I always thought that my dad failed me. Then I became a Christian and; decided not to fail him.
God showed me what a good man my dad was; once I was willing to see it.
God asks us to love our brother, our neighbour, and our enemy.
Your dad or mom may have had his or her difficulties but you only hurt yourself by being upset.
What a shame it would be if you were no better in the ability to love.
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My parents' failure was not in raising me, it was in blaming themselves for my actions my own personal challenges and afflictions of my personality.
ReplyDeleteThere's no handbook to parenting, not really, and while my actions were my own, it upset my mother and father so much to see me turning out so poorly in their eyes. They told me over and over that I was better than I was, that I was more than I was, that I could be a good boy... but I was.
They had 4 perfect siblings they raised who were not me. These siblings did not have ADD or ADHD, those siblings didn't struggle with focus and being "normal" and were, from what I could tell, accepted by peers, friends, etc. The only failure was that no one told my parents how to deal with a kid like me, so I missed out. I was not taught about God, I was taught about church, it was a ritual for Sunday mornings and it seemed irrelevant to my life. I was never taught about Jesus' Love, it was a secondary or tertiary task in raising me and it it just never happened. In my eyes, I was a burden on my parents, and I believed I was to blame for the misery, this caused me emotional stress, depression, self hatred... that the world would be better, that people would be happier, without me around. I had every intent on several occasions of killing myself.
One day in 1989 I decided to try, it was the first... but there's a difference between trying to kill yourself and harming yourself as a manner of self-punishment. The first episode was a half-baked attempt, it wouldn't have worked, but it taught me not to do it again. Then I fell back to self-harm... still angry with myself, I went into a tail-spin that split me from my family and left me to fend for myself. I climbed out of my depression, giving up the pills (ant-depressants), and moved forward... Still, I didn't know God. I was further from his path than I knew, but He never gave up on me. Neither had my parents.
My father was always my hero, even when he was asked to punish me, which hurt so much emotionally. He is a kind-hearted man who just wants to do good and help people. He cares, about everyone, and I believe he lives for God,
and to do good by everyone and for his God. I believe he is proud of me now, but wonders even now if he helped me get to where I am today.
He did. I was raised "Christian" then was lost to depression, then Wicca. After starting a family, I found my way back, my self esteem (which remains fleeting) and my faith which took some moments where I looked depression square in the eyes and said "No, that is not my path." I chose God. I chose to believe, to let go, and let God.
Loving everyone is difficult. Some very precious people have been helping me understand that it it possible to them, I have praise and thanks. You are among them.
I endeavour to love everyone, for now my excuse for bad people is that people are people. The reality is that we can't often understand why people are bad. Sometimes one little slip snowballs into something big, and the good person deep inside, just doesn't know how to get back.
"People are people, but God is Love. Give the gift of Love and you are giving the gift of God."