Transference. Juxtaposition. Mind and heart clouded. Believing lies. That was me. My view of myself, the world, and God, was shrouded–clouded in misperception.
For too long I was angry, and I hated. Hated his indifference–hated that he left. Yet over and over, I preyed upon his guilt. “I want this, I want that…” And he would give it (“If you, being evil, know how to give good gifts…”), trying to buy my love. Me, hating myself for wanting to be bought.
But it wasn’t things I craved–it was him. Because baubles don’t mend rent hearts, and the new shiny loses its sheen.
The only thing I wanted: his time.
And the one thing denied me: time. I wanted to know that I was his beloved son, but having no love for himself he had none to give… Funny how that works, isn’t it?
The “tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme” isn’t love, but a maxim: “Hurting people hurt people.”
Look to Adam and Eve, and see the genesis of the blame game: “The serpent gave, and I ate.” “The woman You gave me…” It’s always someone else’s fault.
But not anymore. Not for me. I have nothing but pity for him–my dad–because his brokenness doesn’t begin with him, but goes back–to his parents, grandparents, and into the mists of time.
Would that it could end with me.
Yet I know I am horribly broken, but unlike many of my forebears: I own it. And I take responsibility for believing lies, and trying to justify my behavior. I am a sinner saved by grace. Heavenly Father, forgive me for seeing You through the lens my dad left with me–because that’s not You, You are not that way. You and he are not one and the same.
Lord, I want to see Your face.
How about you? It’s so freeing–instead of hiding–to see ourselves as we are. What do you want to lay bare upon the Lord’s table?