Twenty-Four

Twenty-Four

            It had been a great three days with her brother, she hated saying goodbye.  They’d laughed, she’d cried, he teased her mercilessly.  Basically, their typical sibling shenanigans.  There was a comfort knowing they were on the same page when it came to mom stuff.  They had been there for one another through thick and thin, that wasn’t about to change.  “Thank God!” Melissa murmured.

            The burden of having been her mother’s golden child was waning.  There was a lightness of soul at not having to endure the imposed responsibility.  It was her choice to keep from straying back into the mother’s path of familiar guilt trips.  When Melissa felt troubled of spirit, she was learning how to tear off the weight of amiss prayers.  Not always easy but necessary. 

            “We wrestle not only with flesh and blood but principalities and powers rulers of wickedness in heavenly places,” she reminded herself.

            “Well that sounds like a lot of fun,” Sam derided with a smirk.

            “Hey, Doofas!  I didn’t hear you sneak up on me!  All packed?” She asked.

            “Yep, bags by the door.”

            “Should be a nice drive. The forecast calls for sun the whole way to Arlington.”

            “Whoo Hoo!”  He twirled a finger in the air, “Nice drive till I hit I5 through Seattle!  The things I endure for you!”

            “Blleth,” she rasps berried, “you have it so rough!”

            “Yea!  I’m stuck being your brother,” he made a goofy face.

            “Ok you two be nice,” Ed grinned as he placed an arm across Melissa’s shoulders, “Sure glad you came down Sam.  It’s been good for your sister.”

            “Anything for the old girl,” Sam smiled.

            “We’ll try and get up your way soon,” Ed said.

            “Doors always open!” Sam picked up his bag, “Better get going, don’t want to hit rush hour traffic.”

            Melissa hugged her brother, eyes welling up, “Love you Doofas!  Text when you get home so I know you made it.”

            “Thanks for everything Bro,” Sam hugged Ed and headed out the door. 

            Melissa and Ed watched from the doorway as Sam loaded bag in the car. Settled into his seat and backed out the driveway.  She waved and sighed as he pulled away. 

            “I know what you’ll be doing the rest of the day,” Ed said.

            “Really,” Melissa knit her brows, “And what might that be?”

            “Same thing you always do when company leaves.  Tidy and put your house back in order.”  He said with a raised eyebrow.

            Melissa laughed and shook her head, “You know me too well.  I hope that means you plan on staying out of my way.”

            “Better believe it, woman!  I know when I’m not wanted!  If you need me, and I emphasize ‘if’, you can find me in the garage!”

            She pretended to kick him in the butt as he walked off.  Sam’s visit had been good for her soul.  He always made her laugh till her sides hurt.  They used to tell him he could give Robin Williams a run for his money.  The stories Sam would tell about his time in the Navy as a Flight Engineer. He certainly could spin a tall tale.

She stripped the bed, started laundry, cleaned the bathroom and vacuumed floors. Content the house was back in order she made a cup of tea and settled into a comfy chair with her bible and journal.  There were a few things she wanted to debrief with God on. 

Her eyes lit upon notes from Jer. 6:16: Thus, says the Lord, stand by the ways and see and ask for the ancient paths. Where the good way is and walk in it, and you shall find rest for your souls ….

 She reviewed several pages of notes and discovered an ancient path found in the ways of wisdom.  When Naomi asked her if she could remember a primary person who nurtured her, Melissa had been unable to think of anyone.  Naomi defined that as a ‘poverty of nurturing’ and encouraged her to seek nurturing from the mother aspect of God’s nature.  How scandalous was that?!  To try and think of God in the feminine. 

Melissa recalled when she’d walked through inner healing concerning dad trauma.  It had been easy to relate to Jesus not only as savior, but brother and friend.  Then when the time had come to relate to God as Father, she’d balked and wrestled with embracing any Father image in her life.  It was too painful.

Ingrained in her was the image of her own father as distant, aloof, angry, dark and brooding.  Even though she’d been daddy’s little girl as a child that had all changed that fateful night, he’d come home falling down drunk and mistaken her for mom, calling her Betty. Inner healing calmed the ravages of the emotional trauma, it wasn’t an easy process but a freeing one. Regardless, she’d made the choice to do the work; let Jesus heal her soul and embrace God as Father.

The Father wooed her ever so gently and lovingly, He’d made it impossible to resist. Melissa contentedly recalled that memorable day when she’d been looking for Father’s Day cards. Always a challenge to find just the right one for each of the father’s in her life.  Her dad, stepdad, and father-in-law.  When she’d finally settled on cards and started to walk off a question crossed her mind, “Don’t I get one?”  It stopped her dead in her tracks.

A card for Father God! It had never crossed her mind to even consider such a thing. In that moment an overwhelming warmth of loving grace flooded her soul. She turned around and felt inexpressible joy at picking out a card for Abba Father.  She wouldn’t have to censor herself and take into consideration what message fit the man the card was intended for.  She could throw caution to the wind and pick out the sappiest card that expressed what she really, really wanted to be able to say to a true father. 

When she found the most perfect one, she lifted it to the heavens as an expression of love for the magnificent unconditional love Father had lavished on her.  It was a joy unspeakable and full of glory moment, one she’d never forget. Reconciliation with her Dad had been possible because she’d embraced God as Father. This she knew to the very depths of her soul.

            Also, reconciliation wouldn’t have been possible without the blessing of her dad sincerely apologizing for all the bad and crappy stuff he’d done. They had slowly and tentatively developed a new father daughter relationship.  One based not just on love, but actions that spoke louder than words. 

            He’d call on Mondays when Alice was at work. Those conversations always started with a joke that would leave her in stitches. Joke telling was not a gift she’d inherited, fortunately Sam had.  Then they’d discuss current events and discovered a mutual love of history.  He’d tease her about how long it was taking her to get a Bachelor’s degree, called her a professional student.  Looking back, he’d probably been a bigger influence than she realized on her decision to get a B.A. in History. 

            The year he’d been diagnosed with lung cancer, on top of emphysema and COPD, she’d flown out to visit three times.  The last visit a month before he died.  Her dad had started smoking when eleven. Docs said it would cause more stress than good to make him stop after his cancer diagnosis. His solution to cigarette smoke in the apartment; turn on the exhaust fan over the stove and stand next to it.

            Alice, her stepmother, always hated leaving them alone. She had to go to the store one afternoon so they had some rare time, just the two of them. Her Dad stood next to the stove, she sat on a wobbly stool in the kitchen as they chatted.  It was a conversation she’d never forget and be eternally grateful for. Her dad looked so frail just a wisp of the robust man he’d once been.

            “Sis I have to ask you something,” she remembered him asking with a pained look.

            “Sure Dad,” She’d answered. “Ask me anything you want.”

            “Why did you come back?” His furrowed brow deepened with regret and perpetual sorrow.

            She knew what he was asking.  After all the shitty, bad, unforgivable things he’d done.  That as a child she’d been witness and subject too.  After all that why would she want to be there, with him?  She knew that she knew he carried the burden of not being able to forgive himself.  How was it possible for her too?  Without him saying it, she knew that was what he was asking.

            Silently she’d prayed; “God what do I need to say that will sooth his soul?’  In a flash, she had the answer.

            “Because you’re my dad.  I’m your daughter and I love you.” She’d answered in a voice choked with years of pent up emotion.  Tears freely flowed down his deeply lined cheeks.  Her tears mirrored his, a precious moment frozen in time. Tears collected in the heavens because Father’s will be done on earth.

He’d responded from a place of abject brokenness; “I love you too sis.”

            Years of hopeless condemnation melted away in the presence of the Father’s love. They had been given a gift in that moment of time and it had not been squandered.  It was an eternal moment, a sliver of a glimpse of God’s holy mercy.  Melissa’s heart melted in the remembering.  There were years such a moment would never have been possible.  Thankfully with Father God’s favor and blessing the seeming impossible had become reality. 

            It was a very cherished memory.  She liked to imagine her dad in charge of that section of eternities library which told her story.  What had been stolen from him on earth was restored in the heavens. He was getting to know his daughter as the Father knew her. At their glorious reunion she looked forward to the telling of his story as well.  It renewed her soul to remember with wonder that which had been lost was forever found.