Father's Day...

A little over 100 years ago in a town nicknamed "The Friendly City," a lady by the name of Mrs. Grace Golden Clayton organized a celebration that several decades later was written into law as a permanent national holiday.  In this country, every third Sunday in June is set aside to recognize our fathers, showing appreciation for all that they have done and all they mean to us.  Though created to be a joyous and sentimental occasion, many of us are filled with sadness and heartbreak instead.  For some, today marks the first Father's Day they will spend without their Father.  Unable to see him or pick up the phone and hear his voice on the other end only intensifies the grief of their tremendous loss.  For others, today is yet another painful reminder of the abandonment they suffered, leaving them wondering what it would have been like to even have a father at all.  There are others of us who have a father we can physically pick up the phone and call, but have nothing to say to the voice that answers on the other end.  For those of us who have been deeply wounded by our dads, the very sound of his voice represents pain. 

I remember standing in a Hallmark store with my mom one year when I was young and still living in a world full of secrets.  I stood staring at Father's Day cards trying to pick one out for my dad, an experience that proved quite difficult for me.  I read dozens of cards filled with beautiful sentiments, proclaiming a father as a hero, mentor and protector.  I searched for a card that simply said, "Happy Father's Day," but all I could find were cards describing a dad as someone who would always be there with love and support, thanking him for shaping the person I had become today.  Ironically, there were no cards thanking fathers for giving into their perverted desires and ripping out the childlike innocence night after night.  I couldn't find even one single card expressing appreciation for the fear that accompanies a drunken rage or the sting felt with vulgar and hateful words.  My dad had definitely helped shape the person I had become, but I couldn't find the right card that said thank you dad for abusing me...thank you dad for the immense guilt and shame...thank you dad for the abandonment...thank you dad for the overwhelming pain.

When God designed families, He entrusted fathers with a very critical responsibility.  There is no doubt about the fact that children need their fathers.   Every little boy should dream of being like his daddy one day, and every little girl should know the delight that comes with being daddy's little princess.  Children should feel safe and secure wrapped in the arms of their father.  Fathers are meant to instill wisdom and courage in their children, helping them develop into confident young adults with integrity and character.  The basic message....the influence of a father is extraordinary.  When I see a wonderful dad in action or hear of stories from others about how loving their fathers are, my heart is filled with joy.  Oh to know that your father loves you unconditionally and would take a bullet for you without hesitation. 

Thankfully, there are so many remarkable fathers out there who deserve every word written in the Hallmark cards I have read over the years.  However, the sad reality is we live in a country that has become known for being a world leader in fatherless families, a statistic many of us can identify with all to well.  I was overwhelmed as I read through all of the various statistics associated with children who grow up without a loving father, it is quite discouraging.  I, too, feel the void of not having a loving earthly father.  I have a dad, but his unwillingness to live beyond his world of sin and evil desires prevents us from having a relationship.  I once got into a conversation with a friend who never knew her parents.  She questioned if it was worse to grow up without ever knowing a parent, or to grow up with a parent who mistreats you.  The answer...they both stink...and both are outside the realm of God's intended plan. 

Whether you have grown up with an abusive father or an absent father, please know you are not doomed to a life of sadness and sorrow, nor are you destined to be part of the hundreds of statistics.  The void from not having a loving earthly father might be extensive and painful, but it can be filled and ultimately healed.  You and I may not have an earthly father who would take a bullet for us, but we have a father in Heaven who has already taken the nails for us.  He is a Father to the fatherless and takes us in when we are forsaken by our earthly fathers.   When we place our trust in Jesus Christ, He adopts us as His own and considers us as prized treasures.  His love for us is absolutely perfect and in His loving arms we are safe and secure.   On this Father's Day, we too can celebrate.  Happy Father's Day to the Almighty God and Creator of all things...my Heavenly Father who I am blessed to call daddy.

Forgiving when it hurts...

On the same day that I found the courage to tell my mother about the perverse evil I endured by my father, she almost immediately began delivering sermons to me about forgiveness.   If I cried or exhibited any outward signs of sadness, she warned me against dwelling and self-pity and urged me to forgive.  She contributed any expression of hurt or anger on my part to a bitter and unforgiving heart, advising me instead to simply forgive and forget.   She repeatedly informed me that as a Christian it was my spiritual duty to forgive.  Call me crazy, but I don't believe that God expected me to close my eyes, snap my fingers, and determine to never again think about or acknowledge the wicked acts my father carried out against me as a child.  I only wish it were that easy. 

 

Forgiveness is a process, not a one time instantaneous act.  Take it from me, you are not doing yourself any favors if you try to forgive before you are ready.  There is not a schedule or timeline you have to follow, nor is God putting an x mark on his calender for every day that goes by that you don't forgive.  As much as I wish it could be avoided, before you truly are capable of forgiving, you have to go through the pain and heartache of processing the sin that was committed against you.  As my wonderful counselor once told me, the measure to which you forgive is directly related to the measure in which you acknowledge the abuse for the evil that it was.  In other words, until you experience and admit to the full weight of the sadness, grief, betrayal, anger, resentment, or anything else you are feeling, only then can you fully forgive.  Don't let anyone condemn you for not forgiving fast enough or try to spiritually manipulate you into rushing into forgiveness as a "duty" rather than a heartfelt decision.    

 

Just the other day I was talking to my mother and we got into a conversation about my father and I's relationship...or rather the lack there of.  My mother to this day blames our not having a relationship on me being angry and unforgiving.  What my mother doesn't understand is that my forgiveness actually has nothing to do with my father.  Of course I wish with all my heart that my father would take responsibility for his actions and say to me he is sorry, but my forgiveness is not based on him being sorry.  Of course there are times when I still grieve the loss of an earthly father, but much to my mother's dismay, forgiveness is not synonymous with reconciliation.  I can forgive my father with or without having a relationship with him. He refuses to acknowledge the truth and I refuse to ignore sin, defeating any chance of reconciliation...but that doesn't mean I'm exempt from having to forgive.

Forgiving my father for the sexual crimes, harsh words, and disgusting acts I was forced to endure at his hands is for me.  Forgiving my mother for not protecting me from known danger as a child and the present condemnation and judgement is for me.  The act of forgiveness is for me, not them.  Unforgiveness does not hurt the ones who are responsible for my pain, it only further damages me.  Forgiveness does not mean that the sexual abuse was any less of a crime or caused me any less pain, and it definitley does not mean that what my father did to me was excusable.  It is through forgiveness that we are able to let go of the heavy weight of the offense we have been carrying along with us for so long.  When we forgive, the abuse loses its power over us.  For my own healing and recovery, I choose to forgive.  In fact, with each new day I have to choose again and again to make a conscious decision to forgive those who have wronged me.  With every memory, every nightmare, every condemning word...I have to make a choice. 

For those of you who feel your abusers do not deserve to be forgiven, you are right, they don't....but neither do I.  I'm so thankful that when God sacrificed His beloved son, I was completely absolved from the judgement I truly deserve.  Christ's blood covers my sins...and it covers my father's sins too.  As heinous as sexual abuse is in the eyes of the Lord, it is not beyond God's ability to forgive.  God's grace and forgiveness is unfathomable, and His love for His children is unmatched.  He will help you to also forgive your abusers.  You may not be ready to forgive at this moment and that is okay.  My prayer is that as you experience God's forgiveness in your own life and understand it's true meaning, you will desire to forgive your abusers just as you have been forgiven.  It will change your life.

I want to end with the words from a sexual abuse survivor named Nicole Bromley.  She is about my age and has a story that is not much unlike my own.  When I read these words she wrote about the ultimate comfort she received from God, and the forgiveness bestowed to her stepfather who molested her, I cannot hold back the tears.  Speaking of a vision God gave her she writes, "I saw the Lord and my stepdad standing next to each other.  The Lord was on the right; my stepdad was on the left.  Vince (stepdad) wouldn't look at the Lord, but the Lord was looking directly at him.  I could sense that He was very angry about what my stepfather had done to me.  Then I saw the Lord turn around.  Now His back was to my stepdad, and He was facing me.  Vince was behind the Lord and couldn't see me, and I felt safe because the Lord was directly between us.  As the Lord and I looked at each other, I saw Him begin to cry.  Soon He was sobbing because of how His precious, innocent child had been abused.  He was hurting because I was hurting.  He fell to His knees.  I ran into His arms, and He held me as we cried together.  And then I saw that behind us my stepdad was also kneeling.  He was repenting, tugging on the hem of the Lord's robe, crying out for mercy and forgiveness for everything he had done.  Then I saw the Lord forgive my stepfather.  And just as quickly as He forgave, He turned back to comfort me." What a beautiful description of a loving and forgiving God.

Judgment for pain...

This past week has provided me the opportunity to look back and celebrate how far I have come on this healing journey, but it also opened up my eyes just a little bit wider to the reality that my biological family is severely broken.  I spent a lot of time with my mother and sister this weekend and by the time I made it back home where I was emotionally safe, I was completely drained.  Spending eight hours zipped up in my self protective suit constantly guarding my heart from any sneaky attacks left me exhausted and quite honestly, a bit sad...sad that I have to protect myself from those who I should be able to consider safe...sad that I have to be on such high alert with them that I dread our time together rather than find it enjoyable...sad that our relationship can go no further than surface level without the risk of additional pain...sad that the heart wrenching truth is my family does not even know me.  Perhaps what breaks my heart most is that my family not only resents me for disclosing the truth and exposing my pain, they also judge me for it.

Recently my dear friend who has become like a mother to me (my "Mamsy" as I call her) and I started working through Beth Moore's Bible study on Esther.  As we were going through one of the daily lessons we came to a paragraph filled with words that struck a tender cord in the depths of my soul.  I was quite certain that Beth had followed me on my day long journey with my mother and sister and perhaps caught a small glimpse of why my heart was hurting during our time together.   I want to quote for you the words that were written on the page that so resonated in my heart.  Beth writes,  "We've each been hurt by someone, but no one on earth has hurt us more than those who seem callous to it.  We're acquainted with trying to deal with the wrongdoing of others while they go on with life, oblivious to our pain....The situation becomes even more complicated when you sense that the very person who helped your life to fall apart wonders why you can't get it together.  There's nothing quite like someone who hurt you judging you for being hurt."

These words describe my family, particularly my parents, almost perfectly.  Days after I confronted my father about the sexual abuse, I overheard him say to my mother, "is she still causing a problem," as if in a mere 72 hours I should have been able to get over the past 26 years of the pain I endured.  I can so easily torment myself by replaying some of the words my mother has spoken to me through this journey, things like, "you need to forgive and forget," "don't dwell on the past," "it could have been worse," "you just need to be an overcomer," or the one statement that brings on a bout of nausea every time, "at least the oral sex wasn't as bad as the intercourse."  I can so vividly remember the day I poured out my heart to my mother and let the pain and suffering spew out of me like an exploding soda can.  After I processed through the shock that my mother was very much aware of my father's sickness, I watched as she locked eyes with the magnitude of my pain and then quietly turned and crawled into bed with the man she allowed to molest her little girl.

In the midst of the darkest part of my journey when the nightmares and flashbacks took control, I couldn't help but think the next day...I wonder if my father slept peacefully last night as I relived the horrific pain of him raping me.  When I was soaking my hair and pillow in a pool of endless tears contemplating ending the constant torture, I wonder if my mother was having dinner with friends laughing and flaunting her material wealth.  The only thing worse than them ignoring my pain was the constant condemnation for even feeling it.  I don't want to sugar coat or minimize the sting that is felt when you are criticized by others for your pain, it leaves a deep and throbbing wound that takes a long time to heal....but it is not beyond repair.  This weekend with my mother and sister was proof that although my biological family is unwilling to join me in the recovery process and the presence of their judgment looms in the air around me like a thick haze,  I do not need their approval to get better. 

My dear friends, don't let anyone make you feel guilty for hurting.  The reason I was hurting is because I was deeply hurt... and the very people who judge me for it are the ones who caused it.  You might not can stop them from judging your pain, but I hope you can come to the place where you recognize their judgment as a sign of their sickness, not yours.  Most people who judge you for hurting do so because they cannot handle the truth and the pain that will come by acknowledging the ramifications of their actions is too great.  Instead, they make you feel guilty for hurting.  It's a viscous cycle and one that you don't deserve.  What you do deserve is someone to love you through your pain...someone to walk alongside you and offer you a healing touch...someone you can trust to share with you in your suffering one memory at a time.  Jesus sees your hurt and acknowledges your pain.  He will NEVER judge you for hurting.  Let Jesus be your family.  Share with Him your hurt and feel the love and healing that comes from His nail scarred hands.