My son healed me. I decided that the year my wife was stationed overseas would be the year “I would get to dad,” and redefine what it means to father… not only for my kids, but for me.
But I was several months in and I was having a terrible, horrible, very bad day. The thoughts were overwhelming; I was feeling defeated and depleted. I felt like life was on hold. You know, the type of day when you are behind on everything — goals, purpose, business, and the laundry — and you’re out of patience.
I was having a terrible, horrible, very bad day. It’s the day when you are aware you are being a jerk and you just don’t care anymore. On that day, I didn’t feel like a good father.
I had been doing great and was really proud of the way I had been showing up, but this day in particular was not the same — it was harder for some reason. I went to my home office to do some work, a.k.a. I was retreating.
“If one more kid asks me for something or to do something… I don’t even know.” Then, there was the knock on the door. I said, “what do you want?” in a tone that made it clear I didn’t want to be interrupted, and what you have to say is a disruption. Shame on me.
My normal response is “yes, come on in,” (a very intentional response). So at the door was Remington, my 5 year old. “Hi Papa, I just wanted to say I love you.” He gave me a hug and then walked out the room.
WHAT! My heart caved even as he closed the door behind him. I thought to myself that he loves me even on my worst day. Even after I snapped at him earlier and had an adult temper tantrum.
As I sat there, I felt awe and surprise about what had just happened, and then I heard my heart whisper.
He loves me just because I’m his dad.
It doesn’t matter if or how often I mess up, he loves me anyhow, just because I’m his dad. It’s impossible for him not to love me. It’s impossible for a son to not love his father. A son loves his father just because he is his father.
It hit me that I’ve been judging, withholding, and limiting my love from my own father. The hidden anger I had toward my father for not being around the way I wanted and needed was really love. I was the only one angry because I love him.
It’s impossible for Remington not to to love me, and it’s impossible for me not to love him. Children spell love T.I.M.E., and I associated the time I didn’t have with my father as not being wanted or loved.
After picking myself up off the floor and wiping the tears from my face, I felt my body and heart come into alignment. Decision time. In that moment I chose to believe that my father loves me — and I love my father — simply because he’s my dad, no explanation needed. In that moment I felt my heart expand, and I felt a deeper feeling of wholeness.
I lived my life stuck in the game of he loves me, he loves me not for too long. My son loves me. It’s my desire that one day my father will know in his heart the same. His son loves him.
Although I’ve never heard the words “I love you” from my father, I know he loves me. A few years ago I visited my father and he handed me a photo album. I had forgotten all about it. In the album were all the memories he and I had shared. Many of which I didn’t remember until I looked through the album. He may not have always been there, and just because I have never heard the words I love you, I know he does. I know not with my head, or by measures of logic, but with my heart.
Thank you Remington for loving me at my worst, so that I can become my best. I love you, son!
SO WHY CAN’T I HEAL?
What if the thing that broke you will be the same thing that heals you?
If you’ve been asking yourself “why can’t I heal already,” maybe you are ready to move on from all the hurt… then buckle up baby, because you and I are about to have a conversation. Actually, you are about to have a deeper conversation with yourself because that’s the conversation that matters.
This is where you take a deep breath as the next words you read penetrate and move your soul.
What if you never heal?
What if healing never comes, then what?
“Fidel, why would you say that? The thought of that… I’d be so crushed.”
Hang in there friend, I’m going somewhere with this.
What if there is nothing to heal from?
What if you are already healed, but you just don’t know it?
What if the thought that you need to heal or the thought that you are broken is the reason you can’t?
What if healing is the result of doing the things or living the way you would if you were healed?
You can’t outrun or hide from your pain just like you can’t run and hide from your healing. They are intertwined.
What if your pain is what gives your purpose power, and what if living out that purpose starts your healing?
Don’t wait for your healing to start, start because your healing is waiting on you.
Every time you feel pain, don’t avoid it, feel it and accept it, because it has something to say. Then ask your pain, “Where would you like to start?”
