I sit here watching the rain come down fiercely on April fool’s day and wondering about Spring and wild flowers and if the rain will kill them or help them to thrive in the coming two months. My thoughts this morning are scattered, but in a way I can sense Jesus pulling them into focus, if that even makes sense.
I have learned over Easter holiday that my widowed father is requesting my Evangelistic husband to visit him this week.
Those of you who have read my book, “Climbing Out of the Box, My Journey Out of Sexual and Spiritual Abuse Into Freedom and Healing”, know that my mother died this past year. Dad and Mom were married 62 years. During the time of her death Jesus revealed to me that there was a time in Mom’s life as a young, innocent girl when she accepted Him as her Savior. I was stunned because there was no fruit in her life of knowing my Jesus; At least not that I could tell.
I went through so much over the years trying to find in her the Mom my heart longed for and finally found peace through releasing her from my expectations.
She did not protect me while my father was molesting me as a child and said she had no idea, and maybe she didn’t …because she lived in denial of most truth. She did not protect me when I finally told her the whole story as an adult. In fact, she distanced herself from me even more in anger that I would tell her what he did.
Miraculously I forgave her. I realized she was reacting out of her own life story, whatever that was. God filled my heart with love and relief that she was with Him when she died. The only grief I felt at losing her was the grief of a little girl who longed for a mother and now that chance was gone.
But this blog is not about her. It is about my Dad; the guy who robbed me of my childhood, my innocence, and opened the door for years of pain and dysfunction in my life and then because of my silence, molested my precious daughter, as well.
I haven’t seen him since mom died. With her gone I don’t even know what I would say to him. We have nothing in common except mom. He never called me, never reached out to me, never acknowledged my birthday, and has not asked my forgiveness for what he did to me, and then to my sweet little girl.
He is really old now and ready to die.
I don’t want him to go to hell.
Dad’s father, my precious grandfather who never had a clue of what his own son did to me, told me when he died that he knew his son would make it to heaven. At the time my dad would scoff at any mention of Jesus. And I would think to myself when grandpa would say that, “But he doesn’t know what dad did.”
But now, as I stare out at the rain on the 1st of April, with newness of Spring all around me, I can’t understand my own feelings. I have no remorse towards my elderly dad.
I should hate him, but I don’t. I can’t explain it, other than to say that it has to be God at work in me. I want dad to find Jesus. I wouldn’t even try to understand how Jesus sorts it all out, but from my own understanding I believe even the vilest sinner can be forgiven.
I pray Dad asks for forgiveness for being a child molester and finds God’s grace.
I pray that his motive is not just to go where Mom is but to find peace and love and forgiveness for himself.
I am perplexed when others ask me why I would even care. I can only answer it is because of Jesus.
Unconditional love looks past the sin, past the outward appearances and actions, and straight to the heart.
I am sure Dad has a story too. Something happened to him in his life that demons took over and made him who he is.
We are not capable of loving unconditionally within ourselves. How can we love those who have created so much pain and agony in our lives without the supernatural power of Jesus’ own love flowing through us? I know I am a living testimony of that. I don’t want Dad to be lost forever into eternity. I want him to find Jesus and become who he was originally created to be before he fell into abuse.
Now, he is asking for Greg…not me. Greg has been talking to him about Jesus in the few times he has visited him. Greg is able to lift himself above his own reasoning’s of why would he go to a man who hurt his wife and daughter so deeply and thoroughly. He struggles with it; actually shudders with disgust when he allows himself to consider what kind of man would commit this kind of act. But the anointing of the Holy Spirit propels him forward to go to this lost man and pray for his redemption. I am sure dad isn’t asking for me because he knows what he did to me and can’t even believe that there is forgiveness waiting. It is too late for a relationship, but not too late to find peace with what is left of his life.
God is not willing that any should perish. Not even my Dad. So, Greg will go.