When I was 9 years old my dad left to go start a business venture in South Dakota. This time, it wasn't just a quick business trip. He was moving there. I didn't even consider the idea that my parents would be divorcing. This was just a work thing. I was devastated as my mom and I drove my dad to the airport (I honestly can't remember where we dropped him off.. I just remember the lonely ride there). I was laying on top of my dad's suitcase in the back of my moms little hatchback car. Holding onto it for dear life, as if I could somehow get him to stay if he knew how bad I wanted it. That was that. He was gone.
I remember a little while later being in a counseling session with my sister. We were in sibling-rivalry counseling because we couldn't stop fighting. Ever. In that session, my sister revealed in her own fit of anger that my parents were getting divorced. Boom. All the fighting and bickering was drown out by the silence in my head. All I could hear was the rushing of my blood in my veins as my heart raced. I couldn't think of anything. I couldn't feel anything. It was like I had disappeared and was in my own little room with nothing and nobody. My whole delusion I had been comfortably living in was destroyed. My protector, my hero, my strong and handsome man who could move mountains was gone. He would never come back. I felt lost. And, unfortunately, I felt that way for next 16 years. Lost.
I tried to call my dad. I tried to write my dad. I wanted to visit him as much as I could, but that was only once a year. I clung desperately to the dad I once knew and I sought after him with my whole heart. I won't pretend to know what my dad was going through. I won't pretend to know what he was thinking or feeling. That is his story to tell, not mine. All I know is that when I was with him, I felt like he loved me... just not like he used to. I didn't feel like a priority. I felt like a temporary burden that he needed to adjust his life for, until a few weeks later when he would be free again... until next year. Don't get me wrong, we had a lot of fun. We went to concerts, saw all the fun things in Arizona, went to Mexico several times, and met some incredible people along the way. There was always a woman in his life, and I was grateful that he had someone to take care of him. I developed a deep and meaningful relationship with an amazing woman (Dora, I am talking about you!) who had three incredible kids that I very quickly adopted in my heart as my brothers and little sister. (I always wanted a little sister, and Alexis, I wouldn't have dreamt up a better one than you.)
I watched my dad flourish as the amazing daddy he used to be. The problem? It wasn't with me. It was with his girlfriend's children. As much as I wished I could have that relationship, I was glad those kids had him. He was a shining example of what a daddy should be- and they deserved that. I wasn't mad or resentful. I knew I had my time with him, and it was over. Then came a day when I was 18 years old. I won't go into detail, but it was just another disappointment on the list that my dad had been building. That was my final straw. That was my breaking point. I was vulnerable and upset, and I told him I was no longer allowing him to hurt me.. or my kids. So I stopped talking to him and went on with my life as if my father had died.
Somehow over the next couple of years, we began talking again and my dad was genuinely trying to show me he had changed. He had found the Lord. Now, he had always known God, but chose to not live like it... not until now. Now he was different and in so many good ways. I know it wasn't easy for him to change so much about his life. I know it wasn't easy for him to heal from the years of hurt he had experienced in his life. I know there is much I don't know, and I probably will never know. What I know is that he genuinely gave his life to Christ and he hasn't turned back. When you hear people talk about "new creation"... I am telling you, my dad is a NEW creation! This man is not like the man I knew when I was little, and he most certainly is not the man I knew when I was growing up. He is different. I am different too. I had a lot of "daddy issues" that jacked me up. They effected every relationship I have ever been in, and I had much to work through. I had much to heal from. I had decided to stop expecting my dad to be the man he was when I was 5. He would never be daddy for me again. In fact, I stopped expecting him to be any kind of father to me whatsoever. There is this magical thing that happens when you put away all expectations- you prevent yourself from being hurt or disappointed. I found God, and over the last three years, I have slowly been building that intimate Abba (Daddy) relationship with Him. He is my daddy. He will never fail me. He will never leave me. He will never hurt me. This frees my dad up to be human. It allows him to make mistakes. I view my dad with adult eyes now. He is not my protector, or my hero. He is not my warrior or my prince charming. He is my brother in Christ. He has scars and bruises and he screws up. That's ok. He points me toward God, and I pray I do the same for him. We have an amazing relationship now and I couldn't ask for anything better.
I have the Daddy I have been searching for. I have been found and am being restored by the One who will never walk away. Sometimes I lay in bed and talk to Him for hours. He calms me when I am hurting, He gives me peace when I am stressed. He comforts me when I worry. He holds me when I need to be held. He protects me from harm, and provides for my every need. I am so thankful for every single step I have taken on this journey. I am thankful for my dad and all he has done for my life. I am eternally grateful for my Abba. My Daddy. He not only gives me life... but abundantly.
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