Lately I have felt different. I feel like I am wandering through life just to get through it. I am not on fire for the Lord anymore even though I want to be. I have no desire to read the word, I don't get anything out of church services. It's just not the same.
I think that the common denominator or the time frame once when I felt the change has to do with my dad. I can't recall how long ago it was but I had found out that my father was telling people less of the truth of what happened to my sisters and I growing up. I think the reason it affects me so much, Is that it makes me feel unimportant or that The pain that I went through isn't being validated. It hurts me because it makes me feel like he actually has no remorse for what he put us through. So once I heard he was telling people these lies I decided I didn't need to allow him to hurt me anymore. I decided that I didn't owe him anything. I still feel that way but I guess deep down it's eating at me. I don't think it's fair, that he should cause so much pain and I'm still suffering from it.
I have never really understood forgiveness. Well I thought that I had forgiven him a long time ago and let go of all of those things., but I guess I've held onto it. I've held onto the pain, I've held onto terrible memories, I've let it fester in my brain. It's not fair what did I do to deserve this.
I know in the Bible it says that we should forgive others so that God forgive us. I just can't wrap my head around the concept of forgiveness. I mean I could forgive someone if they were sincere about their apology. But if they show no remorse if they belittle your feelings, how? I don't know, it's really difficult for me to understand. I know that they say not forgiving someone does more harm to you than it does them and I believe that I've seen it in my own life. It's not something that I can comprehend. It doesn't make sense for me to forgive someone and have them a lie to people that you love, and then go on allowing them to be a part of your life.
I suppose maybe my father was so high on drugs that he doesn't remember anything that happened when we were children. Not an excuse. We were his children. He was the only father we knew. We were supposed to feel protected and safe but he took that from us and used our trust to manipulate us into his sick twisted plans. That is not the definition of a father. No one should ever take advantage of a child ever. He disgusts me.
Why should I feel guilty for not talking to him, calling him, giving him birthday or Christmas gifts and for ignoring his phone calls. Why do I care. It is not fair that this is tearing me up so much. He doesn't deserve the anger and shouldn't get a rise out of me.
Sadly it is affecting my walk with God. I recently discovered that I didn't feel like I deserve to be loved. That I was not worthy that no one could ever love me and yes that was because of my father. Eventually I was able to see that I was worthy and that there was hope for me for a future and a life, For some reason my lack of forgiveness has me at a stand still when it comes to my walk with the Lord. I can't seem to get past this and don't understand why.
Sometimes I think that writing my father a letter would be healing. I did write them a letter when he was in prison and it was very truthful saying that I was mad at him for what he had done to us and all kinds of things but recently someone told me that he might of not actually got that letter that most of it would've been blacked out by the prison staff. Maybe they had to protect him from committing suicide or something I'm not sure. That really makes me mad, he needed to hear those words. Maybe he didn't need to hear those words but I needed him to. It was all things that I think were valid. So when I think about writing him a letter again I do feel guilty like perhaps maybe if he reads it, he might try to kill himself. Sometimes I think that somebody needs to stop letting him live in this lie.
We can't just pretend it never happened and not talk about it. That's how cycles remain. We have to break the chain.
I'm not sure how I want to end this blog. I'm seriously annoyed and lost. Why can't forgiveness be easy.
Friday, November 27, 2015
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
People are people.
Earlier this week I was asked if I was Metis. This actually brought a smile to my face as I responded with a yes. I have never been told I look Metis before so this surprised me. This man's question gave my morning a lovely start, not because of the topic but because of the conversation that ensued.
This was one of the mornings that I woke up at 4:30am to shower, make breakfast and lunch before hopping on my bus at 6 only to get to Portage and wait 10 minutes to transfer. On this particular morning I approached the bus shelter at a brisk pace eager to get out of the wind.
A habit I have developed over the years is observing people. I often wonder why people do what they do and I put things together as if it were a jigsaw puzzle waiting to be solved. At this bus stop many people stood outside, some looked a but chilled. In my mind I would much rather be in a comfortable bus shelter than having to tighten my scarf every few moments. I could be wrong about my next thought and, I know it sounds like I'm judging these random people waiting for the bus, but I too had contemplated waiting outside as I saw the two people in the shelter.
Yes this makes me sound judgmental and rude but I didn't let that side of me win. I decided that I would enter the shack because they are people too and my fears shouldn't stand in the way of me treating them that way.
Now, let me tell you about the people in the bus shelter. They were; noticeably drunk, loud, laughing, and using big gestures. It's easy to stay in ones comfort zone as to not risk the chance of being bothered with someone else's drama, but who are we trying to kid, we have no control over anything. Who's to say me standing 2 feet on the other side of the glass is actually a safe place.
As I was saying earlier, this interaction became a lovely start to my day. I'm disappointed to say that even though I stepped out of my comfort zone and fought my desire to stay in my alone and "safe" zone, I did not have the courage to strike up a conversation. I was however glad the man who now stood in front of me had. The man proudly told me his full name as I introduced myself. The woman who I learned was his cousin told me stories of their parents and then shared a scary experience she had that morning. Luckily her cousin scared off the potential rapist. It broke my heart to hear she was attacked like that. I don't deal with drunk people very often but as I looked her in the eyes it was if she was sober. I saw her, someone who deserved love. She went on to tell me another happier story from her life. I was annoyed as I saw my bus approaching, I wanted to continue to listen. I told them it was nice chatting with the two of them and she said it was nice meeting.
Even though they were drunk they had a spirit of kindness. I take this as a learning lesson, people are people. We all have hurts. The thing we forget is that we all have love to give. We need to start pouring good into the world, and that means stepping out of our comfort zones.
Join me.
This was one of the mornings that I woke up at 4:30am to shower, make breakfast and lunch before hopping on my bus at 6 only to get to Portage and wait 10 minutes to transfer. On this particular morning I approached the bus shelter at a brisk pace eager to get out of the wind.
A habit I have developed over the years is observing people. I often wonder why people do what they do and I put things together as if it were a jigsaw puzzle waiting to be solved. At this bus stop many people stood outside, some looked a but chilled. In my mind I would much rather be in a comfortable bus shelter than having to tighten my scarf every few moments. I could be wrong about my next thought and, I know it sounds like I'm judging these random people waiting for the bus, but I too had contemplated waiting outside as I saw the two people in the shelter.
Yes this makes me sound judgmental and rude but I didn't let that side of me win. I decided that I would enter the shack because they are people too and my fears shouldn't stand in the way of me treating them that way.
Now, let me tell you about the people in the bus shelter. They were; noticeably drunk, loud, laughing, and using big gestures. It's easy to stay in ones comfort zone as to not risk the chance of being bothered with someone else's drama, but who are we trying to kid, we have no control over anything. Who's to say me standing 2 feet on the other side of the glass is actually a safe place.
As I was saying earlier, this interaction became a lovely start to my day. I'm disappointed to say that even though I stepped out of my comfort zone and fought my desire to stay in my alone and "safe" zone, I did not have the courage to strike up a conversation. I was however glad the man who now stood in front of me had. The man proudly told me his full name as I introduced myself. The woman who I learned was his cousin told me stories of their parents and then shared a scary experience she had that morning. Luckily her cousin scared off the potential rapist. It broke my heart to hear she was attacked like that. I don't deal with drunk people very often but as I looked her in the eyes it was if she was sober. I saw her, someone who deserved love. She went on to tell me another happier story from her life. I was annoyed as I saw my bus approaching, I wanted to continue to listen. I told them it was nice chatting with the two of them and she said it was nice meeting.
Even though they were drunk they had a spirit of kindness. I take this as a learning lesson, people are people. We all have hurts. The thing we forget is that we all have love to give. We need to start pouring good into the world, and that means stepping out of our comfort zones.
Join me.
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