My Greatest Desire

April 5, 2019

Day 95: The Forgiveness Diet:
"He forgives all my sins and heals all my disease." —Psalm 103:3

The main point of Anderson's lesson today is that there are times in our lives when we need to focus on our emotional health before we can fix our physical health. He says that we may need to forgive someone or forgive ourselves before we can be restored, and that we should ask God to help us in that endeavor. In the anecdote for today, he shares about a woman named Patsy who was obese and on her way to having a heart attack. She came to Anderson because she couldn't seem to lose weight though she felt that she was doing all she could to do so. Through talking with her, Anderson realized that her problem stemmed from the physical abuse she endured as a child. She and her sister were abused by an uncle who lived with them. It may have been sexual abuse; Anderson is purposefully vague. As treatment, he recommended that she see a psychologist and she agreed. Like many victims, Patsy blamed herself for what happened to her and her sister. Though it took time, she learned to forgive her uncle and herself. Her weight didn't just fall off, but she was on her way to better health, emotionally and physically.

I haven't experienced physical abuse to the extent that Patsy had, but I have been a witness to what I feel was physical abuse at the hand of my biological father. I know there are a few people in my family who would disagree with me on this, but as a young child watching the "discipline" take place, it was abusive. My dad used to beat us with a belt, round robin style, where he'd hold on to one of our hands and swing the belt with his other. The belt hit wherever it wished because my father lacked control over his anger and he was aiming for a moving target. It was horrible to endure and even worse to watch. My oldest brother got the worst of my father's anger. I will never forget a number of scenes. One time I was sobbing uncontrollably while my step-mother was laughing with my little brother (her son) at how funny my brother looked as my father was beating him. It still breaks my heart. My little brother didn't really understand what was going on and he certainly never received such a beating. I don't want to go into all the sordid details that led to that moment of "discipline." Let's just say that kind of beating was completely uncalled for.

The only good I can see coming from such experiences is that I vowed to never discipline my child out of anger, certainly never hit him uncontrollably and with a belt. My child would never fear an object like that. I remember once, when we were kids, we were all sitting out in the yard at a picnic table (all five of us: myself, my two brothers and my two step-brothers) and my dad came out of the house toward us holding his belt in his hands. We all looked at each other, scared out of our wits and wondering who had done what. Who was going to get it next, and we said as much. When my father reached us, he was surprised by the look on our faces and asked what was wrong. We motioned to the belt and he said, "Oh, I was just going to put it on." Yeah, my kid will never feel like that.

I think my biological father has something to do with my vision of God as the big policeman in the sky, ready to give you a smack down for any and every infraction. I try not to let that image rule my perception of God, but sometimes it does, and I have to remind myself that, that is not what God is truly like. It's hard to see God as I wish to see Him when I know He has the potential to be angry and destroy just as much as He has love and is love.  Old testament stories come to mind. My biological father fits the image of Old Testament God fairly well. As I write this, I'm thinking, Old Testament God and New Testament God are still the same God, which I know conceptually to be true, but emotionally I find the God of the New Testament to be more patient, more kind, more loving...more like my step-father, Bob.

Bob showed me that a father can be more than a disciplinarian. Because he spent time with us, taking us camping, rolling old tires down a hill and watching them bounce around, taking us for ice cream, coaching my softball team, creating treasure hunts, surprising us on Christmas, and showering us with love, I learned that there is another side of being a father—a gentler, kinder, more loving side. I imagine it is because of Bob that I am able to also see the gentler, kinder, more loving side of God.

Even though I may continue to struggle with varying images of God, I am willing to do so, especially if it means that I will come to know God for myself. My greatest desire is to know Him and rejoice in the knowledge.