It was indeed a shock for him as he listened to his child say those words, "You're not my father, you don't even exist for me." Hadn't he been there when she was conceived, when she took her first breath and let it out in the first of many frightened cries wanting only for the comfort and safety of the womb? Wasn't it he who had comforted her so many years ago when her grandmother had passed on, alone and confused in her room, so numbed by the pain and confusion, suddenly so alone in the world that she felt as if nothing made sense? Wasn't it he who had given her the strength to stand up in front of that 8th grade assembly, awkward in her braces and budding womanhood, to deliver that speech which would help define her future and set her on the path she now followed? Yes, it was him. So how did he end up here? He wasn't surprised at all. Hurt, yes, but not surprised.
She was an intelligent young woman, mature for her age, so stubborn and sure of everything that it was difficult to change her mind sometimes. He loved her so and tried, as all good fathers did, to teach her those lessons that are sometimes best learned through personal experience. She listened at first, the advice sounded solid and right. But later that advice just didn't jive with what the rest of her friends were doing, with what she saw on tv, with the rest of the world. So she decided that her father was just old fashioned and really didn't understand what it was like to be a child in the world today. Eventually she came to despise him for his advice. He was just trying to control her with his outdated rules and she was too smart to believe he was right.
"Cherish and respect yourself because you are precious. Save yourself for your one true love, the one you'll marry." Great in theory, but so hard to do when you are so sure that this is the one. She didn't wait. It didn't last. She knew that she had given something away that she could never get back. There was now just a hole where that thing had been and she needed to fill it with something else. She always felt less than adequate inside, so she worked that much harder to fit in with her peers, always looking for that thing she so dearly missed. Surely the next one was "the one", each time giving a bit more of herself away but never finding the one to make her whole.
"Don't drink to excess or do drugs. They ruin your body and brain." Again, it sounded like sound advice but was so hard to do with her new friends. "Work hard, play hard", that was their motto and if it was good for them, it couldn't be bad for her. She soon found that she needed the drugs and alcohol to fill the ever widening hole inside of her and those words of advice soon began to chafe her, rubbing her emotions raw. She was having fun and she didn't need him trying to tell her what she could and couldn't do.
"Love your neighbors as yourself" that was a simple one, yet so hard to follow in the world she lived in. She had worked hard to get to the position she held in life, sometimes having to do things she knew weren't right, sometimes harming those around her to get what she wanted, but she had come to accept that this was the world she lived in and to get ahead you have to live by the world's rules. She had learned early on that you could use those around you to get ahead. Sometimes you had to step on people to get to the top and she had gotten to the top. She was successful, but she wasn't happy. He tried to speak to her, but she didn't want to hear anything he had to say. Just being in his presence made her feel the weight of her decisions, made the stains of her life stand out in stark relief to the beautiful and precious child he knew her to be. She began to hate him for that.
One day, she made a decision. It would be so much easier to live life as she had decided to, so free of guilt and shame, if her father didn't exist. She wouldn't feel controlled by his rules and could be free to do as she pleased. She would have no regrets. So she told him so. "You aren't my father. I am not your child. You don't even exist to me." And she went on living life as she wanted, but her denial of his existence didn't make him any less real.
You may think that this father would have been angry, even furious to hear such words from his child. He was heartbroken to be sure, but he wasn't angry. He didn't rant and rave, looking to punish his child for her impertinence. He knew that she had to have the free will to do as she would. She had to have the ability to make her own decisions, bearing the repercussions for her actions however harsh they may be. He couldn't stand to be close to her, her lifestyle prohibited it, so he was forced to leave her be. But he never stopped loving her and was always there waiting for her to return to him, because his love for her was unconditional and boundless.
There will come a day when she will see Him for who He is. She will know that He is here and that He is real. Her life will be an empty shell, filled with empty things that hold no value and her need to fill the hole in her heart with something meaningful will drive her to her knees. She will come to realize that those "rules" weren't meant to deprive her of some joy in her life, but were there to protect her. They were for her own good. He had always meant only good for her life but she had been led astray by the world she lived in. It was a fallen world, chasing after selfish desires and teaching her that she was too smart to follow her Father's rules, that it was weakness to rely on His strength. She will cry out for Him.
When that day comes, He will be waiting. He will take her in his arms and show her the unconditional love He has for her. She will find that love to be the exact size of the hole in her heart and, when she has accepted Him into her heart, she will be made whole again.
She will say, "You are my Father", and He will say, "You have always been my child."
Until next time...
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Thinking happy thoughts...
The other day I was telling my 19 year old daughter, who is a self professed atheist, that my newborn was having some jaundice issues which were wearing us a bit thin and she said to me, "I'll think happy thoughts for him". I asked if that was her version of prayer and she said it was. That response made me wonder. Why is it that some people who deny the existence of God still feel the need to seek some greater power?
Call it karma, chi or whatever other name you can come up with for the power that is somehow greater than us yet somehow attached to us, making an impact for good or bad in our lives, we still reach out for that contact. I find it interesting when I hear someone who feels that they must deny the existence of God reach out to a higher power for help. I hear well intentioned people who feel that they just can't accept the existance of God tell me that they are "good people". I ask, "good by what measure"? If there is some way to measure the good of man, where does this measuring stick come from? Is this moral compass what so many people refer to as their "conscience"? It's hard to deny that all of us have a moral compass, or a conscience, right? Why, even a child knows if they are doing good or bad. Why be concerned for our fellow man at all if there's no such thing as a conscience?
I believe that we all have this moral compass because we're all created from the same source. Yes, there are those who can push that compass aside in order to justify their actions, but deep down they know the difference between right and wrong. Those who don't, the criminally ill is the term we use for them, are considered to be insane or broken in some way. We keep them locked away because they don't have the capability to be guided by that moral compass any longer. If we can use the ability to use that moral compass as a measuring stick for a person's sanity then we must place it in pretty high regard. So why is it that we can't acknowledge where that moral compass comes from?
I think that most people who don't want to acknowledge where their moral compass comes from are merely trying not to acknowledge a higher power. Perhaps, by acknowledging a higher power they are somehow faced with the dilemma of giving that higher power control over themselves and they can't imagine giving up the reins of their own lives. For some, this is the scariest part of acknowledging God's existence. To me, the mere fact that I have this moral compass is enough for me to know that I must acknowledge my maker. My conscience compels me to do so.
I remember well when I was 19 years old. I decided that God didn't exist as well. I look back on those years now and can see that I really didn't believe that. I just didn't want to acknowledge Him, because to do that would mean that I would have to acknowledge that my lifestyle and choices were wrong. I didn't want to be told what was right and wrong. The only problem with that theory was that my own moral compass was telling me something different. Try as I might to push it aside and ignore it, I found that I couldn't deny the truth any longer. Faced with that truth, I had to decide to follow Him or to rebel against Him. I found that rebellion led to so many heartaches and so much pain that I couldn't bear it any longer.
I'm hoping that my 19 year old can get to that point much quicker than I did, but I have a feeling that she won't. She's so much like me; stubborn to a fault, too smart for her own good and as headstrong as a mule. Still, despite all that, I made it and I always hold out hope that she will too. In the meantime, I'll take those happy thoughts.
Until next time...
Call it karma, chi or whatever other name you can come up with for the power that is somehow greater than us yet somehow attached to us, making an impact for good or bad in our lives, we still reach out for that contact. I find it interesting when I hear someone who feels that they must deny the existence of God reach out to a higher power for help. I hear well intentioned people who feel that they just can't accept the existance of God tell me that they are "good people". I ask, "good by what measure"? If there is some way to measure the good of man, where does this measuring stick come from? Is this moral compass what so many people refer to as their "conscience"? It's hard to deny that all of us have a moral compass, or a conscience, right? Why, even a child knows if they are doing good or bad. Why be concerned for our fellow man at all if there's no such thing as a conscience?
I believe that we all have this moral compass because we're all created from the same source. Yes, there are those who can push that compass aside in order to justify their actions, but deep down they know the difference between right and wrong. Those who don't, the criminally ill is the term we use for them, are considered to be insane or broken in some way. We keep them locked away because they don't have the capability to be guided by that moral compass any longer. If we can use the ability to use that moral compass as a measuring stick for a person's sanity then we must place it in pretty high regard. So why is it that we can't acknowledge where that moral compass comes from?
I think that most people who don't want to acknowledge where their moral compass comes from are merely trying not to acknowledge a higher power. Perhaps, by acknowledging a higher power they are somehow faced with the dilemma of giving that higher power control over themselves and they can't imagine giving up the reins of their own lives. For some, this is the scariest part of acknowledging God's existence. To me, the mere fact that I have this moral compass is enough for me to know that I must acknowledge my maker. My conscience compels me to do so.
I remember well when I was 19 years old. I decided that God didn't exist as well. I look back on those years now and can see that I really didn't believe that. I just didn't want to acknowledge Him, because to do that would mean that I would have to acknowledge that my lifestyle and choices were wrong. I didn't want to be told what was right and wrong. The only problem with that theory was that my own moral compass was telling me something different. Try as I might to push it aside and ignore it, I found that I couldn't deny the truth any longer. Faced with that truth, I had to decide to follow Him or to rebel against Him. I found that rebellion led to so many heartaches and so much pain that I couldn't bear it any longer.
I'm hoping that my 19 year old can get to that point much quicker than I did, but I have a feeling that she won't. She's so much like me; stubborn to a fault, too smart for her own good and as headstrong as a mule. Still, despite all that, I made it and I always hold out hope that she will too. In the meantime, I'll take those happy thoughts.
Until next time...
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Scary moments...lessons learned!
There are some incredible moments in our lives that teach us some great lessons. We all have them, I believe, and I had one last night. It was the during the birth of my son, Ethan. I guess you'd have to know the history behind my son, a history that started years before he was even conceived.
You see, I was told by God that I would have a child some 7 years ago. Yes, you read that right. God told me I would have a child. I find it so funny when I tell people that I've heard from God at various points in my life. If you don't think that's possible, you may not like reading my blog posts. I'm hoping that doesn't turn you off. But I digress...this encounter with God happened one morning when I was jogging in a local park and had stopped to take a break, sitting on a bench. There was a tree growing nearby. This wasn't a fully grown tree, but it was grown enough to be called mature.
The odd thing about this tree was that it had a branch growing near the base of the tree. Normally these branches are trimmed before they grow too large and that prompted the thought for me that this branch should be trimmed because this tree was just too mature to have a branch at that level. It was at that moment that God spoke to me. No, there was no parting of the clouds and a tremendous voice rumbling from the heavens. His was a small voice in my mind.
"You are like that tree", He said to me.
"How am I like that tree", I replied.
"You are mature, past the age of new branches, but I will bring a branch from you at this mature age." was his reply.
So many emotions ran through my head at that moment and for the days, weeks, months and years to come. This conversation took place 7 years ago, not too awfully long after my wife and I had gotten married. We had the conversation about kids and my wife didn't want any. I have three from previous marriages, so it was really not a problem for me if we didn't have any. Imagine how I felt going home to my wife to tell her that God had told me that He was going to give us a child. Really, it was a funny conversation. My wife doesn't share my views about God and I don't think she believes God takes an active role in our lives. Maybe she believes a bit more now, but that story is still unfinished.
I have to admit that I was beginning to wonder if this promise was actually going to come to pass. My wife and I had been married almost 7 years, we weren't trying not to have children yet we had none and I was beginning to question God about this promise. What happened? Did I subconsciously want to have a child and create a conversation to somehow justify this decision to have a child to myself, thus putting words into God's own mouth? I really began to question everything, to myself and to God. That's when He confirmed to me that we would be having a child and that my wife was,in fact, pregnant.
I told my wife the next day that she needed to get a pregnancy test and she thought I was crazy. I had to insist before she got not just one but two tests. You could hear the incredulity in her voice when she came downstairs to tell me that it was positive. We were going to be having a baby! That was 9 months ago and here we are today. God made a promise and, when it seemed impossible, He kept that promise.
There were many times over the last 9 months that I had little scares. Was he growing ok, was everything going to turn out alright, would he be healthy? God promised me a child but He never promised that child would be healthy, that there'd be no complications or that we'd have no trials along the way. In fact, my wife ended up with gestational diabetes and had to be closely monitored along the way, prompting the decision to induce labor yesterday. Circumstances turned out that Susana's water broke in the wee hours of the morning yesterday and he was born last night.
The delivery wasn't without complications however and we had an incredibly scary moment at the end of he delivery that left me feeling things that I hope to never feel again. You see, Susana had a very difficult time pushing Ethan out. I don't know if it was due to the epidural or a lack of strength from pushing for over 3 hours and no food for over 24, but she just couldn't get him all the way out. He was stuck in the birth canal under her pubic bone for over an hour. She pushed and pushed to no avail and as time wore on, he was getting more and more stressed. His heartbeat was dropping dangerously low at each contraction and she had to take oxygen with each attempt to push him out.
The doctor finally had to put a suction cup on his head to pull him out, getting him out enough so we could see his head. Susana began pushing again and almost had his head all the way out, only to have him slide back in. The monitors were going crazy, his heartbeat disappeared and I began to get worried. I've seen 4 children come into this world and never once considered that one might not make it.
The real concern came when the midwife started calling for someone to get the doctor ASAP, a look of total despair on her face. The nurse was holding the monitor against Susana's belly, desperately looking for a heartbeat and Susana was pushing as hard as she could, face red as a beat, oxygen mask askew on her face. Ethan's head came out on the next push. The midwife turned his head and I could see his face. It was bluish gray and, by all accounts, lifeless. Just reliving that moment in my mind now fills me with the most awful feelings.
I remember thinking in my head, "How could this be? How could my promised child die like this? Surely they'll be able to revive him!" I pleaded with my wife to push harder. He had to come out now!!! The midwife hastily made the decision to cut my wife to get him out and it seemed like it took forever to get the needle, deaden the spot and make the required cuts. My mind was racing and I must have had an awful look on my face that I couldn't hide from my wife. She saw it and began to cry, "NO, NO, NO!!!", bearing down and pushing even as the midwife was cutting her. I cried out to God, "Please!"
Finally, the midwife pulled Ethan's body free and literally tossed him onto Susana's belly like today's catch at the fish market. He was a blue gray, bloody mess and he wasn't moving. I didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see my dead son, but was helpless to look away. Then, he started moving, started making small noises and the nurse snatched him up and took him to the other side of the room to work on him. I was left, spent emotionally and physically, almost ready to collapse if not for my wife's hand. The next few minutes is a blur to me.
Ethan turned out to be just fine. He was a bit blue, not none the worse for wear. Susana required some stitches and we'll both have some amazing memories from the whole ordeal, but we'll be fine. I'll forever have a lesson learned...
If God makes a promise, He keeps it! Ethan, you are that promise, son. I hope you have a chance to read this one day and you will know it to be true as well.
You see, I was told by God that I would have a child some 7 years ago. Yes, you read that right. God told me I would have a child. I find it so funny when I tell people that I've heard from God at various points in my life. If you don't think that's possible, you may not like reading my blog posts. I'm hoping that doesn't turn you off. But I digress...this encounter with God happened one morning when I was jogging in a local park and had stopped to take a break, sitting on a bench. There was a tree growing nearby. This wasn't a fully grown tree, but it was grown enough to be called mature.
The odd thing about this tree was that it had a branch growing near the base of the tree. Normally these branches are trimmed before they grow too large and that prompted the thought for me that this branch should be trimmed because this tree was just too mature to have a branch at that level. It was at that moment that God spoke to me. No, there was no parting of the clouds and a tremendous voice rumbling from the heavens. His was a small voice in my mind.
"You are like that tree", He said to me.
"How am I like that tree", I replied.
"You are mature, past the age of new branches, but I will bring a branch from you at this mature age." was his reply.
So many emotions ran through my head at that moment and for the days, weeks, months and years to come. This conversation took place 7 years ago, not too awfully long after my wife and I had gotten married. We had the conversation about kids and my wife didn't want any. I have three from previous marriages, so it was really not a problem for me if we didn't have any. Imagine how I felt going home to my wife to tell her that God had told me that He was going to give us a child. Really, it was a funny conversation. My wife doesn't share my views about God and I don't think she believes God takes an active role in our lives. Maybe she believes a bit more now, but that story is still unfinished.
I have to admit that I was beginning to wonder if this promise was actually going to come to pass. My wife and I had been married almost 7 years, we weren't trying not to have children yet we had none and I was beginning to question God about this promise. What happened? Did I subconsciously want to have a child and create a conversation to somehow justify this decision to have a child to myself, thus putting words into God's own mouth? I really began to question everything, to myself and to God. That's when He confirmed to me that we would be having a child and that my wife was,in fact, pregnant.
I told my wife the next day that she needed to get a pregnancy test and she thought I was crazy. I had to insist before she got not just one but two tests. You could hear the incredulity in her voice when she came downstairs to tell me that it was positive. We were going to be having a baby! That was 9 months ago and here we are today. God made a promise and, when it seemed impossible, He kept that promise.
There were many times over the last 9 months that I had little scares. Was he growing ok, was everything going to turn out alright, would he be healthy? God promised me a child but He never promised that child would be healthy, that there'd be no complications or that we'd have no trials along the way. In fact, my wife ended up with gestational diabetes and had to be closely monitored along the way, prompting the decision to induce labor yesterday. Circumstances turned out that Susana's water broke in the wee hours of the morning yesterday and he was born last night.
The delivery wasn't without complications however and we had an incredibly scary moment at the end of he delivery that left me feeling things that I hope to never feel again. You see, Susana had a very difficult time pushing Ethan out. I don't know if it was due to the epidural or a lack of strength from pushing for over 3 hours and no food for over 24, but she just couldn't get him all the way out. He was stuck in the birth canal under her pubic bone for over an hour. She pushed and pushed to no avail and as time wore on, he was getting more and more stressed. His heartbeat was dropping dangerously low at each contraction and she had to take oxygen with each attempt to push him out.
The doctor finally had to put a suction cup on his head to pull him out, getting him out enough so we could see his head. Susana began pushing again and almost had his head all the way out, only to have him slide back in. The monitors were going crazy, his heartbeat disappeared and I began to get worried. I've seen 4 children come into this world and never once considered that one might not make it.
The real concern came when the midwife started calling for someone to get the doctor ASAP, a look of total despair on her face. The nurse was holding the monitor against Susana's belly, desperately looking for a heartbeat and Susana was pushing as hard as she could, face red as a beat, oxygen mask askew on her face. Ethan's head came out on the next push. The midwife turned his head and I could see his face. It was bluish gray and, by all accounts, lifeless. Just reliving that moment in my mind now fills me with the most awful feelings.
I remember thinking in my head, "How could this be? How could my promised child die like this? Surely they'll be able to revive him!" I pleaded with my wife to push harder. He had to come out now!!! The midwife hastily made the decision to cut my wife to get him out and it seemed like it took forever to get the needle, deaden the spot and make the required cuts. My mind was racing and I must have had an awful look on my face that I couldn't hide from my wife. She saw it and began to cry, "NO, NO, NO!!!", bearing down and pushing even as the midwife was cutting her. I cried out to God, "Please!"
Finally, the midwife pulled Ethan's body free and literally tossed him onto Susana's belly like today's catch at the fish market. He was a blue gray, bloody mess and he wasn't moving. I didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see my dead son, but was helpless to look away. Then, he started moving, started making small noises and the nurse snatched him up and took him to the other side of the room to work on him. I was left, spent emotionally and physically, almost ready to collapse if not for my wife's hand. The next few minutes is a blur to me.
Ethan turned out to be just fine. He was a bit blue, not none the worse for wear. Susana required some stitches and we'll both have some amazing memories from the whole ordeal, but we'll be fine. I'll forever have a lesson learned...
If God makes a promise, He keeps it! Ethan, you are that promise, son. I hope you have a chance to read this one day and you will know it to be true as well.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
A new day, a new life...a new blog!
Here I am, sitting with my wife and waiting for my son to be born. Before you think me callous and uncaring, know that she's in the beginning stages of labor and isn't lacking for attention! As soon as something more serious than some napping and occasional contractions occur, I assure you I will be there for whatever. Until then, why not write about it?
I've always wanted to be a writer and even had a real estate blog for a while a few years back. I found that I enjoyed it very much and even had some great feedback on the blogs I wrote. Now, it's a new year and a new beginning for my wife and me, so I've decided to begin another chapter of my life...writing.
I guess we all feel that there's some deep truths hidden away in the lives we've led. Some great and profound lessons we've learned along the way, indelibly engraved on our minds, that we might be able to share with others. Maybe it's just our need to make some sort of good use of the trials of life. Our mistakes are somehow justified by the lessons we've learned and the growth we've made. Do we ever stop growing? I imagine we take breaks or that we grow in spurts. I've heard it said that growth only comes through pain and trials. If that's the case, I guess I should be grateful when the trials come.
Today, there are no trials. Today isn't a day for looking back. This is a day for looking forward. I'll have a son born to me today! I don't know if I can describe the feelings that thought brings to mind for me. I feel great joy at the thought of a little me running around. I also have a feeling of trepidation over whether I'll get it right this time. I so want to be a great dad. I look back at my other children's lives and can so plainly see that I missed the mark with them.
It would be very easy to blame missing the mark on my two failed marriages. It couldn't possibly be all my fault, right? I have to own my mistakes though and wish that I had done so many things differently. It'd be foolish for me to say that I wish I'd never gotten two divorces. Life is what it is and I can't go back there. I wish I'd handled those divorces better though. My children really got the worst of them. They will deal with the feelings of abandonment for years to come, I'm afraid, while I deal with feeling like my children were snatched from me by my exes. I've never been able to get them to see that I didn't abandon them. I was pushed out of the picture, an inconvenient reminder of a failed relationship to my ex wives and a part-time dad to children who didn't understand why I couldn't be there for them as much as they wanted.
I think that's the thing I look forward to most with the birth of my son, Ethan. I get to be a full time dad, whether he wants it or not. I think I'll be a great dad! I have so much to share with him, so much to show him and teach him. I can't wait to walk through life, holding his hand and listening to the leaves crunch beneath our feet as we walk in the woods. I look forward to seeing his face when he sees the snow for the first time or when he dips his toes in the ocean for the first time. I think that's the greatest thing about babies...everything's new!
Well, that's enough meandering for now. Susana's contractions are coming faster and stronger now and my work is beginning in earnest. Until next time...
I've always wanted to be a writer and even had a real estate blog for a while a few years back. I found that I enjoyed it very much and even had some great feedback on the blogs I wrote. Now, it's a new year and a new beginning for my wife and me, so I've decided to begin another chapter of my life...writing.
I guess we all feel that there's some deep truths hidden away in the lives we've led. Some great and profound lessons we've learned along the way, indelibly engraved on our minds, that we might be able to share with others. Maybe it's just our need to make some sort of good use of the trials of life. Our mistakes are somehow justified by the lessons we've learned and the growth we've made. Do we ever stop growing? I imagine we take breaks or that we grow in spurts. I've heard it said that growth only comes through pain and trials. If that's the case, I guess I should be grateful when the trials come.
Today, there are no trials. Today isn't a day for looking back. This is a day for looking forward. I'll have a son born to me today! I don't know if I can describe the feelings that thought brings to mind for me. I feel great joy at the thought of a little me running around. I also have a feeling of trepidation over whether I'll get it right this time. I so want to be a great dad. I look back at my other children's lives and can so plainly see that I missed the mark with them.
It would be very easy to blame missing the mark on my two failed marriages. It couldn't possibly be all my fault, right? I have to own my mistakes though and wish that I had done so many things differently. It'd be foolish for me to say that I wish I'd never gotten two divorces. Life is what it is and I can't go back there. I wish I'd handled those divorces better though. My children really got the worst of them. They will deal with the feelings of abandonment for years to come, I'm afraid, while I deal with feeling like my children were snatched from me by my exes. I've never been able to get them to see that I didn't abandon them. I was pushed out of the picture, an inconvenient reminder of a failed relationship to my ex wives and a part-time dad to children who didn't understand why I couldn't be there for them as much as they wanted.
I think that's the thing I look forward to most with the birth of my son, Ethan. I get to be a full time dad, whether he wants it or not. I think I'll be a great dad! I have so much to share with him, so much to show him and teach him. I can't wait to walk through life, holding his hand and listening to the leaves crunch beneath our feet as we walk in the woods. I look forward to seeing his face when he sees the snow for the first time or when he dips his toes in the ocean for the first time. I think that's the greatest thing about babies...everything's new!
Well, that's enough meandering for now. Susana's contractions are coming faster and stronger now and my work is beginning in earnest. Until next time...
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