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Man of Sacrifice

Man of Sacrifice

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The other day my husband turned to me and asked, “How is it that every day you get more and more beautiful?” I smiled and replied, “Because I love you so much.”

Awwww. So sweet right? My husband is the best. And I am proud of my comparison to Sarah. That’s me so devoted to my husband and God, that I am blessed with great beauty… a princess.

The next morning I awoke, shaking away a strange dream. My husband and I were on a train, and I was sitting beside him, but pretending to sleep while he chatted with another passenger (my husband is the kind of man who has never known a stranger and seems to have a life goal to talk to every person on earth.) At some point the passenger points to me and makes a comment about my beauty and my husband tells him that I’m his sister.

Weird. I think God is trying to tell me something…  I reflect on the book I’m currently reading “This Crazy Little Thing Called Marriage” by Greg and Erin Smalley, and how at the last group meeting when we were discussing our husbands’ spiritual leadership one of the leaders asked everyone to describe their husband’s character with one word. I chose the word “sacrifice.” It was the first thing that came to mind, as my husband will constantly sacrifice himself, his dreams, his desires, for me, for his children. But after I said it aloud, I internally kicked myself because there were like a hundred “better” words I could have chosen. Or were there?

I know many of you are probably smarter than me and get things right away, but I can be kind of stubborn, so sometimes I have to be told things a hundred times before I listen…

My husband and I are in a spiritual struggle right now, fighting for our family and our children. I tend to get pretty heated over the entire thing, because of my past. Great fear enters my mind for my husband’s children because I constantly picture them going through the struggles that I had while I was living with the consequences of my parents divorce. The thoughts, the actions, the words, the tears–all of it floods my memory. And I ache for their broken hearts. I know I’m not their biological mother, but I want so bad to save them from pain, to take on their pain so they don’t have to feel it. I love them with a love I never thought possible, even though they don’t even know me! And I want to save them from going through the same destructive years I lived in depression, fear, bitterness, and hatred. I want them to know nothing but love and happiness.

We got some bad news concerning the struggle and I was devastated. I tried to hide my tears from my husband. I tried to logically find a way to change our circumstances. But then I just broke down and cried out to God, demanding to know why everything keeps going wrong. Where are your promises?! Where is our victory?!

God replied by pointing out several things to me:

1.) Do YOUR Job.

It seems like I’m forever having this conversation with God:

“Stop trying to do MY job. You’re terrible at it.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“Your Job.”

“Which is what?”

“Wait.”

Sigh. “But I want to DO something!”

“Well, wait for me to finish doing my job and then I’ll tell you what needs to be done next.”

“OK.”

And then I start trying to meddle again because I don’t feel like anything is being done, and it starts all over again.

2.) Remember Your Story

I am often prompted with the question “How did your story end? You’ll have to hear my entire Salvation story another time, but the short version is that I’m alive today because someone interceded for me.  Anytime I question the power of prayer, God seems to bring that up… me being living proof and all.

3.) You’re not as spiritual as you think you are.

I often get a little high horsey, when it comes to the subject. I got saved when I was 8, and had an undeniable salvation story when I was 15. I’ve spent most of my life studying scripture, and have lived a relatively “spotless” life. Sometimes, it seems to intimidate my husband. He heralds me as the “prayer warrior” and lets me do all the praying, talking, leading Bible Study groups, and giving advice. So, I can tend to get so caught up in myself, I forget that my husband is the leader. I mean, looking at my resume, aren’t I the more “qualified” candidate? Um. No. Actually not. My husband has much greater faith than I do. Like Abraham. Abraham, the “Father of Faith.”

4.) You can’t steal HIS story.

I never really thought of it that way… but the logic is solid. It’s like trying to parent your kids by putting them in a plastic bubble. You can’t keep them from every bad thing. Even if you did, they wouldn’t be able to live a fulfilled life. My story comes from my deepest, darkest moments. Those are the moments when God shines through. You can try to keep your children from every type of harm; but doing so will also keep them from their purpose, their destiny. Because God turns pain into purpose. We are driven by our experiences. Without the moments that cause us to call out for God, we live like we have no need of Him. I can’t steal my husband’s story, or my children’s stories; I can only live out my own and allow God to write theirs.

 

So, to sum it up, after three consecutive messages I received it: God thinks my husband is strong like Abraham. I should too. I see the evidence every day. One of the greatest stories of Abraham is his willingness to sacrifice Issac for the Lord. One day my husband’s legacy will be similar–having to be willing to lose his son in order to save him.

It’s important to note that God never expected Abraham to actually sacrifice his son, God was interested in Abraham’s heart. God judges us by our heart, not our actions. God is interested in the why not the what. So, if you’re going to be like Sarah, be the Sarah who grew more beautiful everyday for respecting her husband. Don’t be the Sarah who freaked out when Abraham left to make a sacrifice with her only son, likely traumatizing herself with her thoughts–that ended up being totally off the mark. Trust your God. And trust your husband. Your husband is well-intentioned and acting on his heart. Chances are your husband is scared to death of what he is doing, he just has more faith than you in the final outcome.

For the Fathers Separated from their Children on Father’s Day

For the Fathers Separated from their Children on Father’s Day

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For many years, there was one moment in movies, at weddings, etc. that would inevitably bring me to tears and make me feel like someone had just stabbed me with a knife through the heart:  a father-daughter dance. Every time. Why? Because I was preemptively mourning something I thought I would never have. It hurts so much to watch someone else be happy enjoying something that you long for.

I am not a father (and never will be, courtesy of me being a woman and all), so I cannot directly share your pain of being away from your children on Father’s Day.  However, I do want to share what I encouragement I can offer from the other side. Because I have been a child separated from her father for so much more than just Father’s Day.

My parents divorced when I was a child. Prior to that divorce, I was your typical Daddy’s girl. I was my father’s little princess and he was my hero. The foundation of my life crumbled along with my parent’s marriage. The divorce was ugly, lasted for years, and ultimately ended with my mother moving my siblings and me 1500 miles away from our father and everyone we knew.

Years of geographical separation paired with resentment and bitterness fueled by my devastated mother caused an emotional alienation from my father. I went from being sad, to being mad, to never wanting to see my father again, to referring to him as my “sperm donor” and minimizing his impact on my life. At least I tried. And so I cried. Every time I saw a father-daughter dance.

The thing about parent-child relationships is that you can’t break them. You can’t ignore them. You can’t destroy them. You can’t try to run away and escape them. The blood bond is just too strong. Trust me. I’ve tried. So no matter what happens–whether death, divorce, abuse, alienation–whatever your story is, your child will always love you and want to be with you (even if their words and/or actions say otherwise at the present moment).

As a father, part of your job is to sacrifice for your children. It is unfortunate and unnatural that you have to sacrifice this way, but yet here you are spending [another] Father’s Day without the very child[ren] that qualify you to celebrate this holiday. And you have to bear it. You have to stay strong. You have to maintain a level head and also not resort to anger–against yourself, or your child, or their mother, or whoever you think may be responsible for the current divide. Sometimes it is your job to make the sacrifice. It is not fair. But no one said fatherhood was fair.

So, I’ve been a little depressing but I intend to encourage, I promise. If there is one thing I want to desperately say to you today it is to keep on loving your child[ren]. You are and always will be their Daddy. They love you. Love them. Love them with the unconditional love that parents were always meant to share with their children. And when they are angry and bitter and tell you that they hate you and never want to see you again, love them harder; because they need it all the more. Given your situation, you may have to love them from afar; but do everything you do as though they are watching you (because they probably are, or will be) and are looking for an opportunity to run back to you.

I married a divorcee. My husband has been separated from his children for years. It kills me to see the pain in his eyes, every day; because every day is a one more day they aren’t together. It is a crying shame, but has become a staple of our society (I have heard countless stories) for loving, able fathers to be alienated from their children. Please know that the children hurt, too. Your child may be caught in the middle of a tug-of-war with his/her mother and just trying to survive with the least amount of damage. Your child may have been turned against you by someone they trust and doesn’t know what the truth is anymore. Your child may be an adult who disagreed with you on something and just isn’t ready to admit they were wrong yet. So many stories, but they can all end well with the same approach–Love and open arms.

I want to close with a special photograph. And a thank you to my own father. I spent 15+ years of my life trying to eliminate my father from my life, reveling in resentment and bound by bitterness. I don’t know the extend of the pain I caused him; but I’m well acquainted with how much I have hurt myself. I couldn’t be more grateful or proud of my dad who, when I realized that I wanted and needed him, was waiting for me with open arms. Loving me the same way he did when I was a three year old little princess. After all of the terrible things I have said (and thought and felt) to and about my father, he loves me and continues to sacrifice of himself for me.

I sometimes mourn the lost opportunities for all the memories I could have had with my father over the span of the many years we were emotionally separated. However, I no longer preemptively mourn for things that I think I’ll never had. Life is too short, and suspect for change. Today will not inevitably be your tomorrow.

Enjoy today. Happy Father’s Day, Daddy! Reminisce of all the happy memories you have shared with your child[ren] and look forward to the memories you will create in the future. You will be reunited with your child[ren]. Focus on being ready by continuing to love them through the pain and keeping your arms wide open.

My Father-Daughter Dance

My father-daughter dance–that I thought would never happen–became a reality at my wedding. Thank you, Daddy. I love you!