Notes from the paper trail to the vault… vol 1.

I was reading a book recommended to me by a mentor, and I came across a line talking about persistence. It explained how people who are innovators (first) have to fight for things. And then one line hit me like a brick to the back of the head. (haha, I know, my analogies are great) “Fathers fight for their families.”

As day turns to night, and nothing seems quite right —

Ahh, here we are again. wA comes up. I’m reminded of something I was supposed to be doing — praying. And I’ve known for some time that my consistency about what God’s told me to do, despite what happens around me, becomes my weapon. And, almost immediately after this post (link), I stopped praying/executing the things that I was supposed to do. Why did that happen?

Yes, part of me felt justified because I’m not “wrong.” But, in the words of my dear friend Cees and Yusef, “You have to get delivered of that thing…” And while that term is normally used in jokes about candy/sugar, there was a part of me that had retreated back. In that second that I read that phrase, I replayed every step of my life where I WANTED him there. Wanted him there to ignore/disobey/yell at me. Wanted him there to say “it’s ok…you’re putting your pops on the shelf for your friends..” That part of me, has not died/gone away.

So is there redemption for the time, or do we just begin from where we are? Either I believe all the bible or I don’t. Either I believe that God can do it (exceedingly above all that I can ask or imagine), or, he can do nothing. He (God) can’t lie. So what am I going to do?

How do you combat the single voice in 1,000, saying that their right? And what happens when that voice convinces a few more? And then a few more? And then what happens when life doesn’t contradict the reality that the lone voices present? Stuff is heavy. Getting over a parent that hasn’t done what they should’ve is like learning to walk without a leg. Somehow it’s never quite the same or right. There’s always something new to learn how to do…always a shred of longing that happens when you look at someone that has two legs and can run/walk/skip normally.

I don’t hate on people who were more fortunate in their parental positions, because, my life could be much worse. There’s a mother at my church who lost her father at 6, her grandmother (who was her caretaker) at 12 and her mother never wanted her (and made it known/plain). But the peace that she was able to live her life is my model. She is a strong Christian (she’s 86), despite that the aunt that she went to live with at 12 was a Jekyll and Hyde character in the way that she was treated. She is so SOUND and went on to have a marriage that ended in death and raised three children who are emotionally balanced, and have a great relationship with their parents. Redemption is possible. So, I thank you Lord, for my life.


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