Cancer of the Heart-Update from "Dear Dad"

So eight months ago I posted a blog entitled "Dear Dad...I'm sorry...How's it going?". I never posted a follow up...on purpose. You see just three short weeks later I received the first of three responses from him and his wife. Apparently his wife had opened the letter and read it while he was out of town and immediately sought me out on Facebook and sent a message. It was very sweet as she had embraced my letter and wanted to immediately connect via phone and get on with life so to speak. As much as I could find nothing wrong with her message I still became angry and irritated at such a response. I dismissed it and pretended I didn't receive it. Then a week later another message....this time with their phone numbers again pleaded to connect. I again laughed and scoffed..."psst...whatever". Then the letter came, in my dad's handwriting no less. It was written with excitement and nervousness as he anxiously awaited my contact. He even sent pictures of my two little siblings (who are my kids age....sigh) and discussed how things were going in his life and so forth. The sentence that stuck out the most to me though was this.."now we can be a family again!" Uh what? Did he just say "a family?" What a joke. I was so angry and disgusted I completely dismissed everything he said and filed it away-case closed. But....it wasn't closed. This was not what God had wanted me to do. You see I had did what he said.....literally. Wrote half a page, stuck it in the mail and went running in the other direction. "See God, See!! I did it. Now let's get off the subject. It's done, let's move on". Over the last few months I have had arguments aloud with God...."Okay, Okay, I'll reply. Okay" only to make every excuse in the world not to pick up the pen and do it. After several failed attempts to get me to listen He decided to speak through my dreams (which he does often-I have notepads full). Two nights ago I dreamed I had cancer. There was a tumor in my chest behind my breast-right where my heart is. During my dream I was going from Doctor to Doctor to figure out if I had cancer or not. The time period was present but dinosaurs roamed (symbolizing the past) and after I had tests run at the first clinic weeks and weeks passed and I felt scared and anxious since I still had no results so I went to an oncologist with all my kids in tow. They ran tests and assured me before I left that there was no cancer and that I was fine. But by the time I got home the doctor's office had called back and there was a mistake, they had read me the wrong results and I did in fact of cancer of the chest (?-what they called it) -but that it was caught early. All throughout the dream I kept hearing "but we caught it early". Then at the end people came to my door to sell me half chested shirts and outfits. They were wanting me to accept this state of being and just remove it and move on. When I woke up I knew what God was telling me. I was allowing cancer to creep into my heart and that if I didn't "catch it early" it would kill me. That tender pliable heart would turn to stone and would destroy me from the inside out. The other catch was the people selling me the "half chested outfits". He informed me that the world would allow me this out-they would tell me it's okay not to respond and that I had done my part where my dad was concerned and to just remove that convicted part of the heart and move on. I was speechless. I knew I had to sit down and do it. It's so funny, it took me months to write a single sentence to him "Dear Dad..I'm sorry...How's it going"...but when I sat down today with a postured heart of repentance and correction I wrote 11 pages. 11PAGES!!! I will admit I didn't drop one tear writing them...until I read it aloud to my husband and then I found myself sobbing. Everything, all the cancer I had hidden in my heart towards him came out onto the pages and I was finally released from the darkness that had crept in me. I was so afraid to just "GO THERE" that I had become unresponsive to the tender nudges of His voice. If I am to take this next step in my life to do His work and His calling on me (working with lost and hurting children) how could anything take place if I couldn't address the lost and hurting child within myself? Whew. It wasn't pretty and I'm kinda an ugly crier but the tenderness the Lord filled me with and the warmth from His arms holding me tight as I wrote it will forever be in my mind. So as I finish this post who do you need to get right with? Has cancer creeped into your heart because you just didn't want to go there? I won't quote you the entire letter but I will include this little tidbit. Since I got such a huge response from the first posting I am humbly reminded of all the fatherless (earthly) daughters out there who may humbly need to make the first step. Posture your heart and forgive.

"I can't offer you a father/daughter relationship. I can't even pretend that a happy family will ever exist for us. That ship has sailed at least 12 years ago. At 29 years old, all I can offer you is friendship. I can conclude that I have never known you as a person and have never had a relationship with you. And with you missing 20 years of my life it is safe to say that you know nothing about me. I'm not ready for phone calls and certainly not visits but I am willing to write. I'm willing to forgive you and perhaps build a friendship via mail. This is my effort to try so that my kids can see that you can forgive and try at any age in life. I hope you can see my extended hand and meet my conditions with humility and responsibility for the decisions you have made throughout my life. I was a child who didn't ask to be brought into this world. I didn't ask for the circumstances my parents found themselves in. I didn't ask for war. I only asked for love and to be free from co-dependant expectations that were placed upon me from birth. I needed the people who were suppose to love me the most to do just that-love me. But here we are....at a crossroad of responsibility and action. I am willing to accept my part and ask forgiveness for my actions...my only question is are you?"

We are all on the same team......aren't we?

Social media.... sigh..the greatest and worst invention of our time. We now have the ability to sit on our couch in the comfort of our homes while catching up with 500+ friends lives all in about an hour. It's ingenious. But, it has also opened up a new kind of evil in the world. We now have the ability to spew out our negative thoughts, feelings, well just about anything to pretty much anyone we want to at any time of day. Marriages have ended, life long friendships destroyed, lives ruined, reputations crushed, people beaten, robbed, murdered and cyber bulling that is so bad people actually take their own life. It's madness.....all because of the 240 characters of What YOU were thinking. Crazy to think how words carry that much power. And as much as WE (Christians) want to believe it's everyone else, because we would never do such a thing because we only update Godly things....we do it too. The sad part is, we think so much of ourselves that we don't even realize we are doing it. We sit down at our computer, read something Sally Sunday wrote and think, "I'll show her" and spend 15 mins researching something clever to post and pretend it's just "coincidence" that it is in complete opposition to her status. Don't pretend you haven't....We have all done it, myself included. The sad part is that Sally Sunday usually was just sharing a revelation that she herself needed to hear. She felt God speak to her in her own weakness and thought.."This is too good, I need to share it with everyone!" and posted it with no further intention. But for some reason, Christians...WE....seem to think everyone is indirectly talking about US on Facebook. It's kinda funny actually. Because of our extreme insecurities with our roles in the kingdom and where we ultimately fit it in we scroll through our feed and have that moment of "They are directing that towards me!! I know it!!". So it begins....the Gentleman's War. Ever see paintings or drawings of the British Army? They were legendary with their ability to fight a war with music playing, their finest clothes on and all marching directly towards one another...firing away. Head held high in pride and as those around them were shot and killed yet they kept on marching. Madness...utter madness. Kinda like what we do. God forbid we deleted Sally Sunday, she's "our friend"...and we love her dearly and well that just wouldn't be the Christian thing to do! But we have to get our Gentlemen jab in there somewhere. We will shoot to kill, all while wearing our Sunday best because we feel it's the more civilized thing to do. It's one of those things where you step back and think..."Aren't we all on the same team??" Where did Christians draw the line with one another and say.."Um, you may love Jesus and all but I don't agree with your thoughts on where we should put that foyer table so I'll pretend to be nice to you at Church but I wont approve your friend request. This is what the western church has come to.....division amongst ourselves! we are all believers, all recognized as crap outside of Jesus, all in need of a savior yet we can't even associate ourselves as friends on a website?! My God, how are some of these people going to handle an eternity with Sally Sunday and her bad furniture taste? LOL! And we wonder how abortion, child trafficking, homelessness, orphans, war...disease famine have all gotten WAY out of control is because the enemy has us all distracted wining at each other! If we would all just SNAP OUT OF IT and stand together we could claim the victory that is already ours!!! The only greatest church in the world I am aware of...IS US. We are the greatest church in the world!!! Not that one building in that one small town in that one state in that one country. The greatest church in the world has no walls, needs no passport, has no skin color requirement and has no political affiliation. It is EVERY BELIEVER on the face of THIS PLANET. Period. And until we all realize that, all look each other in the eye and say "Will you fight this WITH me"...20,000 people will die of hunger today, 890,000 will die due to contaminated water, 2.5 billion will have no access to clean drinking water, 124,000 abortions will take place and so forth and so on. Only when we unite together will anything ever change. Until then we will all be pointing fingers at one another...demanding justification for why they aren't doing what we are passionate about. All while Jesus looks on and thinks "If they would only humble themselves, unite together for my cause...things could be different". I want to be different, do you?

What does a life wasted for Jesus look like to you?

The last few weeks have been rough to say the least. I haven't gone one day without my phone ringing and having to have a tough and often heated conversation with family members of our newest additions. It seems that with the holidays approaching, everyone felt entitled to suddenly have visitation and I had to burst some bubbles. Plus the birth mother is on her 4th rehab facility since taking custody of her kids and dealing with that in itself is a full time job! And with those daily ups and downs I started to sense about two weeks ago that I was struggling. I found myself really down and starting to get really angry. I couldn't put my finger on it, what was my deal? Then as I was reading this book about a week ago, Come to Papa by Gary Weins, I realized what my problem was. You see two months ago I had things figured out. I have been a parent for almost 11 years, I have sacrificed many things for my kids. My hopes, dreams, aspirations.....many things were put on the back burner for them. I was a teenage mom and so I had been waiting for the day to be able to do something for myself. So now with my youngest almost 6, I pulled them back out, dusted them off and thought-NOW IS THE TIME! I enrolled in school to get my bachelors, something I have attempted to do three times and have never been successful-pregnancies, job issues, home school. I had the next 9 months planned out, school, mission trips to two different countries, and I was planning on getting my ESOL global teaching certificate in the spring. I felt like I had a grasp on what God's plan was. I was excited! So that afternoon when I got the call, I never thought once about any of that and immediately went into foster parent mode. But as the days, weeks, and now months have gone by the reality finally has set in. These things I had planned to do were no longer an option. And my flesh was angry. It was an incredibly humbling experience to look in the mirror and realize I was angry at God because I couldn't do the things I felt entitled to. I had to prostrate myself on the floor and ask my Daddy for forgiveness. And it was there....on the floor that I was reminded of my promise to him. A few years ago I prayed a prayer and made a promise....."Lord, I lay my life down as a sacrifice to you. I want Your dreams to be mine, Your heart to be mine, Your life to live through me. Use me in anyway you see fit. I want to waste my life for you. Here I am....send me." So what did He do, He took me at my word and has begun to do just that. How could I say those things and not expect him to act on them?? I began to weep....Father, how could I be so selfish? It was then that He showed me the bigger picture in my life and that these small, human-minded plans that I had weren't good enough for His beloved. He loved me so much that His plans were greater and the ripple they would have on eternity was the bigger picture He saw. His leadership is always perfect. So, as I have moved forward with this new revelation this last week I have been looking with new eyes. So many in The Body are stuck in similar situations. The Church has painted this picture that Jesus wants us all to have fulfilling lives having fun, living it up and being blessed beyond measure. But what does that look like? What does it mean that He came to give greater and more abundant life? Does that mean bigger vacations, nicer cars, better houses, more and more toys than I have the storage for, eating at nice restaurants 3 and 4 times a week and having the funds to buy whatever my hearts desire is because I am a top tither and God is paying me back? Is that what it means to live the blessed life? Or is Living the Blessed Life about laying down our desires, our dreams, our plans and saying....None of that matters because I am sold out for you. I am willing to completely die to myself and allow you to plan my life, whatever that may look like. At the beginning of this year my husband was making $20,000 more than he is now. We could eat out when we wanted, take the kids anywhere they wanted to go, have date nights monthly and buy the little luxuries we desired. But as I look at my life today-broke, 8 deep in a four bedroom house, struggling to keep food in the pantry I realize that I am happier now than I have ever been. I heard an abandoned child tell me that taking him to chuck-e-cheese was the best day of his life. Those are the things of value to me, those are the memories I am storing up. Although I may not experience the successes our culture deems valuable, my life will be completed wasted for Jesus...and that is my new dream.

Dear Dad...I'm sorry.....How's it going?

Even typing the word "Dad" makes me uncomfortable. Many of you already know the goods on my biological dad or perhaps you saw him on Dateline many years back but to preface this post I'll fill the rest of you in. I am the product of a dysfunctional family. Mother was on her 3rd marriage when she married my dad and my older brother Chris was 3 and from her second marriage. Things were rough to say the least. My dad was involved in organized crime and made really bad choices. I was getting high before the age of 5 due to second hand smoke. Fights were regular and violent and I had a front row seat to some crazy physical abuse towards my brother from my dad. Things weren't good. They of course divorced when I was 5 and after fights over custody, lies, bribes and attempted kidnapping, my visits with my dad ceased at age 8. When I was 12 he made his Dateline appearance which of course got everyone in my family stirred up. They spent 10 minutes interviewing him about his ability to defraud people and had stolen millions from some guy by stealing his identity and blah blah. They showed him behind bars, walking the yard...the whole deal. All I could do was shake my head. I then preceeded to spend my teens year in a whirlwind of anger and depression which led to my moving out at the tender age of 15. I spent two years living from friend to car and car to friend until I ended up pregnant at age 17. I then decided to marry my boyfriend at the time (ugh....another day another blog) and was slapped with the reality that my dad still had joint custody and he needed to sign consent for my marriage. Awesome. Sounded like fun. After phone calls and distant family searches we located his number and I was told it would be my job to call. It was uncomfortable to say the least. Long story short he met us in Tennessee, Pigeon Forge to be exact (ugh...again another blog...LOL) which was the site of the wedding to sign the license. This really sounds like a lifetime movie I know...bless me. I was anxious and distrought over this meeting. I couldn't even remember what he looked like. Once we entered the courthouse.....it got ugly. I was prepared to see him....but not his new family I was unaware of. I walk up to a man that abandoned me 10 years earlier to find him with a new daughter, who looked exactly like me. I flipped out. I said some not nice words and stormed out. Course he signed his part and left humbly. A couple months later I received 3 cassette tapes in the mail from him. He sat down and detailed his entire life for me to hear....of course from his perpective. Some of which I now know were untrue and exaggerations but I considered it truth. His whole message was that of the victim and I bought it. I agreed to attempt a relationship...and it only lasted a few months. We never really talked about the missing 10 years...it was as if he pretended they didnt happen and I was 8 again. But, I probably wasn't ready to go there anyway. I even went down to Miami to visit him with baby in toe. After I got home, conversations became fewer and fewer until one of us agreed to call the other the next week and 6 years went by with no phone call. Fast forward to summer 2006. Chad, the kids, our friends(cousins)from Ohio and myself find ourselves in Miami on vacation. The minute we arrived I was well aware of where he lived and his store in the local mall. I couldn't get it off my mind. It was of course driving Chad nuts to meet the infamous mobster so he and Lewis went window shopping....in his store...LOL. They saw him, talked to him the whole works. All without him knowing it was HIS son-in-law he was takling to. He even mentioned he had a daughter and grandson that lived in Marietta...little did he know I actually had 3 children know and was remarried. They finished the small talk and headed back to headquaters. LOL. We didnt really discuss it much until the day we were to leave. We packed up and headed north and then I couldn't take it. Chad pulled into the mall and I got out...by myself as I demanded.... and preceeded to confront him. I walked into his store to find him at the back, casually walking by me- smiling, and nodded and said "How are you" as he walked into the storage room. I realized then my own dad didn't recognize me....I am sure it fueled my interaction. When he came out and saw me waiting by the desk he realized I was there for him. As he approached he finally recognized me and our confrontation began. I won't spell out word for word what took place. The facts are I was cold, articulate, condescending, rude, disrespectful and on mark. I have always had the ability to say what I want to say, when I want to say it...which hasn't always done me good. I never raised my voice, just spoke my piece and asked some really hard questions. My end to the conversation....my dad asks for my contact information and practically begs to at least keep in touch. My response..."I am 24 years old...what do I need a dad for now? You have new kids now that need you....do it right with them". I swung my hair around and proceeded to walk out the store. That was it....my last interaction. I felt great! Called my brother and spilled every word...we were high fiving through the phone. I had closure....it was over. So I thought. Fast forward again 4 year later...to today. As much as I believed it was over...I had closure...the Holy Spirit has revealed otherwise. As I have asked him to purge my heart he revealed a truth I didn't want to see. I was wrong and I needed to make it right. But, maybe I was discerning it wrong? Well, I have literally all but had a BRICK WALL land in my bedroom that says....CALL YOUR DAD. And, I am usually really good at this. When I look in the mirror (he speaks to me a lot when I am doing my hair..lol) and the Holy Spirit says "You messed up, you need to apologize" I usually immediately contact that person. But.....this is the most difficult one of my life. And I dont know why. It seems so simple, so direct and yet my flesh is FIGHTING it tooth and nail. I keep telling Chad.."What in the world is God thinking....I mean....what do I even have to say to the man??". The Holy Spirit has become impatient with me as he has sent me oodles of dreams and visions telling me to do this and yet I ask the same question everytime and put it on the back burner. Well, when my head hit the pillow tonight he answered me. "You keep asking what do I say? What do I say...Here it is baby girl.....Dear Dad, I'm sorry...how's it going"
Although I have every right (there are many ugly facts that are not in this blog...many many things) to cuss him up one side, down the other and walk away to never hear of him again its not about being right. For as much as I say I want to be like Jesus, Jesus wouldn't do that. And if I truly mean what I say...I must humble myself, swallow my pride and apologize for MY actions regardless of anything else. Because that my friends...is what Jesus would do. Being right doesn't matter to Him. Cause if it's about being right then I have many apologies to make. So, if I can do this....when everything society tells me I shouldn't...cause he deserves it. What is the Lord telling you to do that you have put off? What does your brick wall say?
As for me, a letter goes out in the morning. Granted, it's one sentence....but it's a start. And that is all Jesus is asking for.

So....How are you?

If you know me, you know I can't stand those words. They have become the motto for superficial chat. Everyone is always "Great", "Fine" or "Wonderful" and yet their face paints a different picture. When did we become of society of not caring? Because the bottom line is...no one really wants to know because we tell ourselves its not our business or if they do they dont have time to hear it. We throw those words out there and expect a one word response so we can semi hug, say that's great and move to the next person. What if we told the truth? What if we screamed from the top of our lungs...."NO, I'M NOT FINE!" Well, I'll start. A couple of weeks ago I wasn't "Great", "Fine" or "Wonderful"....I wasn't even "Okay". Life had brewed up a good ol' fashion hurricaine and it was wailing full force. So what do we do when we are faced with storms? Well the world tells us to evacuate (a politically correct word for run)and/or take shelter. Our flesh immediately says, "Um, this sucks....lets go where it won't suck" and we entertain the thought of a place to go where we won't get hurt, as if this utopoia exists where relationships are perfect and the world is as it should be. But lets face it, no such place exists in this world. So, there I stood in my own little hurricaine, debating on where to run and hide when reality slapped me in the face. I'm not really the running type. In my past I have made choices that there was no running from....the music had to be faced. So, I turned into the wind and allowed myself to feel it all, the rain, hail, pounding wind....everything that lay before me. Because it's there I learned to truly feel. You see, my marriage had been rocked. I was lied to by someone I loved tremendously and it hurt...bad. I was angry...crazy angry. But here's where I think we go wrong. It's okay to get angry. It's okay to be mad...embrace the hurt because it's then when we realized how much we loved. If we deal with the emotions as they come instead of surpress them, we can begin to see clearly again. Yes, I was lied to. Chad made some bad choices and those choices affected everyone around him negatively but...we have all screwed up at one point or another. I believe we set these expectations for our spouses that are unrealistic and when they dont meet them we throw in the towel and demand a refund on our "Happily ever after". We show more grace and forgiveness to our children then to our spouses because apparently we think the other should have it all figured out and should proceed to show us this over our shared lifetime. Not so. Marriage to me now means "loving the guts". It means actually looking past the outer shell with the dings and paint chips and seeing the heart of the person. People make mistakes, spouses make mistakes, Chad made a mistake. But, through facing the music I realized the truth. What's my truth? I am madly in love with my husband. I love the way he looks at me, I love the way he makes me laugh and I adore the look he gives me when I have done something silly/gross. He is my flawed Prince Charming.
So when failure inevitably comes our way, lets be a generation of second chances. A generation that sticks it out and says....I said "for better or worse...so lets deal with both." Lets love one another wrecklessly without hesitation or guards. Let's be real with one another and declare our hurts with the same boldness as our happiness. Lets stop and really listen and embrace one another. So the next time someone asks you "How are you"...be bold, be truthful, be wrecklessly unafraid. Embrace your truth.....for its there you'll find freedom.