The A, B, C, and D's of Fatherhood

  *I want to add a very quick addendum before you start reading this entry. A friend of mine said that as she read this the music play list below automatically chose the song Finally, by Fergie. She said that as she listened to it the thoughts I shared coincided with the words of the song. I decided to pull up that song myself and re-read the entry and I must say....if I were to choose a theme song for this entry...that would be it....and I even found it very powerful. So you may want to consider scrolling down the page to my play list below, scroll through the songs to number 38 (currently)  and click on the song Finally by Fergie and let it be the background music as you read this entry.
 Well.........here we are again, you, me and this funny thing we call a blog. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss being here, I very much did miss this quirky little internet cavern. There have been quite a few times that I sat here staring at the screen with my fingertips resting on my leopard print keyboard and waiting for the words to come......LONGING for the words to come. However, they just wouldn't. No matter how much I tried to will them out and no matter how much I attempted...the words were silent. I've been creatively writing since I was 5 and in the first grade....that's 30 years that words have been flowing out of my heart and fingers....and only twice in that time have I suffered from what I can genuinely call, "writer's block". The first was a few years after I moved to Connecticut and it lasted for YEARS. The second began just hours after my last post here...and if I succeed in completing this entry, it will have ended today. Sooooooo..........remember how I mentioned that I had a BIG pearl in my life that God was working on? Well....it was during my writer's block that God began to really work on that little treasure, so I suppose I should start now.

Now in case you wonder...I am purposefully skipping the letter A for now and you'll understand why shortly.

B is for my father in law, my Tatu, Michael Babij. Within hours of my last posting he was rushed to ICU and five days later he was gone.
   He had been in a convalescent home recovering from a broken hip for several months. We just knew he would be coming home, he was sharp and tough and a survivor. He had lost his father when he was a young child to an absolutely horrific farming accident and as the oldest child of  nine, he was suddenly thrust into the role of "man of the house" too. Then, before the family had time to finish mourning the loss, their country was thrust into the throes of Holodomor, a Ukrainian holocaust by all accounts. Survival amidst the dying became paramount and the scared young boy went into hiding as a hard working, bread winning young patriarch was born. Of course he forgot what it was like to have affection from a dad or see affection between his parents because his dad was taken too early. It wasn't a problem really until it came time for him to be a husband and father and then the abundance of lack became painfully clear. Quite simply, you cannot give what you don't have....and when you don't know where to draw your knowledge from...the chances of those areas being filled with the wrong things are exceedingly high. For many years Tatu drew his knowledge from the wrong places.
  Of course by the time I came into the picture Tatu had changed significantly from the man he had been and he was a much mellower and engaging person. He wasn't perfect by any stretch, but for nearly ten years he became more of a father to me than my birth father. He would call to talk to me just because he wanted to talk, or he wanted to ask my opinion on something. We shared a common love of old movies and so the three of us (Ben, Tatu and I) would sit for hours discussing them or watching them together. He also had an amazing green thumb and would save me plant cuttings he had started or give me whole plants that he knew I loved and would appreciate since I had a significantly less green thumb. I can't tell you how hard it was for me to give a friend of mine one of his cherished Christmas Cactus plants after he died....I felt like I was betraying him somehow...and it felt like I was giving away a last living part of him that I really didn't want to give away, odd I know, but true. All these things don't seem like much......but when the little girl inside is desperately longing to have a dad love, cherish and dote on her...to listen, actually LISTEN uninterrupted when she speaks and treat her like she has value......it's priceless. That's why, even though I wasn't as outwardly crushed and overwhelmed like I was when Momchu passed, Tatu's passing affected me far deeper than anything I imagined because quite frankly I didn't realize how much I had looked up to him. My adopted (by marriage) dad, the only dad I had really had a real relationship with for ten years of my adult life, was suddenly gone....and with it went my words to write. There just were no words that I wanted to say.

C is for Howard Cunningham, played by Tom Bosley on the popular TV sitcom, Happy Days. He passed away last week and I was so sorry to hear that. Although Mr "C"was a fictionalized comedy sitcom character, he was such a warm representation of paternal guidance and affection to me when I was young.  I used to love watching him relate to his wife, children and their friends as they encountered different issues of life and I remember listening to his advice as if it were coming from my own dad. I couldn't help but wonder if dad's like that really existed out there.....and if they did....what was I doing wrong as a kid to warrant NOT being treated like that by my own dad. Surely it was my fault, my fault for being a daughter instead of a son, my fault for not being smarter or prettier or blah, blah, blah. All those lies that rejected people both young and old hear whispered in their ears and then believe because they've never been told otherwise. If only there were more real life dads like Mr Cunningham.

D is for my own dad.
Can a daughter feel truly loved by her father if the only time she sees him is when he goes off to work or comes home to eat, watch tv and sleep? Does she recognize him as a good provider? Yes. Does she learn to probably adopt the same work ethic, potentially becoming a workaholic herself? Probably. Does she struggle with massive and overwhelming feelings of abandonment and rejection at having an absentee father? ....sadly....very possibly. Finally, does she forget the happy memories that must have been because all she can remember is the times she felt rejected. **sigh** ...usually.
Please don't misunderstand me, I love my dad....I mean I really love him..and long to have a relationship with him.Unfortunately, just like Tatu, he also couldn't give me what he didn't have....if only I could accept that as easily as I did with Tatu.
So here is the big pearl in my life that I referred to in previous posts. My dad.
Do I believe my dad loves me? Yes...even though I sometimes forget that and even though it rarely feels like it. Do I wish he was more like Howard Cunningham...lol, heck yeah. Do I wish he was more like the Tatu I knew....yes, painfully so. My dad's birthday is coming up in just a few days...I haven't sent him a card in years, but this year I decided I'm going to. It's ok if I get no response, and it's ok if our relationship remains stagnant, because this year I won't be doing it in a desperate hope to find my dad's love.....THIS time I'll be doing it because I love my OTHER DADDY....and He wants me to take a step of faith and show the love my heart may not yet feel.

 A is for my other daddy, my Abba. For years I had a really hard time calling God, Daddy. I never called my own dad daddy....it just sounded too babyish to me, and far too affectionate for anything I ever felt in my heart. So the thought of calling God that always sounded immature to me and ridiculous. Although ever since I was a little girl I have felt such a reverence, love and affection for God that far surpassed simply calling Him, GOD....that you would think the term would roll off my tongue quite easily. Well, it didn't....not that I didn't WANT it too...it just wouldn't come off my lips.
Then came time for God to do some intensive work on my "Dad pearl". When we lost Tatu I felt somewhat like an orphan because my emotional dad file was suddenly empty again. Then one by one God began to remind me of the many "dads" He had put in my life to show me the love and affection that my birth dad would have shown me if he were able to. (Now before I go any further, let me say something. I know full well that my birth dad has the physical ABILITY to be a dad for me, but I'm talking about emotional ability here.) Suddenly, over these past several months I have realized that for YEARS I have been overwhelmed with wonderful, Godly men who have loved me unconditionally and poured into my heart and spirit as if they were a dad to me, some of them even though they weren't old enough to even be a dad to me. Men that gave me loving advice and wise council when I needed it, men who just gave me a hug when I needed a "dad" hug. Men like Frank M., Terry B, Sean Q, Ray L, Will M, John R, Bill M and Rich B.....and the list goes on and on.... As I realized that my dad file really WASN'T empty....my heart began to heal and the rejection began to fade. I was finally letting God cover that grain of sand and turn it into a pearl.
Then I began to really open up my heart EVEN MORE to my heavenly dad....areas of my heart that I didn't realize were hurt, were suddenly not hurting anymore and for the first time, quite by accident, that name, Daddy rolled off my tongue one day as I prayed. It shocked me at first and I sat there thinking how much even the thought of using that term made me feel awkward. Then as I sat there processing it I realized there was nothing awkward about it. God really is my daddy. He saved me from an abortion when my mother was pregnant with me, He looked out for me my entire life and continues to do so and He loves me unconditionally. Now it rolls off my tongue without a second thought as I talk to Him in prayer, in fact now it feels odd NOT to call Him Daddy. Interesting how that worked.
**sigh**.........soooooooo all of that to say, I am really back now...back to my blog (although I cannot promise how often my schedule will let me post) and back to life with a new pearl to add to my life strand. Thanks Daddy!!! xoxoxo
So please be encouraged by all of this, because I don't share it to brag to you, I share it to give you hope. If you have a pearl you are struggling with, maybe for years like I have...don't give up hope. Your heavenly daddy is looking out for you, even if it doesn't feel like it and He is going to bring you through to the other side, I can promise you that!

Romans 8:15 (Amplified Bible)

¹⁵For [the Spirit which] you have now received [is] not a spirit of slavery to put you once more in bondage to fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption [the Spirit producing sonship] in [the bliss of] which we cry, Abba (Father)! Father!

Harvesting Pearls

Question: What do you and I, Wayne Elsey and recording artist Melody Gardot have in common?

Answer: Read on and see.

So last Thursday I was standing at my bedside removing my watch and praying about what my next entry here should be. As I got ready to settle in for a night of writing my eyes casually glanced over to a beautiful three strand pearl necklace Ben gave me for Christmas. I stared at them for a moment, thinking ....there was something about those pearls. I picked them up and began sliding my fingers up and down the smooth strands. "What is it about pearls....?" Now, I know how and where pearls come from and how they are made and where they are mentioned in the Bible but I knew there was something deeper, somewhere deeper I was supposed to go with this...so I kept praying.

One of my habits when writing is to collect my thoughts, ideas, photos and tasty tidbits first by throwing them into one massive pile on the page. Then I sort through the page as I sort through my thoughts. It tends to be a bit eclectic like I am....lol. So that night I looked for the perfect picture of a pearl or pearls, next I dug up some facts about how pearls are created. As I read through what I already knew about the process it hit me very distinctly what it was about that pearl necklace that I was supposed to share here at Anthem. By this time however it was pretty late at night and I was tired so I opted to finish the next day.
Interesting how things so simple develop...
The next night, however, I was in the ER. Don't worry, I'll spare you the gross details. Needless to say however, what we thought was food poisoning turned out to be some sort of violent stomach flu (probably caught from one of the beloved sprouts at sprout central) which forced me into 72 hours of bed rest...and shall we say......purging......at home. Something I didn't feel like my busy life could afford, but I am certainly thankful for now....if for no other reason than it opened the door for me to expand what I wanted to share with you about those pearls. Come on...did you really expect me to NOT find the good in it? PFFFTTTT....oh how little you know me. LOL.

So......back to my question.... What do you and I, Wayne Elsey and Melody Gardot have in common?
Well, let's start out by answering who Melody Gardot is. She is a chart topping artist who sings as if her vocal chords are made of velvet. I love jazz and blues and so when I listen to her she makes my eyes close and I wander to a most relaxing place. She also brings out my French heritage...she is American, but her music is reminiscent of everything my Parisian French roots call out for. If you haven't guessed it, I am a fan.
Since I was forced to be home in bed Sunday instead of at church as I usually am I happened to have the television on to keep me and the fuzzboy company as I lay convalescing and I saw CBS' Sunday Morning. A program I have liked since I was a little kid, but rarely ever get to see. Sooo....I'm going to let you read the brief transcript of Anthony Mason's piece with Miss Gardot because it will fill you in far better than I on who this woman is and how she came to be the artist she is today. How Melody Gardot Found Her Voice

 Now I don't know anything about Miss Gardot's personal life other than what I have seen on tv and read, and I don't know what her faith is if she even has any. She may or may not agree with my beliefs...although I would like to think she would, only because it is extremely evident to me that she is a woman who has MUCH to be thankful for. She took a life altering event, something that could have destroyed her...literally, and with much work made it into something beautiful for all to see and share. In short, she overcame.

Now, on to Wayne Elsey whom I also mentioned. Who is he? He's an inspiration...a doer and not just a talker. A man of vision and heart, in my opinion, he's a hero. Not just for deeds he's done, anyone can do a good deed...and any rich man can do MANY good deeds. A hero is defined by the heart of service behind the deed...Mr Elsey knows he has been given much so that he can give much. A servants heart is always heroic, especially when it seeks to always remain humble in it's service. He inspires me beyond words...and he should do the same for you. He is the founder of the massive international charity that is Soles 4 Souls. Someone else my illness this weekend helped me slow down long enough to be reminded of. You may read the brief history of how he started his charity here Soles 4 Souls. As you can see, the life altering events that could have destroyed his own life only propelled him to be the catalyst to take other life altering events that destroyed so many and so much and make something beautiful and life altering for many to share. Another over-comer.
Now by the natural progression of my blog so far you would think my next step is to go to you and I, well...here is where I deviate. Now it's time to jump to that oh so eye opening info I pulled up about pearl farming. Remember what started all of this? That strand of pearls in my hand....I knew there was SOMETHING I was supposed to share about those pearls...and here it is. Yeah yeah, you know, pearls are made when a grain of sand gets into an oyster and blah, blah, blah....second grade science.
Yeah, you're right, but indulge me for a moment. Read this brief little snippet I pasted below from Pearl-Guide.com

The Process Of Nucleation In Pearl Farming


The process of nucleation is a surgical procedure, whereby a foreign object is implanted into the oyster. This object causes irritation, which the oyster counteracts by secreting nacre to surround the object; this produces the pearl.

The Pearl Is Now Allowed To Grow

After nucleating, the oysters are given a few weeks to recover from the surgery. During this time, some of the oysters may reject and expel the implanted nuclei; others may become sick or even die. Most, however, will fully recover. The oysters are then placed in cages or nets and moved into the oyster bed, where they will be tended as the pearls develop. Depending on the type of oyster, this process can require anywhere from a few additional months to several more years!


Finally, The Pearls Are Harvested

Wow....ok, NOW I can move on to the you and I part of this entry.
Everyday, you and I have foreign objects implanted into us for the purpose of causing irritation. Not to make us miserable, but to give us the opportunity to counteract it and create a pearl! We can reject and expel that irritant or become broken, sick and dead in spirit because of it or we can choose the third option and fully recover and create something beautiful out of what once hurt us. It may take weeks, months or years, but if we accept it and let the process take it's course it will develop a pearl.
 I have many pearls in my life that I didn't realize were pearls until this week. I just never thought of them that way, and to be honest sometimes it can be frustrating to try and explain why you're a Pollyanna to someone that only understands Scrooge. I've had people become angry at me and call me names and tell me I live in a fairytale because I am so happy all the time. I've been told I'm not connected to reality because I don't embrace pain and hurt like the psalmists in the Bible did. PFFTT...whatever! I just shake my head because they really don't get it. I'm happy because I CHOOSE to wrap that pain and irritant in the nacre that is my deep seeded faith and let it surround that object to create a pearl. Then when the time is right, I let my God harvest that pearl out of my life. As far as embracing pain and hurt, hmmm...I do embrace it, but in a way that those blinded to it will never be able to understand. Those oysters don't stay spread open for weather and element to disrupt the process and to brag to all the other oysters about "woe is me" how big and horrible their irritant is. Instead they stay closed around that irritant to ensure that the work is completed. I embrace my irritants alright, but not to wallow in the glory of the irritant, but instead to try and keep my focus on the glory of the pearl to be .
It's not just me either, so many others have done and are doing the same. My best friend Beth has had many a foreign object implanted in her life to cause irritants and she has let God harvest a beautiful strand of pearls out of each one. The same goes for my friends Lori, Rae, Erika, Melissa L and my sweet Ben as well as Melody Gardot and Wayne Elsey and most recently the people in Haiti that we are seeing suddenly worshiping and praising God on the beaches and out in the open air among others. We've all had foreign objects implanted into us by the master of all pearl farmers....our choice is are we going to reject them, let them kill us or truly embrace them and let them be harvested into the glorious pearls they were intended to become all along?
Sadly I know many people who have led lives FILLED with objects of irritation and pain and instead of embracing the potential pearl they just lay flopped open like an open oyster whining and complaining about how bad it is or trying to gain bragging rights about how big and horrible THEIR piece of sand is. They have rejected the pearls that could have been because their too busy with the irritant.

I don't know about you, but I would rather die than miss out on any potential pearls because I rejected the irritant. Not that I have it perfected either, I don't, by any stretch of the imagination. There are many irritants that I have to constantly remind myself are just pearls in the making. Those harder ones are just having to take a little longer, but I know that when they are ready they WILL be harvested too. Besides, it's easier to keep that joy when you know that beauty will eventually come of it.
So start harvesting your pearls! Who knows what beautiful creations may be made out of them when all is said and done!

Philippians 1:6 (New Living Translation)

⁶ And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.