Dear Daddy

I'm a Daddy's girl.

I always have been. I was born that way, and, to this day, this truth remains. Knowing I classify most things that happen on this earth as fact, not truth, because facts change and truth doesn't .... I have written this fact about my character as truth, because it will never change. I'm a Daddy's girl. Don't misunderstand that to mean I don't love my mom, or I love her less than my dad; because, that's not the case. Not even close. There is just something in my heart, something deeper and different for my dad.

The crazy part of this is I remember the exact moment my dad became my hero. We were living in Elkins, West Virginia. I was in second grade, and there was this boy that was bullying me where we lived. My dad happened to be home on the day I came home crying because of it, and, when he learned what was going on, my dad - this grown man, came out of our trailer; and, as the bully rode past on his bicycle, my dad picked up rocks and threw them at the boy's bike. Now ... should he have? No, but he did; and, in that moment, Daddy was my hero. I have never forgotten that moment. I will never forget that moment. In part, because, right then, no matter what happened in life, my dad protected me, stood up for me and made me feel like the safest girl in the world. However, also in part because it's truly the ONLY time in my life I remember my dad standing up for me in unconditional love for no reason other than I was his daughter. The years that followed that moment were filled with ugliness, hopelessness, helplessness and constant disappointment which came to an apex in the summer of 1985.

My parents, i.e. Dad, didn't put much emphasis on going to college after graduating high school. The expectation was to get a job and earn your keep. Regardless of what my desires might have been, this is something I became painfully aware of when my older sister went through the process a couple of years before me. I knew going into my senior year of high school there was no need to worry myself over delusions of going to school anywhere past my high school diploma. So .... here's what I did.

There was an at home study course that was available at that time to learn to become a flight attendant. It was a business college out of Miami, FL, where they sent you the study materials, with tests; and, you went through the course, and then went to the flight school in Miami for three months and went to work! It wasn't college, exactly, but it was a trade with guaranteed work upon completion. I spoke to my parents about it ... got the go ahead ... the deposit was paid ... I was on my way. My part was to make the grades necessary on the course material to go to Miami. Dad's part was to pay the remaining balance to go to Miami. I did my part. Dad didn't. The unbelievable thing is this ...... ALL THE WAY to midnight on the deadline date, I believed he was going to. He didn't.

I woke up the next morning totally defeated, totally broken and heart sick! Although I still love my dad absolutely unconditionally ...... that day changed everything, and was a major, if not THE, determining factor in why the next decade of my life went in the direction it did. So, today I sit, nearly 30 years later, still working through that mess, and here's why it matters:

The Bible tells us that Jesus came to reconcile the world unto God, and to teach us and show that God is our heavenly Father, that we can call on Him as Father. As a matter of truth, His is our Abba Father. Abba in the original Hebrew means Daddy. Well ... to me, growing up anytime someone referred to their dad as "Father"it almost always was in fear or in a smart aleck disrespectful kind of way. And, though I pray to Him as Father, it doesn't have the personal feel Jesus demonstrates it has when He says it. And ... horribly, calling God Daddy ..... causes on onslaught of unwelcomed emotions and images of the man residing in Alabama, and, if there is anything I do NOT want or need God to be, it's the man in Alabama. And, yet, God has shown me that, indeed, this has been the reason for my prayers not being answered, His Word not having any power in my life, His promises and the vision He has given me not manifesting in my life according to His Word. It's not because I lack faith. It's not because I don't believe. It's not because I don't know His Truth. It's not because my confession is wrong, or my heart is in the wrong place or because I'm praying and confessing amiss. It is because, all those years ago, disappointment and heartsickness took up root in my life and planted themselves so deeply that it has taken 29 years to uproot them and weed them out.

The issue was this ..... I believe God. My only struggle in life at this point is ..... I believe God. I believe every Word about Him in the Bible. I believe Him to do what He promised, yet, deep down, I was allowing an out for if He didn't do what He said. Somewhere deep down in my Spirit, I expected my heavenly Father to be just like my dad. So, if nothing happened, I had a life time of experience with Daddy to know how to adjust myself to deal with the disappointment. What I need is for my heavenly Father to be the hero who picks up rocks and protects me from the bullies. What I have been experiencing is the man who spoke exceedingly precious promises and left me heartsick.

I don't know yet how to separate the two, but I will. I pray, and I have asked the Lord to heal my heart and my memories. I have asked the Lord to put His personal Name for me in my mouth. Above, all else, I pray and ask God to be God and to manifest the glory of His Presence in my life. In truth, I need nothing more, and I will accept nothing less.

Steps Along the Way!

Kalena