Monday, June 18, 2012

A Father's Day Post: I Am His, Not Yours

Yesterday was Father's Day. It was a hard day for me, seeing as my dad continues to choose to live in sin and abdicate his role in my life, and in my siblings' lives. I am blessed beyond measure to see God's provision in providing my adopted dad Kevin and several other spiritual fathers in my life through my brothers and Anthony. Even in the brokenness, I am blessed. 

This was written earlier last week, after my dad made some poor choices which hurt our family deeply. 

I don't even know who you are anymore, aside from the man that conceived me?

Truth be told, it is God's grace in both of our lives, yours and mine, that I do not live in the same city as you. Without miles to calm the raging storm inside, I would right now be knocking your door down. I keep going to my phone to call you, not even sure what I will say. But then I pause and remember—my  passionate and wrath-filled words will not help you. Neither would my grace and mercy if the Spirit suddenly birthed it inside of me to give. The only help for you I do not have to offer. None of us kids do. There is truly only one Helper for you, dad. I weep at the thought of life apart from Him—I weep for you, I weep for the hopelessness that I know all too well.

My flesh is exploding with more anger then I have ever experienced towards you. Part of it might be righteous, but most of it is just hurt, deep brokenness that I would never know apart from your decisions. Decisions that continue to destroy any joy I ever experienced with you. I want to  hate you for that. To swear to myself and anyone willing to listen that you will never so much as hear my voice as long as you live. But then I remember that He works all things together for the good of those who love Him, those who have been called according to His purpose. And today, it is for my good that I get to experience this brokenness, this brokenness that is a result of your sin. Praise God that not even your sin can thwart His perfect and sovereign plan for my life—whether wounded or bound up, I am His not yours. 

You have done some stupid things over the years, dad. But honestly I never thought you were capable of this. I don't know why I would limit your ability to fall short apart from Christ, but somehow I think I still believed there is just a little good in each of us, a morality perhaps, even apart from Him who called us out. But today I realize that is a lie—the enemy hates that it just came out too. For ALL have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. No one is righteous, no, not one. Not me, not you.

Sin always takes you further then you want to go, keeps you longer then you want to stay, and costs you more then you are willing to pay. 

Dad, sin has taken you further, kept you longer, and cost you more. You may not realize it yet, or you may just continue on because of it—either way, the consequence of sin is unchanging. It is death. 

Do you know how deeply your sin is wounding your kids? And now even down another generation, your sin is seeping through unto your grandchildren, cursing their names. I can tell you one thing, us kids have thrown a whole lot of grace your way over the years, but when it comes to my nieces and nephews you will find no grace from me. It stops with me—with my brothers and sister. You will not rob from our children all you have taken from us. In God's grace I beg that they will never experience the pain, that they will not bear the scars of your choices as we do. And I will fight for them—all of us will. Dad, out of love we will choose them—every time. That is not a choice I would choose to have to make, but it seems you have indeed chosen it for me—for yourself I suppose.

So though your heart is not mine to judge, you can rest assured until there is true repentance in your life, until you run the opposite direction of the sin that continues to enslave you. The result of sin is death. In making the choice to continue to live in sin, to continue living as a slave to your flesh over the Spirit, you have abdicated your role in my life, in my future children's lives as a result. Death. There is little hope in death. Little hope in being removed completely from the generations which you birthed. Little hope under the curse.

For the wage of sin is death...

There is good news, dad. I know it is all sounding pretty hopeless right now, but yes even for you there is hope, dad. There is one, one who died on a cross so that even though you deserve nothing but death, you have a choice to make. Because of the one who died on that cross, you have been offered a gift. The thing about a gift is, that no one can force you to accept it. I can mail you a gift, my intention is giving it you to keep, but you have to walk to the mailbox and chose to take it, you have to chose to open it, and even then you have to chose to accept it. Its a choice though. You can choose to mail it back to me. The choice is yours completely—I won't force you to keep the gift.

Jesus is like that too. He is not going to force you to accept the gift He has provided for you in His death on that cross.

Did you know that when you accept Him as Lord and Savior, He casts your sin as far as the east is from the west? Did you know that He remembers your transgressions no more? Did you know that there is nothing you have ever done or could ever do that His grace cannot cover? Did you know that He restores the years the locusts have stolen? Did you know that He no longer sees your sin, but He simply sees the blood of Jesus when He looks at you? Did you know that He forgives you? Yes dad, even YOU! Not just some of the things you have done, but EVERY SINGLE SIN, He forgives you. Did you know that He makes all things new—yes, dad, even you. He will make you new! Did you know that He chose you for a purpose? Did you know that He is slow to anger, abounding in love for you? Did you know that He shows compassion to those who fear Him? Did you know that He will not despise a broken and contrite heart? Did you know that He will fight for you, dad, that you only have to be still? Did you know that He already reigns in victory? Did you know that He has numbered every hair on your head? Did you know that He actually cares about you, that He loves you deeply? Dad, did you know?

It is a choice to take the gift, a choice to place your faith in it. A choice I wish I could make for you, but cannot.

...But the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. {Rom. 6:23}

Do you have any idea of this gift you have been offered?? Oh, I wish you could just get a taste, just a glimpse of His grace and mercy, of His love for you. It will mess you up, dad. Yes, I think I will start praying for you to be so messed up—for your life to continue to crumble beneath you. That way, when your feeble knees give out and you have no one standing beside you, that in that moment as you finally lift your drooping head, you will see His glory alone. It'll wreck ya, dad.

All I know to do is to grieve this loss until I can no longer. To let those close to me into the inner place, that they might speak the Spirit to life within me, when I don't have to words to utter. To not sleep  on my anger and hurt. To wake up and praise Jesus' name for allowing me to be broken. To testify to His goodness in spite of it all, in spite of how deep my wounds. To protect the next generation from the pain—however the Spirit would lead. To know Him right where I am at—to be okay in this place. To praise Him for the wounding and praise Him when He binds me up. To trust Him because nothing else makes sense. And eventually, to pray for you dad.

Thats all I know to do. Thankful that in the pain, yes even here, He is still enough. 

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