Daily Archives: February 27, 2010

I saw a recent photo of my dad this weekend. His arms wrapped around two of my brothers while the sun drenched them and their wives with happiness.

My dad and I never had a healthy relationship. Never. Even when I tried, when he tried, when all apparent barriers were removed, it just didn’t work. Granted we did not always supply fervent persistence, but for twenty years we tried. For twenty years we failed.

Finally, I gave up. That sounds fatalistic, and perhaps it is, but I just couldn’t do it any more. The effort of trying and never being heard exhausted me. The emotional roller coaster of striving for approval and then almost instantly losing it again. I had been hurt too deeply too often. And I’m sure I hurt him too. I do not claim to be blameless. The cycle never improved, and my ability to survive it diminished.

Should toxic relationships continue? Should they be forced to endure simply because of obligation? Or blood relation? When nothing changes and it never gets better, should one persist?

Most days I feel justified in my choice to pursue him no longer. But then some days, like today, I wonder. I wonder if we ever really knew each other. I wonder if we had spent more time together, if we had tried a little harder, could we have made it work? Maybe I didn’t fully forgive. Maybe my expectations were unfair. Maybe we both judged too quickly. Maybe he has changed in the last ten years. Maybe …

Maybe I’m that seven-year-old girl all over again. Feeling lost and abandoned. Longing for just a hint of unconditional care. Wishing my life were even a little like all the beautiful stories I’ve read in books.

But I’m not that little girl. Once innocent and hopeful, this face now sports wrinkles and sun-spots, both more prevalent with each passing year. Once frivolous and carefree, I now have responsibilities that extend beyond myself. I have a family. I have children to protect. And while part of me wonders what could be, most of me refuses to subject these precious charges to the childhood I endured. Most of me knows I’m not strong enough to withstand the emotional paralysis trying again would likely cause.

A whisper gently encourages me:

“Sing to God, sing praises to His name;
Lift up a song for Him who rides through the deserts,
Whose name is the LORD, and exult before Him.

A father of the fatherless and a judge for the widows,
Is God in His holy habitation.

God makes a home for the lonely;
He leads out the prisoners into prosperity,
Only the rebellious dwell in a parched land.” (Psalm 68:4–6, NASB)

God is a Father. He is my Father.

He is a Judge and a Defender of those who cannot defend themselves, those who have been wronged and desperately need a warrior on their side. He defends me.

He comforts the lonely. Even me.

He frees prisoners and causes them to rejoice. Even those imprisoned by their past. He frees me from regret and guilt.

If only it were easier to take hold of all He offers.