Talking with a group of close friends last night. Touched on the word relationship. When I was a teenager, I had a friend that had been sexually abused as a child. In the day, society was not as open as it is now about such things. It is easy to look at and long for the "good ole days", but as I grow older I see that the days were good in part to the fact that I was young and naive. Also due to the realization that personal secrets and tragedies were not easily discussed or out there. There were family "secrets" and most of us were affected in some degree or another by them.
My friend had a problem with the word "Father" in addressing God. You see it was her father that was molesting her and drawing a connecting line between the two authority figures was abhorrent to her. Just recently, I had someone express the idea that the "relationship with God" was just as difficult for them. Relationships are tenuous as well as fraught with a myriad of emotions. Temporary, volatile, insincere - are just a few words they associate with that word. Evidently their experience in "relationships" was less than desirable and this was the last link they wanted to their eternal Being.
Today, my Relationship is supercharged. I am in love with a wonderful God. I can't get enough of being with Him, in Him, or reading about Him. I crave the company of like-minded friends and my fingers fairly fly over the keyboard as I write, discuss, or theolophisize (my word)with you on this page. I am diving in the depths of Him and I do not want to come up for air.
But that is this moment, this hour, this day. I know too well from past experience that this will not last. I will soon be sitting here, reading this blog, lackluster and remorseful. Where did it go? The passion of relationship, the joy of delving into the mystery of Who He is. It was here just a minute ago and I have misplaced it somewhere. I would really like to look for it, but I just don't have time right this minute. I have a new job, my husband, my children, my church are all pulling at me and I tell Him I will be right back. I place a bookmark in our relationship with all the conviction of returning after a brief respite but you know what they say about good intentions. They pretty much pave an entire freeway system with my name on it.
But the passion is still there - buried in the mire of making a living, paying bills, settling conflicts, listening to problems, resolving issues. And thank God that He does not leave me totally responsible for the unearthing. Something on the radio, a word or two from one of you, a squirrel swirling up my oak tree. All these things kick at the soil covering my passion and it still burns. It is under the debris, a few smoldering embers, that can be fanned into scorching flames by His Breath. And for a short while I am in love again.
I read an article some time back that more or less affirmed your friend's situation. People who have had difficult relationships with their father or stepfather have a hard time with God. They tend to leave the church more, tend to have an "atypical" way of understanding "God the Father," etc. I wish I had the citation--it as a well done study with good numbers.
ReplyDeleteI grew up with an alcoholic, abusive stepfather who later adopted me. It was a rather stormy relationship--much arguing, much fear. Yet I bear his last name. Over the years, he and I have more or less made peace, even though we don't talk all that much, but when we do talk, it's okay.
Gee, what a surprise--my conversations with God are often argumentative and painful! It took me a long time, though, to accept God would not beat or abandon me. But I think he accepts I will argue with him a lot!
But some of us have to take a long time to be "in relationship" with God, and for some of us, it can be a little stormy!
Thanks so much for your comment.
ReplyDeleteIsn't it funny how our earthly fathers affect us. Mine was judgemental. He broke his arm when he was a young child and it was never "set" properly. For years he wore long sleeved shirts, covering the deformity (which was not much), working out in the hot cotton fields of East Texas. As such, he had an indwelling of this pain and believed prejudice. I hate to admit it, but I inherited a bit of that critical spirit and it is a constant fight to overcome.
How fine would it be if I could truly "favor" my heavenly Father, inheriting His traits of love, mercy, and compassion. I am trying but sometimes it as hard growing those as it is weeding out the ones my Dad passed on. LOL