I Don't Love You, But I Always Will

This is actually a lyric from a song that I can barely listen to because it brings me to that gut-wrenching pain I try to avoid.  It is actually a love song, but as I was getting ready to blog, it is the line that keeps popping up in my head.

As terrified as I was to do it, I finally wrote a letter to my dad. Whether I send it or not is to be determined, but I probably will.  If nothing else, it offers an explanation as to why I don't typically call on holidays. I realize there is a lot for me to learn from my relationship with him that I can transfer to other relationships. No matter how hard I try, I can't make it in to something it is not.  I can't make him want to know me. I can't make him affirm me. I can't make him tell me everything I have ever wanted to hear from a father...and I wish to God that people would stop trying to make up for it. Just because a relationship fails or fails to meet my/your/our expectations, a pithy substitute isn't going to fix it. I just need to deal with it.  I want something I can't have. A stepdad or father figure won't fix it. Another relationship that feels safe won't fix it. It is what it is. I love my dad because he biologically contributed to my makeup and because I have a lot of his personality and would not be who I am had he not contributed to my makeup. That said, he is hard to love and has done nothing to earn my love...but I will always love him.

Represent



Every day I walk out of my home or car I am representing someone or something. It may be myself, my husband, my kids, my faith, a school, a sports team...I could go on and on. I think I have always taken for granted that I would fairly represent or be fairly represented, but that isn't true. People will jump to conclusions quickly and will formulate opinions based on just a few seconds of conversation. I already struggle enough to come out of my shell without having to factor in that people are continually evaluating me. Which brings up another dichotomy in my life. I constantly say that there is no one that truly knows me or would want to and then I get annoyed because people assume they know me and jump to uninformed conclusions even though they really have no idea who I am. It is just one more reason I would much rather be living on a desert island.

Furniture

In the midst of a deep discussion today...ok..a counseling session, I was given the analogy of "if everything in your house burned down wouldn't you go out and buy new furniture?" The point that was trying to be made was that if what you have been dealt thus far turns to shit and ceases to exist, you would go out and replace it. I think know that the counselor was trying to get me to understand that I needed to start replacing some faulty messages and lies I had been told all of my life with things that were good and true. I got the last laugh. When he asked if I would go get new furniture after a house fire, I said, "Yes, but I would go to a thrift store to get it because I would not want to replace it with anything that I valued too much lest the house burn down again.". I think I stumped him. If nothing else, he got a clearer idea of where I am coming from and how far I have to go. What can I say? I'm risk adverse and I try to limit my losses. The thought of feeling gut wrenching pain is enough to force me to throw up walls wherever I can. That said, I will try to see if I can't get it through my thick skull that whether or not I'm ever told this side of Heaven that I have value and worth, that I would know it and believe it...because everyone has value and everyone has worth.  Some may be higher than others, but in the eyes of God, I believe that He values all of us the same. Billy Graham has no more value to Him that the beggar on the street corner.  If anything, His heart may be more inclined towards the beggar.

Teddy

 

 

This summer I heard a speaker share and he opened up his talk by sharing about his dog, Teddy, that had been rescued from the pound. He didn't have a lot of prior history, but he knew that Teddy had been abused and needed a lot of TLC. He also had another dog at home already so he was hoping that having a "friend' would help Teddy to trust again. After months and months of Teddy's timid and shy behavior it was obvious that  there were still deep wounds. I'm not sure how or when the videos were taken, but they often showed Teddy off the side watching his friend leap into his master's arm and showering him with kisses. Teddy had a wall up. If I didn't know better, I would have thought this was a video that was purchased for the sole purpose of making the talk more interesting. But this was real and what I watched felt so real to me. So many days I stand off to the side and watch the world and wonder how they can trust so easy. How can they just be so carefree? Are they on medication? Do I need medication? Maybe if I cared less, I would be more carefree.

 

As the video progressed forward nine months, it showed the speaker walking in the door to his home and Teddy fighting his friend to see who would be the first to jump into the master's arms. Nine months of watching and waiting and learning to trust. Nine months of seeing the master's care and knowing that he was safe and that he wasn't going to harm Teddy. I want to be more like that. I want to trust that the world isn't going to turn on me when I'm not looking? I want to trust that the Master is just waiting for me to trust Him wholeheartedly and to leap into His arms. I bet that would feel good. But it has been more than nine months already and someday I think it may be forever before I trust that someone won't hurt me. But that is an illusion. I hurt people without meaning to (which makes me withdrawal so that I am not causing pain) and people will hurt me without meaning to...and I need to be resilient enough to not take it personal or to not hold a grudge. I need to be able to leap without fear into the arms that want to hold me. I need to trust.

Sometimes When You Lose, You Win

 

As I move each day towards making some sense of the world, I am reminded of one of my favorite movie lines…”sometimes when you win, you lose” which was followed later on by “sometimes when you lose, you win”. And that is kind of the hope in this life…that it will all balance out in the end. When I think of some of my greatest wins in life, there is always the hint of loss in the background. I may have gotten what I thought I wanted, but what had to die in order for me to get there? The wins aren’t always as sweet as they could be in my life because I realize that there is always sacrifice involved. On the flip side, in the valleys of life which seem littered with losses, victory seems like it is just within reach. Because out of some of my greatest losses, there has been new growth and new beginnings.  It is just a matter of remembering that life is a balance.

When Hope Is Lost

 

After yesterday, I started thinking more about my grandfather. He was a good man. He was a great man. He did right by me in a MILLION ways. He loved me fiercely and in tangible ways. He didn’t enable me (although I’m sure my mom would disagree) but he was gentle with me because I was the only granddaughter. That said, when I turned 17 and wanted to buy my first car for $500 (crazy, right?) he loaned me the money and included the terms of the loan with the payoff amount and monthly payment due by the 15^th of each month. I worked at a Hallmark store after school and barely made enough each month  to cover my gas, insurance and $67.50 car payment.

When I ended up attending a Christian college very close to home, he would sometimes come and join me at chapels. I promise he was the only 70something wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a baseball cap. I always felt like an oddball in my family because I was a collection of recessive genes. Blond hair, blue eyes, left handed and fair skin. I got all of it from my grandpa. And the similarities went deeper. We bonded over Root Beer Floats and breakfast. I can’t tell you how many breakfasts we shared over the last 15 years of his life. We would not talk much (unless it was about the stock market), but we were just together.  After he retired in 1986 he kept himself extremely busy by volunteering his time with various civic duties and church activities. A lot of times he probably took on too much, but I think he enjoyed most everything he did and I know I felt a sense of pride in all the good he was doing. My reasoning for mentioning this is that he did a 1 year term as Lieutenant Governor for Kiwanis in 1996. I don’t remember all the details, but I do remember that there was a cruise scheduled for Kiwanis that coincided with my college graduation. To this day, I am still the only member of my family with a 4 year college degree. My grandpa and grandma went on the cruise instead.

There were a lot of people that were at my graduation. I think my dad was there, but I don’t remember to be honest. The one person that I needed to be there…was not there. And I don’t think he ever really apologized for it. I know he said he was sorry that it conflicted, but I never saw that it bothered him as much as it bothered me. Maybe he just didn’t show it to me, but I needed him to. Because to this day, I wonder if maybe it just wasn’t as important to him as it was to me…which turns into maybe I wasn’t  as important to him and he was to me. I know that isn’t true, but at 41 I still can’t understand why he didn’t choose me over the cruise. I know it is the past and there is no way to fix it, but this is just one example of what my brain does…the lie that I believe…why wasn’t it me? Why wasn’t I more important? And my answer…because you aren’t.  This isn’t about having people come around me and tell me I am important, this is about the people who are important to me telling me I am important to them. And when they don’t, I tell myself I’m not important. And I have now reached a point in life where I wake up literally everyday telling myself “I’m not important” and “I’m not loved” so that I know what to expect. And when I hope or start to think that maybe just maybe I have more value than I think, I go and test it out and am reminded again, I’m not important.

This isn’t about my children…I know I am important to them. That involves an entirely different tank and I will be damned if I ever choose what I want over what they NEED. When they need me there…I am going to be there. My hope and prayer is that they never have to question their importance…then again, I don’t struggle nearly as much with knowing my value with the females in my life.

So since I can’t write a letter and talk this out with my grandpa, maybe it is time I move down the line and reach out to my dad. It has been a few years. The thought of reaching out terrifies me because there is a 99% chance that I will be reminded that I’m not important. I don’t think he is equipped to respond in a way that is apologetic. And I don’t think I’m looking to reestablish a relationship, rather I’m hoping that he will say that he is sorry for leading me to believe that I was not important.  That word…HOPE…I hate it. I don’t have it. I lost it when my grandpa died. I knew I would never be loved like that again and so I stopped hoping that I would be and accepted that I would have to OK on my own.

The Difference

For most of my life I have hoped to feel or look different than the way that I do. I think most everyone has something they would change about themselves. I often play/played the “if only “game.  As an adult, I have the head knowledge to know that “if only” has nothing to do with how I look and everything to do with how I feel. Even if we get the verbal accolades and recognition, we still feel discontent…or at least I do. And I have been trying to think about why that is. Is it about getting the accolades from the right people? Is it about knowing who we are inside the packaging? I think it is a little of both, but more about BELIEVEING. I know I wrote about that before, but I’ve always left out the word CHOOSE. I have to choose to believe who I am and that takes a tremendous amount of FAITH.

I can do faith in church. I can read God’s Word and claim His promises. I can trust that He has a plan that is bigger than me and that His plan is ultimately for my good. It isn’t easy, but it feels relatively safe. I have a much harder time doing faith with me. The “Words” I have had in my life have told me something different than what I am supposed to believe.  What if I believe something good about myself that just isn’t true? I know I am believing lies now….meaning I tell myself I'm less than, but isn’t it better to believe a bad lie and be wrong than to believe a good lie and be wrong? I’d rather believe that I’m not lovable and be pleasantly surprised than think that I am loved and be totally wrong. Because I have been wrong before and I don’t want to hold on to something that isn’t true ever again. If it has the potential to change then I don't want to hold on to it.

I had someone ask me today what I was running from. I didn’t realize that I was running, but I probably am. I’m running from hurt. Because I can count on one hand the times that I have cried from such a deep place of loss that I don’t want to ever let myself feel that way again. But that isn’t possible. I’m trying to make it possible. I try to limit the amount of people that I love so that less of me is exposed and I’m ashamed about that. Just because someone loves me am I obligated to love them back? Because if I love them back they will hurt me and leave me. I think this actually goes much deeper. It is not just about people in general…it is about the men in my life. I have had my heart broken by three different people in my life and all of them were men and none of them really knew how to love well. I think my grandfather made great strides towards loving well later in his life, but there were still moments of great wounding. And I know wounding is inevitable, but it would have meant everything – would mean everything – to hear “I’m sorry for not loving you well. I’m sorry for not making you the priority when I should have. I’m sorry for choosing what was best for me in the moments when you really needed me to choose what was best for you.” That would have made a difference.