A Christmas Letter to My Father
I hate that I am writing this -- I've been fighting it for a long time. But one day everything will be brought to the light, and it's too dangerous for me to keep silent, keep these emotions locked in the house of my heart. I am getting older, and this woman doesn't need to feel like a little girl. Even though I do, every time I think of you.
and I suppose it's easier and better this way, I know it is because I can rationalize and understand the circumstances as a woman, not a girl, but in that same breath it's that much harder because there is no going back. and the feelings that I wish I could own I can't. Because you can't give them to me.
Why did you leave? —and I'm not talking about now (because that's how I feel, if there was ANY way for someone to leave someone else without even having met them, a large congratulations because you seem to have accomplished the impossible) — I am talking about the first time you ran ... the first time you turned your back on something so fragile, so un-beautiful, so painful, hurting, angry, that you couldn't handle. And when was the second time because it seemed to make sense, or seemed to be easier than living with yourself? You see we can fool ourselves for awhile, but the big catch with running is you can never, ever LEAVE yourself ... so you run with the ball and chain and again and again, the more you run from, the more they attach themselves, their essences to your feet, so you can't move, your arms so you can't raise them high, your eyelids, so you can't see. And soon you are stumbling, trudging, blind, with the misconception that you are still free, still fooling the jokers, when the whole time they are laughing and you are drowning in the brokenness that you've created.
So, that's how I see you. A broken-down, running man. A man that couldn't give me anything even if he wanted to—because I believe that you do. And I know that you have tried in your way, but I think you emotionally lack the ability to deal with yourself, and the mess you have in your heart to even begin to open to others, let alone me.
You see, I also think that we can only give away what we have. And true, sometimes we have to make the time, make the effort to do so. But when it comes to emotions, when it comes to the matters of the heart, if we are not being filled, not taking the time to honor ourselves with quiet, understanding, healing, we have nothing to give. So we only give what we have. And what you have seems to be hurt. A whole lot of it.
So you give it. You give it by being absent, painting the picture and then running away with it. You give it by reaching out, then pulling back. You give it by being everything I ever wanted and then stealing it back before I could run into it's arms and finally have peace. Finally have the dance that I dreamed of. To be able to show my dad what I have done. How I am so much like him. How I followed after his ghostly footprints without even knowing his name. It's a miracle, all the same.
I want you to know that this is NOT going to define me. It's going to shape me, but it's not going to break me. Because I am stronger than that. I am stronger than your empty promises and I am stronger than that little girl who wants so much to just have a dad.
Because I don't.
My whole life was spent "the girl without the dad". And I'm going to remain that way.
I have a father instead. A Heavenly Father, who loves me, and who calls me His Daughter. He calls me by name. He knows every inch of my heart and loves me all the same. He knit me together and made me His own. And He is Jealous for me. So much so that He gave me this hole so I could know Him more.
And every time I sit at the edge of the world, with my feet in the sand and the Pacific wind touching my face, looking out at almost endless churning water, I run into His arms. And He never lets go. He never runs away. He's here to stay.
I don't have to meet you, because every time I look in the mirror I see your shape in my face. And, I don't have to wonder if I'll ever see HIS face, because one day, I will. And it will be the most precious gift ever.
So, for now, I will pray for you. Because I still will always love you. And I'm so sorry that you are hurting so much. But I forgive you, and I love you. And I hope that one day you too will find healing in the Father's Arms, but no one can go there for you, you need to go yourself. I pray that you don't run away from the one thing that can give you peace. It's not a person, not a thing, not a guitar or a song. It's the peace that surpasses all understanding. The Peace that He brings. A peace that we celebrate at Christmas time. A peace that I need to remember, always.
So, if you cannot meet me, I pray that you will meet Him. Jesus. Who loves you and would never let you go.
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PS ~ I am writing a whole album of songs about you and this journey, I doubt you will listen but someone else needs to hear them, including me, thank you for the inspiration.
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