visceral out of me; something that made me angry. It was a benign comment- "mi nieto".... it means "my grandson". It felt like he was coveting my son, having invested absolutely no grandfather work. The only place he's seen either of my sons is on Facebook photos. That's my boundary. I've forgiven him for the varying abuses he's afforded my family but I cannot allow him even the opportunity to perpetuate that pain upon my nuclear family. So I purposely keep him and my interactions, be they phone or Facebook distanced. 

So now that you have a sliver of a back story regarding my father.......back to that eensy wincy creeping thought I never dared to think.......
Why?
Why wasn't he there?
Why didn't he confess he molested my sister when I confronted him?
Why did he start a new life in a new city with a new wife and new son when he hadn't cleaned up the mess he made of his old life with his old wife and old children?
Why didn't he come to my high school graduation?
Why didn't he come to my numerous concerts and recitals?
Why didn't he come to my college graduation?
Why why why?!?

You see, I try very hard not to ask "why" but more often  ask "what's the lesson"? So this question startled me. Then I started trying to think too deep, "why was I asking why?" Too much! Too much! But God knows me and that's what I love about Him. So as I went into a thought tailspin; digging myself in a cavernous mind hole, I heard the Lord plainly and clearly say "Your father's absence saved you from much worse." That answer was more than sufficient. It quenched all the thirst of my inquisitiveness and filled my mind hole in a way that while inexplicable, I know I could never have satisfied myself. The Enemy tried to use my father's absence (he left when I was 5) as a disability. But God had another plan for that part of my life story. 

There are many times God makes us wait, but in this instance, I think God was just waiting for me to ask.  Isn't that funny? I was trying to be all existential with my "learn the lesson" philosophy but all I had to do was ask. “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you." -Matt. 7:7

I missed my husband that particular Sunday. not because of all he does, but because I love seeing him be a daddy. The little girl in me; angry at my father's absence, delights and revels when she sees her little boys and husband playing.  Each wrestling match and bedroom dunk contest, and tickle session, and paper airplane I see fly across my living room, is a soothing balm for the wounds of my childhood and I'm grateful for it. 

                 Fiery Wife