I’ve wanted to tell it since it’s happened, but for fear of being too transparent to too many people, I haven’t.
Granted, I’ve already opened up quite a bit on this blog and tolerated your judgmental sneers and jabs so far– But what makes this post most different than any other is that it provides the explanation of why I went krazy in the first place.
So let’s go back to 2003. It was my senior year at William and Mary, and I planned to graduate in December, a semester early. I had been blessed with a great internship at Anheuser-Busch, and though it wasn’t the line of work for me, I didn’t mind the $14 per hour pay. So during summer 2003, I worked, took a few classes, and did a little partying… something I was neeeever good at.
Did I mention I’d also hit rock bottom? I had gone through a nasty break-up and my parents had finally parted ways. Emotionally I was a wreck and ripe for predatory picking. Classes started and within two weeks I discovered that I was *ahem* with child. I made two great choices at that time… to keep my baby and to leave that hot mess of a sperm donor alone.
(I’m leaving out some details here, so if you know the full story hush your mouth. It’s not time for all of it to come out yet. If you don’t know, then just grin, nod, and carry on.)
In an effort to keep the sharing of dirty laundry to a minimum, let’s just say I later found myself in another precarious position. I was in a court… between mom and dad… defending one… never intending to hurt the other… desiring only to tell the truth and watch them part amicably. It didn’t go so well.
And just like that the already shaky relationship I had with my father came to a screeching halt.
By October I had made peace with my pregnancy, and even though I spent most of my time bent over the toilet, I had new sense of purpose. I felt like I was working hard for a reason. A new relationship was growing despite the loss of another.
Don’t get me wrong… I was upset, but relieved at the same time. I know people think we’re supposed to feel a certain way about things, but you feel how you feel. And I felt relieved.
My father was a terrorist of sorts. You just never knew when he was genuinely agreeable or when he was about to take your head of with a fit of rage. I had suffered tremendous emotional trauma, neglect, rejection, and abandonment at his hands… so I gave myself closure and let him leave. He didn’t know I was pregnant. I didn’t dare tell him that because in that case, I would’ve been afraid for my life. Seriously. My daddy was crazy. The real crazy… not the kind I spell with a k.
Now imagine the scene in the movie with the violin serenade and changing scenes… Marrying. Teaching. Birthing of second child. Earning MBA. Divorcing. Moving into mom’s house. Suffering in mom’s house. Moving out of mom’s house. Moving into my own place. You get it… Life happened.
While life was happening I did my best to hold on to my faith, but truthfully, faith held on to me. And one night, three months ago, I felt strangely impressed to pray for my parents and my siblings, particularly my father. Let me tell you… I WENT INNN!!! (“Going in” is church vernacular for seeking God’s face fervently…) I didn’t know what God was doing, but I prayed as He directed.
Shortly thereafter my brother graduated from Campbell University. My mom and I attended the ceremony and off in the distance I saw my father. I didn’t let my mom know it, but I missed him. Really I just missed having a father. But I said a quiet prayer. He saw me as he was leaving and greeted me. First time in 8 years.
When mom and I made it back to the car she handed me an envelope. Inside was my brother’s graduation invitation. Pointless, right? Well I opened it anyway…
Go grab a tissue right now… No? Suit yourself. I’m not liable if the forthcoming tears short-circuit your electronic device.
…and inside was a letter from my father telling me that he missed me. He left me his phone number and email. I slid my glasses over my eyes, pretended to nap, and cried as discreetly as I could.
It took me some time to contact him, but on Christmas Eve of 2011, I sat down and talked to my father for the first time in 8 years. And for the first time, he met my children. And for the first time, they exchanged hugs, kisses, and Christmas presents. And for the first time since my divorce, I felt secure.
He told me he was proud of me. That I was still the smartest person he knew. That I made the right choice in my former marriage. That my kids were strong, healthy and smart because of what I’d put into them. That he knew I was doing great things in my school and in the world for education. He’d been asking about me and following my accomplishments all along.
He was proud of me. He was sorry that he left me and offered reasons why… But when it comes down to it, those reasons never really matter. I assured him that I was glad to have him back.
We don’t talk often, but things are fine. I know how to reach him, and I know he loves me. Only months before I thought he was still angry and had forgotten all about me. I thought my children would never see their six-foot three-inch giant of a grandfather. And since we met again he’s sent me gifts for both my birthday and Valentine’s Day…
*pardon me while I wipe my face*
I know some churchy person is out there thinking, “Well you believe in God, and you know He’s a father to the fatherless.” And this is true… He was and still is Father to me. But in His fatherly wisdom, He knew I needed my daddy back.
So the deeper, more relevant truth remains. God loves us soooo much that He causes us to desire the right things in the right time so He can reconcile and provide in order to propel us into the next level.
God loves us SOOO much that He CAUSES us to desire the RIGHT things in the RIGHT time so He can RECONCILE and PROVIDE in order to PROPEL us into the next level.
Don’t believe me? Ok… Psalm 37:4. Read and digest for yourself. I’ll blog on that another day.
So what secret desires has God placed in you? Maybe you need someone to come back into your life. Maybe you need to be freed from others. Whatever it is, I pray the hearing of my story has increased your willingness to believe that God is ABLE and WILLING to do what you never thought was possible!
Your less krazy, much happier cybersister,