Dad

Dad never wanted his picture taken. I am not sure I really understand why.  I don’t own a photograph of my father even though he lived in our household for all of the years of our growing and becoming.

Strange.

Perhaps my father preferred to live in the shadows; incognito. He knew the reason.  All I know is that it translated in my mind when I was a kid that he was  ashamed of us or perhaps he didn’t like us very much.  I don’t know.

Strange.

This is the only visual memory I own. All I have is this caricature drawn by my brother around the time of my father’s demise.  Funny but I have carried this around in one of my bibles for years. As a matter of fact it is in the bible that I use for church every Sunday. It doesn’t matter if the preacher calls for a scripture from the New Testament or the Old, flipping through the pages of this well-worn book, I see this face.

Strange.

But I love this cartoon face of my father. It occurred to me recently that this is a profound statement being made on a once a week bases. This picture is reminding me that I never really knew the true man.  I didn’t know where he came from nor who his people were or are. I didn’t know much about his likes and dislikes, either. I mean I never had a full-fledged conversation with the man. It’s human nature to  think the worst when we are left alone to compose the story out of a few negative  scenes in time. But let me be fair. Sometimes I look at this picture and see a kind old man that was a dying breed.   He was an honest to goodness tailor. That’s something special, isn’t it?

Strange.

So I have this caricature in my bible as though I am holding him captive. I somehow don’t want to forget this bit of my root. There are so many questions that I wish to have answered. This must be what an adopted child feels as they grow with a desire to know their true birthparents.  A made up story about my father just won’t do at this late date of my life. I long to know the real truth with each passing Sunday and the flip of the page of this well-worn bible.

Strange.

Perhaps if I knew the who, what, when, where, how of his story my own who, what, when, where or how would be revealed. Maybe the gaps in my own story would be filled in. Those grey areas full of questions would fade. Maybe.  Maybe not.  Maybe the need to know his story is not the real issue. I mean my life really wouldn’t change drastically if I knew. Would it?

Strange.

It has come to my mind that I still have some forgiveness issues to work through regarding my father, something that I thought I had done many moons ago. I thought that nailing the sin and mess of my past to the cross was truly enough. I thought that all of that work I did with my psychologist back in the day was sufficient.

Strange.

I then had a “ah-ha” moment. I was not holding on to my father’s memory by carrying this cartoon face around in my bible. My father was holding me hostage with every Sunday flip of the page. I might as well have been going around with a huge question mark hovering above my head.  I was refusing to let go of those painful unanswered questions and the longer I am holding on to that space the more I am refusing to let Jesus come in and fill in the blanks.  So I ask myself, do inquiring minds really need to know everything?  No, they don’t.

Strange.

I am pretty positive that someone reading this is saying that this is elementary. Un-huh. But here’s the deal. The difference between me and you, dear saint, is that I am willing to be transparent in hopes that I can help somebody and so that me, myself and I can be healed. So many of our relationship issues with each other, our co-workers or our family members stem from forgiveness issues.  As we spend time in prayer, fasting and honest self-examination, let us remember that forgiveness is the gate by which we must walk through to get to the glory of salvation. We are so good at lying to ourselves about our issues but we cannot lie to the One that sees all and knows all.  It is time to release that heavy burden of unforgiveness and truly get on with it. The bible says:

“Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times?   Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, until seven times: but, until seventy times seven.”  Matthew 18:21-22 KJV

#oakager   #soulwriter 

Books by Debi Mason:

What I Thought Was So Just Ain't - Aging through God's Grace

Amazon.com (paperback)

Amazon.com (Kindle edition)

Barnes & Noble (paperback)

Barnes & Noble (NOOK edition)

ISBN-13: 978-0692236475

Release: June, 2014

Arizona Clay: A journey of self-discovery

Amazon.com (paperback)

Barnes & Noble (paperback)

ISBN-13: 9781606964880

Release: June, 2009

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