Today I looked through a magnifying glass. The thought of worry trickled into my being, I had to call to him. The verdict was: bound to use to public passage railways or wait a few more hours for him to get there. There was a familiar silence on the phone from my end to which he responded: "how keen are you in traveling today?" Immediately the scene where Austen's adaptation comes to life in the scene as Elizabeth and dad are enraptured in conversation.
A silent one...but a conversation nevertheless.
The two just seem to know each other well,words do not need to be expressed, a simple exchange of facial expressions, a glance here or there and the two appear considerably more connected than her father is with his own wife.
Now, my relationship with my own dad has been a close one throughout my childhood however as it is with many girls who hit adolescence; that all changes. I became more attached to my own mother although it was quite evident that we could not find common ground to agree upon in mostly everything!
I wont brag but within much of my adolescence; I spent quite some time reflecting. One of the things I recall pondering on had to do with the fact that I began missing the relationship I once had as a child with my dad. Till one day I decided id get to know my dad more as a person. A smoking hippie, who loved the Beatles, the Monkeys, and all your heart's desires. In many ways, I saw myself as quite similar to him but as with many restraints; not much mending of our once lost relationship could have been restored.
As years passed, the notion would randomly find itself into my brain.When did we become so distant? I realised several things however may not list them all here. One of the few things I discovered in my early adolescence was the fact that my dad had been socialized quite differently to my own mother or contrarily to how I wished I had been socialized myself. When I speak of this process of socialization; I define it as mostly how I was parented. My parents were very much authoritarian parents. Similarly, my dad had been raised in the same way and thus a gap between the emotions and person was created.
To think a hippie- parent was adament or unyielding himself to expressing affections or emotions for much of my life.The many disappointments from him flowed in as the years went on. Yesterday though, I couldnt help but feel a sense of pride because without me having to say anything; he knew my thoughts.Automatically, my concerns, worries, etc. were known and he counted his possibilities and solutions. This traced back semblances of God's character in my life and simply a large part of who He is to all of mankind. Not quite a superhuman, one whom lacks expression of emotions or rather expresses all emotions through silence.
God Himself knows our thoughts, concerns or those worries. He knew the sinful condition we were in because the First fall would happen and he weighed his possibilities. I was once far off,unaware of what I was and who He was and with Him only, the entire building is joined together.With Him alone, can restoration truly take place because I see the need and urgency for me to be like that dwelling place for Him. It is because of the need for Him to become a dwelling place in me; thatI press on with my hippie dad. As distant as he appears for now,in his silence, there is love.
Dig Deeper: Ephesians 2.
In grace,
Kesara.
I am a Father,
so do I shield their eyes?
do I cover their ears?
Hold hands so tight?
Lie about this troubled world?
Do I change the subject?
Avoid at all costs?
Feign a deafness?
Pretend to sleep?
When asked important questions?
Do I huff and gruff?
Go red faced?
Forbid and cage?
Suffocate their growth?
When they decide to love?
I am a Father,
I need to talk.
I need to listen.
I need to answer.
and to let go.
And hope that love is enough.
