Father.

So, I just talked to "Daddy" on the phone. "Daddy" is what I call my biological father. It makes it easier to differentiate between him and my stepdad. It's always good to talk to him...on some level. I miss him when I don't talk to him, so it's good to talk to him. Our conversations always seem to be a little strained. It's almost like when he picks up the phone and realizes it's me, he feels slightly awkward because he wasn't the one to call or because it's been a whole month since we've touched base. Either way, it seems like this totally mechanical telling of news followed by random additions or anecdotes about the news and then some weird pauses before he says something like, "well...we're in the middle of a movie, can I call you in a couple of days...?" To which I usually reply something like, "are you actually gonna call me, or will I have to call you?" Today his response to this question was shocking. "Yes, I PROMISE I'll call you this week." Wow, that's a change. He actually used the word "promise" specifically. Maybe this time it'll be different...Here's the thing though...I've spent my whole life waiting for him to finally realize that he's my dad. All the time. It never changes. I need him. I've always needed him. To be a dad. Not just a random acquaintance whose DNA I possess who I talk to once in a while. You shouldn't have to catch up with your dad. Seriously! It's not like I live far away or have been on a trip for an extended period of time. I'm here. In the same city. 10 minutes away. What the heck?
I had a pretty huge breakdown one night a few months ago where I realized just how truly absent both of my dads have been in my life. It wasn't pretty. I think it was actually the very first time in my life that I actually cried myself to sleep. In the midst of the tears, I wrote "Daddy" a letter. I told him how much I hated the distance between us. I asked him a lot of hard questions like: "why do you always have time for somebody else's kids?" "why does someone else always come before us?" I told him how much it hurt me when he did things like not showing up for my high school graduation or forgetting my birthday for 3 years. I told him that I didn't want stuff. I didn't want money. All of my life I've just wanted a place in his. A real place, not just a visiting a few times a year place. It was a crazy letter. I put it in an envelope and addressed it. I even put a stamp on it. The next day when I woke up, I decided that it wouldn't be productive or beneficial for anyone if I sent it. I'd been angry and broken. So I threw it out. I was good for me to get all of that out. To think back over the past hurts, write them down and get over them. I've noticed since then, though, that it takes a lot more than writing something down to get over it.
Well, here's my solution to the problem. GOD. I know that's a huge over-simplification, but really. That's it. GOD. When I think about everything I know about who God is, I'm amazed that I could ever have failed to notice/remember that God is the perfect father. I don't wanna over-cheese this, so I'll keep it short and sweet. I can freak out, I can kick, I can scream, I can be selfish, proud, unwilling, disobedient, a total jerk, a hypocrite, naive, hateful, whatever really, and God still loves me. This isn't the kind of love that's just gonna stop someday because God's got better things to do with his time. This is the kind of love that will lay (and has laid) down it's life for me. This is the kind of love that totally gets me. That's ok with waiting until I finally figure it out. The kind of love that holds me and cries with me when I'm hurting so much I don't know what to do. The kind of love that understands my deepest desires probably better than I do myself and wants to see me live a full and purposeful life. This is the kind of love that's perfect. Unchanging. Unconditional. It doesn't matter what I do, my God is always going to love me.
The coolest part about all of that is that this is true of every human being. Even my dads. God loves them and understands them and holds them the same way he loves me. And God has called me to love the world around me the way that he loves me. I can't do it. I don't have the capacity to love with that kind of...I can't even think of a word that really captures all of that. But, I can give myself as a vessel to carry that love to the world. God can use me to show himself to the people around me. What a huge, amazing, perfect plan that is! That God CAN use someone like me-fallen, wretched, blind, disillusioned, broken, weak, selfish-WANTS to, even, to reach his world is a beautiful thing. How could I not want to be a part of that? And this is why I live my life the way that I do. Because I want to be used of God.


"I am no longer my own, but thine.
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt;
put me to doing, put me to suffering;
let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,
exalted for thee or brought low for thee;
let me be full, let me be empty;
let me have all things, let me have nothing;
I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure
and disposal"

~Richard Alleine