Reaching Out…
I have mentioned somewhere on this blog that I am estranged from much of my family, and that since the move about fifteen months ago, I had not spoken to my Dad. That was my decision, and in no way his fault. We had a running phone relationship since 2000 and the move opened up the opportunity for some time ‘away’ so to speak and I really felt the need for that. Time to take a step back, get my bearings etc. I tend to lack… perspective… perhaps in my relationship with him. I would email or call, and perhaps it would take a week or two before he’d respond. Instead of the normal assumptions about time constraints or his being busy, I would assume he was upset with me, that something I’d said had offended him… or something equally obsessive. I would haunt my email box, and obsess over whether or not I’d hear from him that day. It just really wasn’t a healthy way for me to be… so despite telling him I would, I didn’t call after the move. I just couldn’t call and say I need time, I didn’t want to hurt him, and as time went on it just got harder to make that step to try to explain… I’d try to word something and no words would come and I’d give up. There was much I wanted to share with him though, so I’d write him letters that I never mailed. I prayed for him, and the rest of the family very often, wondered how he was, but God was working in me and this time of quiet was really beneficial and as a result, also good for my husband and children… Also, I knew that re-establishing contact would be hard and while I was beginning to be ready for that, the possibility of hostility from my step-mother, or my sister, really dampened any urge to pick up the phone.
Then about a week ago I began to dream about Dad. That isn’t uncommon, happens sometimes, but this time was different. I’d dream about him, he’d come to mind all during the next day, and then the next night I dreamt about him again, this time with him asking why I hadn’t called, and I promised in the dream to call. Woke up the next day and thought how odd it was to be having this so consistently, thought about him a good bit that day too, and went to bed again the third night. Well. There was no sleeping that night… in fact, during the hours after I went to bed, and sometime before 1 a.m., I realized this was the Lord and He wasn’t going to let me go to sleep until I committed to do what He wanted. Sure enough, sometime around 1:30 a.m. I finally said ok! I’ll call tomorrow! Never saw the time again and slept the rest of the night.
Well good grief. If I’d known that the Lord (and not just some part of my subconcious) was saying now was the time to reach out and get back in touch I’d have done it on day one… after all, I had missed our talks and would be happy to have them resume… but Lord, if you want me to make the call, can you at least make sure Dad answers the phone instead of someone who’ll give me a hard time? So I picked up the phone and sure enough, Dad answered. It was a pretty good call and it was so good to hear his voice again. He forgave me for waiting so long to call and gave me his email so I sent him a note, along with the blog links… the fact that I’ve become Catholic since we last talked meant a lot to catch up on and I thought perhaps an easy way to get things rolling was to share those.
Since then, I’ve not heard from him. There for a bit I began that old spiral of obsessing until finally I began to pray about it. God helped me realize that I had done what He wanted me to do, I had reached out, I had opened up that ‘pathway’ again… and instead of obsessing over what I desperately want - that close relationship with the father I have always loved so dearly- I had to let go once again and accept that whatever comes, I’m in the center of God’s will, attentive to His voice, and let whatever that will is be enough. That ‘check’ of sorts recentered me and the peace and balance has returned… so instead of the obsession and worry, when I’ve thought of Dad these last few days I’ve spent the time and effort in prayer for him instead… What a beautiful place that is to be… God has given me new freedom to rest in Him in this area of my life which so desperately needed His touch… Yet another way God had to clean me up because of problems in my own life before I could interact properly with someone else…
This is a little more ‘personally’ intimate post in some ways than just ’spiritually’ intimate but it is primarily a spiritual issue for me and that is why it is here. So many times these ‘personal’ struggles as God cleans me up aren’t just for me, and it is so much easier to say yes, I’ve been there, read this than to have to retype it, or worse yet, to forget something that might be important later.
I’m learning that just because God deals with areas of myself that are unhealthy doesn’t mean that those ‘illnesses’ heal as though they never existed… He leaves me vulnerable there… keeps me dependant on Him… and in my weakness He is glorified. Help me Lord to embrace that weakness, and not disdain that through which you work in me.
