Blessed

I wrote that previous blog, felt really sorry for myself, came home, got in the word and was totally blessed. I was reading Romans 4 over and over because it wasn't sticking. Then I read verse 17 about 6 times because it wasn't sticking.

The God who gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were.

Not that these series of events line up at all but...

As my guest blogger has written, several of my closest friends, including myself, have dad issues. I spoke with my guest blogger tonight about this topic actually. The way we view our dads reflects how we view any type of "male" relationship and definitely reflects in how we relate to the Lord.

This week is the anniversary of my dad's passing. It is always a hard week for me. At first I didn't think it would get me because I had a bit of a grieving period over Christmas so I thought I was done for the year. I very much feel healed from my father's passing but it is never easy just the same. It is a day I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
On top of that, I have felt some distance with the Lord this weekend.
Not to mention the "guy" that I love talking to has been on a trip and not able to talk.
Strike 3...totally bummed
Then tonight, as I'm reading that verse over and over, my phone rings and it's Greg. This may be the first time (with the exception of Christmas break when he was at the grocery and called to see if I needed anything) that his name has popped up on my phone. Usually I talk to mom and she will pass the phone off to him or he will answer her phone. Tonight he called just to say he loves me and he is proud of me. He felt "challenged" to do that for me tonight. I do see that a relationship with me is a bit of a challenge because it is an awkward relationship of sorts. It is so much easier for him to call Amanda or Jay and tell them he loves them and is proud of them. They expect him to do that. I expect Mom to do that for me and assume Greg feels the same way and this process works. But tonight, he needed to say it and I needed to hear it. There is something about a girl that wants the men in her life to feel proud of her.

Greg asked me what I was doing. I told him I was reading my bible. He was so proud of that. To be honest, it was Greg who taught me to read my bible. Every night growing up, we gathered as a family, Greg would read from the bible and we would all say a prayer. At the time we hated this ritual. It was the worst part of the day. Looking back now, it was that disciple that has instilled in me a desire to end my day with the Lord.

I am so blessed!

Promises

Right now, I feel very unsettled...maybe even discouraged. It's hard for me to pinpoint the source of these feelings and really, that is irrelevant. What is relevant is a solution. In order for me to be fulfilled, I must find some promises and claim them with all I've got.

"So do not fear, I am with you, do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand...For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you."

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."

"My grace IS sufficient for you you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.'"

Guest Blogger

To my precious guest blogger...it's a process. It is a hard, unfortunate process and I'm sorry that you have to be in it. Thank you for being candid. It's hard to do but teaches us all a little something. Thanks!

Father Wounds

The original blogger was gracious enough to share her space with me and allow me this opportunity to post as a guest-blogger on here.

I've heard a lot about father wounds. I could see them and their effects on people around me throughout high school and college. It always made me thankful for the loving parents I've been blessed to be surrounded and supported by.

However, my relationship with my father first became a little strained when I hit puberty. Once I got over the thrill of riding 4-wheelers, going down to the farm, and hunting, we didn't have much in common anymore. I wanted to be close to town, hang out with other kids my age, and be pretty. I could tell when he started to realize his little girl was growing up. He didn't like it. He would set rules and limits and hear no rationale for adjusting them. He's not very open to the opinions of others, especially when it flies in the face of his. With me being just like him and thinking my opinions were just as valuable, this never went too well. I tried working for him, and with me being the only person there who didn't walk on eggshells for him, there was friction there as well.

When I went to college and immersed myself in the things of God, there was even more distance between us. We were still in contact, and he still graciously supported me emotionally and financially, but there was distance...unspoken distance. I began to resent the fact that he didn't buy into church and Biblical things to the degree I thought he ought. He began to resent me as a judgmental bigot that stood as one of the main reasons he wasn't that invested in church. He thinks the Church is full of hypocrites. And it is, depending on how you look at it. That's still no valid excuse for not pursuing holiness.

The overlying issue here is actually the one that runs the deepest. I love my father, and I know that he loves me. However, I have never rested in a feeling of unconditional acceptance in our relationship. There have even been times when I felt like he wouldn't LIKE me if I weren't his daughter. Just today, I realized how much of my insecurity and inadequacy about relationships this encompassed. Always I have had trouble grasping the unconditional acceptance from God. I have never given that to myself, and I'm not sure I have accepted that from many individuals. Definitely not in hardly any relationships with males. I have known for a while that I needed to learn to truly love myself. I haven't gotten to the other side of that mountain yet.

But now there's a new one. I don't understand the unconditional acceptance of a man. I can't understand it from God, and I've never felt it completely or maybe not consistently from my father. I haven't really given it, either. Great. We're all handicapped.

I just needed to get this out. Blogger host, thank you for allowing me the opportunity.