"(Luke) I am your Father" & "Moving Slow, Healing Deep"

Turn back now...

Danger...self destruction in T-seems like forever

...and counting

A couple of years and some months ago I remember talking to Dustin Wauer over hot tea in a very frigid barn. He was crafting my bookshelf with skillful hands; the long oaken panels have holes in them. He asked if I minded and I became so excited because I've always loved the holey, twisted root grottoes in children books or in my own drawings. When I look at the finished product now, standing at the end of my bed, those memories are easy to recall. There is something about fall, crisp air, the smell of leaves, the bright evening sky, wood burning, chilly fingers etc...aahhh...too cliche?---well, in the words of Kit Delucha: "Who does it ever work out for?/Cinda-F'in-rella!" Smile. Anyway, Dustin said to me, "I think there is a reattachment that is going to occur between your heart and the issues of your father." I agreed and admitted to a sort of apathetic response to his return as dad. I forgave, hugged, but somewhere deeper I had felt a little wince, a little question, "Why does it matter?" That severing of daughter and father did not hurt anymore; I was walking with the Lord, been set free, healed. So really, what was the point? And why, if it had been amputated, had I felt that twinge of something wanting to breathe again, to raise up alive and pumping full of life? Why did that sudden and unexpected twitch feel so much like nausea?

There was a man at Morningstar (around the same time as my conversation with D.) sitting in front of me who turned around and said: "I feel like Malachi 4:5 is applicable for you." I opened my journal to write it down. "He will return the hearts of the fathers to their children and the hearts of the children to their fathers." I thanked him and although I knew it was a word for me, I could not appreciate its legitamacy. Well, where to go from here?--there's a lot of activity up in those neurons. Hmmmm. I guess this is where I should continue on being real. So, I noticed a pattern in my life (noticed it probably six years ago, but didn't know how to rectify it until four years ago...though deep healing has come only recently), one that is more obvious than most but for a long time it was a major access point of shame for me. I suppose it is actually two patterns from the same source. I looked for a father in other people: my middle school band teacher, and my pastor at NRVCC. I even sought Rick's approval for a time. I looked for intimacy in men: uh...maybe I'll save that for another day. So the desire was always there to know my Father. Misplaced but not buried.

As for my earthly faja, this has been a season of family and I can't tell you how many times I've thought to myself, wow my dad is really an amazing (for lack of a better word) man. You were right D., God has been restoring that severed artery and I am slowly feeling the feeling of a rush of blood. It can be unpleasant, uncomfortable but I know it is truly what my heart desires. If there wasn't a little discomfort I'd think God had etherized the situation and I'd wake up not quite sure what had happened. The Great Physician is no WWII experimenter or Frankenstein, "It is alive!." He is skilled with His hands and careful with His children.

Still, I don't think I ever answered my question. Maybe I don't know the answer fully. This is what I can perceive as of now. God is a family man, and He takes delight in disrupting the schemes of the enemy. He takes delight in the restoration of a child's heart to the father because He is a Father. It gives Him hope that His children will return to Him. He knows the blessings that flow as a result and the curses that can equally come. I lost my train of thought...two men working on Heather's house just mentioned they're both getting divorces. Well, one said he is still suffering his after eight years. Father, give me words of life to speak. Better stop procrastinating on studying strongholds. The day is almost half over. May we all hear the Spirit's cry, "Abba!"