Our parents are our first truth. Our first view into what we can count on and what we can't. They start out invincible. Immortal. Tall and strong and perfect.
I struggle in the passenger seat. I look through the dark into the most familiar face in the world. I look out windows and beat back the desire to cut deep with words. My father ...passing on wisdom that I'm sure truely is wise. But my ears no longer want to hear him. No Dad. No. You no longer know.
I think of the nights of bedside stories. Summers of pool play, and car rides singing favorites. Lap sitting and talking. SO much talking. I remember his handkerchief and how good he was with tears. I was so much closer to him than to mom. Kneeling beside my bed teaching me the words I still repeat..."Our Father, who art in heaven..." I remember his guarding. A father's love teaches a daughter to bloom.
The lump still rises. Oh to undo these years that that was broken. The deep fear. The distrust. The bitter battle.
And I know that of course I'm still broken over this. Still crushed by the weight of a family dispersed and sin in the camp.
But FEAR KEEPS LIFE SMALL. and bitterness kills. It has killed. I've seen the carnage in my own life as I took that first step. My idol was knocked down. And so I stepped away from Jehovah. Rather than running to him.
Fear keeps life small. The fear of a life forgotten. Starting over and being forgotten. Swept under the rug, dismissed. Sin in my camp teaching the next generation the same fear that I know.
But my life doesn't have to be small. I might always remember this shadow and in some ways may always live in it. But may it end here. May my life be the last in a family covered by shadows.
Remember, not those things that have changed. Not the emptiness of a house where no man lives. Not the place settings only for two. Not those.
Remember what is the same and always will be. Jesus- the same yesterday, today, and forever. He'll never let go of my hand.
In Him I'll outlive this shadow.
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