Month: June 2017

Father’s Day Gloom

Deep breaths and long exhalation is all I could do to prevent obnoxious sobs from escaping my body. The tears flowed and flowed. Once one wave passed another followed soon after. “Keep your self together,” is what my mind diligently urged me to do, but my heart was broken; shattered in pieces. My joy for those girls was explosive, but so was my burdened heart.

Why couldn’t that be my father and I?

Why hasn’t he changed yet?

What is taking him so long?

How much longer will it be before he is finally aware of the tragedy: his life he destroyed?

Will he ever change?

Although Father’s Day was never celebrated in our household growing up, the emotional pain of being reminded of the father I should have, the loving father that should’ve been present for the past 9 years is inexplicable. It’s so easy to drown in a sea of anguish, feeling alone because everywhere you turn are present fathers. Present. Not perfect, but nonetheless present.

Could you imagine my efforts to escape the agony originally triggered by a Father’s Day celebration at church by going to a restaurant by myself only to be surrounded by families with fathers? Took a trip to the nail salon only to watch a father come in with his daughter and niece to get mani-pedis together? At least the brow place was free of reminders.

Nevertheless, I am grateful for a mother who stuck by the side of her children regardless of the countless opportunities presented to her to escape. A strong woman who had to add on the duties and responsibilities of her estranged husband to her overwhelming job as mommy to 4 children, daughter to her elderly mother, and sister to her blind sister. My mother is an amazing woman, and though I desperately wish my father could be different, that can never negate the superwoman my mother is.

Even though you’ll probably never read this:

I love you, dad. I forgive you for everything that has happened. The time you were around you did what you knew how having being fatherless yourself. Though things may never be the same, I love you until my dying day. God has been my father no doubt, even before your absence. I pray you experience His unconditional love poured out for you that can change you and I. I pray that you wholeheartedly forgive me and the family for however wronged you felt.

Your little girl always.



love + honor

As time seems to pass with increased speed lately, my desire for a civil relationship with my family increases. Now my use of the word ‘civil’ may, in your mind, paint a picture of a hostile family culture as the current state of my family, which isn’t exactly accurate. Of course this all depends on your distinct perspective. So allow me to make this clear: our home flows with so much love and that love is expressed intensely; especially in the case of disagreements.

No, we do not put our hands on each other, but words will be exchanged and tone of voice can be, well, nasty. We understand each other’s ways, but should that be used as an excuse for disrespect?

The Bible says that we should obey and honor our parents, and to be honest with you I have struggled with the obedience part a lot which has had a domino effect on the honor part.

My father is not in the picture, so that leaves my mother. I love my mother to pieces, but my tolerance level had become nearly nonexistent for her. It was as if I was the landmine and her words were the foot setting me off. I didn’t want to hear what she had to say about anything. I was tired of her attempts to make me go her way. I wanted her to accept me for who I am, understand that I won’t always agree with her, allow me to be free of what I felt like was manipulation. It was as if I was the landmine and her words were the foot setting me off.

The thing is: am I accepting her for who she is? Have I loved her unconditionally the way God does? Am I honoring her?

Yes, I am at an age where I can make decisions for myself. No, I do not need to have decisions made for me. But I still need my mother. Her words are what let me know that she’s there and that she deeply cares. We do have boundary issues to resolve, but that does not negate the honor she deserves.

So it has been one of my most urgent prayers that God heals my relationship with my mother. I know that this means that a work must be done in me.

James 1:19 says, “…be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.”

I have been slow to listen, quick to speak, and quick to get angry. That is opposite of the word of God. That is not of God whatsoever, and I am so glad that God placed someone in my life who wasn’t afraid to lovingly check me on this and actually lives this out.

There are a plethora of other principals laid out in the Bible that I must work on, and I dedicate myself to God’s work in me and through me. With that being said, I am learning how to love my mother the way I should and honor her the way she should be honored.