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Reflections of a Family Visit

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You see, I dread visiting my hometown.  Perhaps obligation to honor my father, stepmother, and family from a biblical standpoint are my motivation at most.  Coming home to the wars waged against this or that family member with some laundry list of new offenses await my arrival.  Caught in the middle of this feud is not a home; it’s a WW4 waiting to erupt again with a different listening ear crossing state lines.  No rest waits for me, but typically new induced wounds I take in silently from a bitter people that leave me running to the state lines.

This time, however, started out differently.  One could trace it back to when I was pregnant with my son and hospitalized for over a month before his birth.  My biological father poured out love on me.  Declared his deep concern (in which I didn’t hear much of in growing up) and was more considerate than I could have ever imagined.  That behavior left my brother and myself scratching our heads wondering what happened to our dad.  This demeanor, 2 years later as I still hold my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop, has continued steadily.

Last week as my little family crossed state lines of a 14 hour drive…I felt an odd euphoric sense of joy that I did not understand.  I wanted to dance.  Shout “victorious”….but I had no explanation as to why.  Typically, I cross those boundaries of that province with apprehension.  Awaiting the next blow.

This year was a 180o turn around.  Not only was my dad friendly, he was physically affectionate…thoughtful…patient…careful with his words…and we barely heard any venom-ness spiteful things about so-and-so-family member.  My step mother followed suit in this same fashion.  Visiting them was actually peaceful and enjoyable.  Tears filled my eyes for the first time when we left, because I was sad to leave.  In my entire life, I can say I’ve never felt this way about my hometown.  Looking forward to my visit next year.

Quickly though my gratitude to this change of venue went to anger as we reached our hotel for the night.  Where was this when I was a child?  Where was this when my mother died and grieved her loss?  Where was this when he remarried and rejected me?  Where was this when I ventured to the Midwest and faced being burnt by two churches?  Where was this as I faced the deepest caverns of depression that had been stuffed down for over 15 years?  Where was this when I married my husband?  Here I am 35, settled, married, stronger than I’ve ever been before, and this peace I longed for my entire life just now enters my life when I don’t need it.  I had stopped hoping it would ever come to be…a father’s love and complete support of his daughter.  God had filled that abysmal void in my heart & soul.

Ironic that anger would be my reaction after finally receiving what that little girl had desired for so many long years ago.  Yet, it occurred to me this is a normal grieving process.  Why wouldn’t I feel this way?  I had been robbed and wrongly treated.  I imagine family members of a long time drug/alcohol addict who had been hurt so many times over the years face the same thing.  While they are grateful and overjoyed at the transformation of MN Teen Challenge graduate; I suspect there is pain that comes to the surface that is un-dealt with.  Things that demand reconciliation.  There would also be a sense of distrust in awaiting for new convert to turn around to the addiction again.  Though one hoped this about-faced had more of a permanent residence.

You aren’t being ungrateful for a change when a turnaround happens… You’re grieving what was stolen and one wants to protect from getting hurt again.  With the given past history, it’s quite understandable anyone would feel this way.  To pretend that it isn’t there is not realistic or being honest with yourself.  To not allow a person to change isn’t fair to them as well.  Yet these conflict of emotions exist and must be walked through with Jesus in sight and His followers.  If you shut down then you hinder God’s move in you.  If you pretend you’re o.k. then you trump God’s transformation in your own heart.  You can’t heal by staying steeped in deep hatred.

There is nothing wrong with this reaction, despite misguided convictions of all anger being evil.  You can’t heal without acknowledging and working through it.  God is close to those who call on Him in truth and if you can’t be honest with yourself…then you will not move forward.

Author: tessagroves

Moving closer to myself everyday.

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