Authenticity
For the first two weeks after Nate’s death, I would shed a few tears at appropriate times. I would keep myself busy. But now the shock is wearing off. Now the visitors are stopping by less frequently, now begins the process of getting back to the real world that has kept on spinning even while I stepped off it for a minute like a child taking a break from the playground Merry Go Round to keep from getting dizzy. I’ve been told this blog has been raw. Yet in truth I have probably not yet felt the power of that in my numbness and shock. I still can’t believe what happened, it still doesn’t make any sense.
When I started this journal, I was prepared to have some people assume that I was merely putting on a show. I chose to start anyway. I am doing this as a way of encouraging myself. Like David Did at a low point in his life… 1 Samuel 30:6 And David was greatly distressed; …… because the soul of all the people was grieved, every man for his sons and for his daughters: but David encouraged himself (found strength) in the LORD his God.
Yet at the same time I want to be real. In church yesterday I wrote this down in my notebook. “I am broken, but I can be made better, I can be healed.” An aspect of my brokenness surfaced last Thursday. Through a series of events, in what I had hoped would be my morning quiet time, instead of journaling I found myself arguing with my wife, voice raised, less than cordial (That is putting it mildly, doesn’t it sound so nice when I say it that way?)
Today a struggle back and forth, am I writing this for myself or for you. I will choose to write for myself. If I am to experience healing, I need to keep it real, (What do the kids say these days “Keep it 100”?) keep it honest. 1 John 1:8 If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.
Yes, my emotions are raw, but that does not justify my sin, rather it reveals what I can normally keep hidden, the brokenness within me. I asked my oldest son if I am intimidating because of my anger. He said “Yes, sometimes”. That confession cut like a knife. It is not that I am physically abusive, or even verbally, but something in me causes me to display my displeasure on my face or in my attitude.
I sat in church, and I wondered, …. If I was more approachable to my family would my son Nate have come to me. Oh, that hurts, that stings, even now the tears fall from my eyes. I know full well it’s not my fault, but what I wouldn’t give to have my son back!
And I know I can’t go back in time I can’t change to past. So, my prayer is God heal me. God even use this pain to temper me please because I don’t want to stay the same. God make me softer make me more approachable, because I can’t fix myself God you know I have tried! God, I know you can, but am I truly willing to place myself completely in your hands and let you mold me. God give me the strength and resolve to do that. Because truth be told I don’t even know if I am strong enough to submit my self completely to you.
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