My cousin stopped by yesterday. He was picking up three of my kids to
perform minister music in his church ( he pastors). We touched on the topic of my dad. And we have a conflict of view on that subject: he thinks I did all I could and faithfully ministered to my dad, I think I didn’t and that it might have made a difference in his resistance to Christ if I had done more).
When I first was blogging ‘truegrit’ on upsaid ( which went into the cyber-ether when they folded all their free sites), I wrote alot about these matters with my father. I wrote more about homeschool and being a mom than I do now. I am not sure why the emphasis change over time. Some of it is that I resigned myself to some of the difficulties. When my father died I busied myself with the duties of being in charge of the funeral and as executor of the estate had to catch up on the business world. The grieving process took place with the help of the blogging, but then I put it all away.
As I have increased my church activities again, I have little desire to open cans of worms in topics such as homeschool, the problems with woman-stuff, etc…. and yet I chose the topic of how women fit in the church for my first post over @ Intellectuelle. I suppose I should question what motivated me to do that.
You know, you live through things.. and they teach you something, but you come to understand an audience can be hard to find; and that can be painful. To see how inevitable it can be for certain actions, attitude, etc, to lead to certain outcomes, and to have your voice on that ignored. So you must simply sit by and wait for that time when it is required of you to show compassion and sympathy when the inevitable takes place. That sometimes fills me with sadness.
I keep thinking that I will grow past such things. That feeling of wanting to help, but not being much in a better case myself, ending up with such an overwhelming sense of helplessness in the face of other’s needs. That is one thing that lead me to surrender to Christ. That and wanting to know God…who He was, and be a part of His eternity. I very much wanted to go to heaven when I died. But a big motivation for me is that I saw that only God can resolve peoples deepest needs and issues…or someone on the scale of God. Which leaves…God.
But back to my dad: every once in awhile he will be in a dream and when I wake up I remember: my dad died, he’s not here anymore. The very hard thing about that is that there are things that can never be resolved or explained now. The “finis” was written and the volume is closed. It doesn’t help me to reflect on the fact that so many of those things were closed to resolution and locked behind impenetrable doors of isolation and rejection before death signed the warrant.
It makes me think of how important hope is. Hope looks past the locked doors, resignation sits outside those doors forever. And man does not have forever. There is that point when our part of writing the story is over, and all the blank pages of unresolved relationships will sit blank, and we will wonder about how the story might have been could we have only held hope and moved beyond those doors, those locked diaries within diaries. Hope is the progenitor of faith, and faith has the power to create something new and different. That is why when we say to someone we have “faith” in them, it can be the impetus that moves them beyond their difficulties and doubts. How stingy we can be with that faith.
But the best we can do for others, and maybe for ourselves is to hold out hope. We give up too soon, most times. We give up way too soon.