All of us have negative things from our childhood
that leaves a mark on us as adults. Some come from parents, other family, peers
or friends. My particular ‘thing’ came from my father.
Growing up, I could never be good enough to please
him; everything I did was either wrong or criticized. When that didn’t have the
desired effect, the ‘authority’ card was pulled out. “As long as you live under my roof, you’ll do as I
say.” Or, “I don’t care what you think.” Or, my favorite, used only once, when I
challenged that authority, “You’re getting brave, aren’t you?'”
I wasn’t rebellious in the traditional sense~I
never did drugs nor alcohol, so there wasn’t any time that he had to get me out
of trouble. I never dated until well past my 19th birthday, so there was no boy
trouble, or anyone calling the house asking for me.
But, a year and a half after graduating high
school, I met someone who was just as eager as I was to get away from his
parents as me. Just before I turned 20, after dating for only seven months, we ran
away to another state to get married.
We did not have all the legal documents we needed
for the marriage to take place, so we came back to his hometown with the intention of
staying with friends, then going back on Monday to try again. What I did not
know-or expect-was my parents to come looking for me.
After a confrontation, and a slap across the
face-his usual reaction to me-my mother stepped between us, and expressed her
concern that if he didn’t at least listen to me, that I was '”of age’, and that
I could leave and they would never see me again. My dad backed off, and I agreed
to go home with them, but them with the full knowledge that I would be getting
married soon.
After we got back, my dad called me
downstairs, and suggested that I go with him to look for a lost beagle he had
named Charlie. The dog was really missing, but he used it as a ploy to talk to
me. In that conversation, I came to understand how I
came to be here. He had dated my mom for about 4 to 5 months, and came to tell
her he was breaking up with her to go back to his former girlfriend. But, she
told him she was pregnant first. He said he knew Edward-my mom’s dad-would kill
him (literally) so he kept quiet. Until then. He told me all that to ask me if I
was pregnant. After reassuring him that I was not, and that there was no chance
of me being, everything seemed to, temporarily, calm down. So I had a church wedding about 3 weeks later, but with no blessing from
my father.
So all the slaps across the face, all the harsh
words, the judgments made in anger, wanting nothing to do with me-it all made
sense. He had to marry my mom, instead of his true love; so he
had resented me all of my life. Even though I was an innocent child, I was the
product of his sin.
It has taken literally over half my life so far to
realize the emotional damage that has been done to me. Always trying to please
him, but never able. Laying awake at night wondering why he hated me, but
‘loved’ my younger sister. Crying myself to sleep at night while praying that
when he went out hunting on those cold autumn nights that he would not come back
home again.
Just last week, I believe I finally put the last
demon to rest resulting from that childhood experience. All of my adult life, I
had carried with me a rebellion against male authority. Only last year did I
realize that, for me, the emotional equation for authority
was that it meant no love. That was a
real eye-opener, and since then, all the emotional issues I has suffered through
over the years made sense.
What I learned~that is, what I was healed
from~last week was the taking of negative comments personally. In the past, I
always felt justified if my pride/ego/feelings were hurt because of someone
else’s words. But God decided to teach me a lesson once and for all. At the end
of that, I realized I was taking ownership of something that did not belong to
me.
If someone spat out hurtful words, I word reach
out and snag them, and apply them to myself, making them mine. Now, I see that
if negative, hurtful words are spoken~even if they are
spoken in my direction, I do not need to claim them. They are not
“automatically” mine. With this realization comes a great sense of
freedom.
I have the freedom to choose whether to claim
words or not. Before I felt compelled to take them no matter what. Now, I am no
longer bound by the words of someone else. No more deep-seated anger; no more
upset seemingly coming from nowhere. The words belong to the person speaking,
and I can choose to take them, and apply them, or I can choose to reject them.
Now I am in a position to say a prayer for the person who speaks negatively,
where before in my taking personally those negative words would cause a reaction
of anger.
God has shown me how to not suffer the sin of my
father: resentment.
