Father's Day

     It's the only picture I have of him. Dusty, shoved to the back of the shelf, I look at it from time to time, trying to see a trace of myself. Is it the shape of the eyes, the bright smile, or the too broad forehead? I gaze intently and try to grab hold of something that says "This is where I came from," this is how I "look like my Dad."
     But trying to look for similarities in his face feels as flat as the one dimensional image before me. The picture of this man has not been cherished. No one has rubbed off the gold gilt from the frame because of excessive handling.  No greasy fingerprints have been left on the photo from an adoring princess, because this man stepped out of my life, to move on to a different one.
     Picture after picture rolled by me of loving fathers on my Facebook feed last week, and I traced my friends features in the men that they call "Dad," rejoicing with them over a dad that loved them, a dad that decided to stay.
     The hardest memory of my dad was years later, when I met him for an attempt at some sort of reconciliation. He told the story of 3 year-old-me waiting patiently outside for him to come home. "That's MY daddy!" I used to tell the kids, when he came around the corner. Why did he mention that? A moment of regret? It just made me feel worse.
     Fortunately, In these last few years, I have come to a deeper understanding of being God's beloved child, and the memory of my biological dad fades more and more into the background. As I walk deeper into the love God has for me, the disappointments and failures of the past have just made more places in me that God can fill with himself. He is a perfect father, and I will always be his completely loved, and cherished child.

   
   

     I was watching a Gregory Peck movie about Horatio Hornblower. A fictional character created by the author C.S. Forester, this Royal Navy officer gets in a number of tough situations as he wages war against the French during the time of Napoleon.
     In the heat of battle, huge sailing ships blast cannons at each other at close range. The cannonballs rip into ship riggings, main masts, and wooden decks, shattering them to pieces. In one scene, Horatio gets knocked down and covered by wreckage. As the crew pulls it off of him, he gets back up and continues to give orders, straightening his uniform and adjusting his odd, black, two cornered hat.
     These days I feel a little like Horatio. Even though I signed up for this fight, things can get pretty overwhelming, and often I find myself underneath a pile of wreckage. The enemy attacks from my blind side and before I know it, those things I counted on are falling down all around me.
      Deuteronomy 31:8 says "the Lord is indeed going before you-he will be with you; he will not fail you or abandon you. Do not be afraid or discouraged!" It's so good to know I am not alone in this fight, and I can get back up because God is beside me and will not leave me to wage these battles alone. Knowing that makes all the difference!!

     When I'm in the midst of a crisis, I put my game face on and just try and get through it. If it continues, I start to ask God why, and if the answers don't come on my schedule, I get depressed and withdraw. It's a familiar pattern.
     The last time I went through this, God stopped me and said "Try and imagine being on the other side of this trial. Think about what it will be like when it's over." Now this seems counter intuitive, but I did it anyway. I saw myself in an open place, free from the things I had been carrying. I felt God's favor and love again, the joy that comes from not giving up and the hope of new possibilities all around me.
     If you're struggling today, take a quiet moment and try and imagine what it will be like when God brings you through it, to the other side of the crisis. See the path before opening up before you as you experience peace and health and a place to rest.

Getting out of Isolation:Remembrance

     One of the things I struggle with is isolation, so I need a strategy to fight against it. Posting a scripture meme is helpful, but remembering someone influential in your life, who modeled that scripture to you, is better!
     Svea, my mother's cousin, immigrated from Sweden to Spokane, Washington around the 1950's. I didn't know a lot of my relatives, but this lady took me in and loved me, always making me feel like a special guest in her home. Her tiny kitchen had painted cabinets that held old China, tin canisters and golden high ball glasses. On the red and white Formica table sat an old, dial radio we listened to every morning. Above it, a hanging planter held a trailing succulent that looked about 100 years old. It's small, fat leaves cascaded down from the ceiling, a flowing green river of plant.
     Every time I came to that Spokane kitchen, the trailing succulent greeted me. It didn't change, was never moved, and continued to grow year after year, happy and content. It came to represent what Svea's influence has meant to my life. Lovely and constant, never changing in her affection, growing and full of life.
     Now, I have a trailing succulent hanging from my ceiling. Every time I see it, I'm reminded of the amazing influence she had in my life, and it helps me through some of the rough patches in my own. Thanks, God.
   

Self Inflicted Solitary Confinement

So often I am the one that prevents myself from going forward. My wrong perceptions build the bars that surround me and disappointment and bitterness fasten the lock and there I sit, captive, a prisoner of self inflicted solitary confinement. As I struggle and beat myself against the bars, God's gentle voice whispers to reach into my pocket. I feel the key and realize my way of escape had always been available. Once more He waits as I turn the lock and come out and we begin again.