You can't run from it

So, not really much to do with life here in Zambia, but this post is more about my heart during this time of my life. Some sweet friends bought me this book called Father Fiction- something I probably never would have searched out, let alone picked up and read. It is a book by Donald Miller (author of Blue Like Jazz) and it walks the reader through his life growing up without a father and the implications of it. The book walks through the areas of his life that he notices a difference from other guys who grew up with fathers and what he has seen and learned regarding it. It is from the perspective that boys should learn certain things from their fathers.

Now, I obviously am not a boy. And I did grow up with a father, for most of my childhood at least, but it was a relationship that has left many, many scars and continues to be a painful part of my life. But many of the thoughts he explained completely hit home, many of the situations he outlined are patterns I have seen in my own life. He even goes on to explain how it took him a while to figure out how his actions/thoughts were deeply rooted in and connected to growing up without a father.

Parents, you all have vital roles! At the very end of the book Miller thanks his mom for her part in his life and the amazing woman that she is. I, too, have a completely spectacular mother who has taught me much and continues to live her life as a role model to me. But it doesn't change or diminish the wounds that are in my life as a result of my father and the work that I have to heal them and grow from them. It is funny how the issues and struggles of my life before this trip are still completely valid and real struggles while I'm in Africa. (There's no running away). But I am thankful for some of the downtime I have here to dig in deep with the Lord and give Him maybe more of a chance to heal some of these wounds, or maybe just teach me a little something new. Angie and Vicky, thank you for the book. Thank you for being IN my life. And I seriously recommend this book to anyone who a) wants a good read, b) is trying to heal from wounds of growing up without a father, or even c) has a friend/spouse/someone important who grew up without a father and maybe wants a better understanding of what those wounds can look like.

That's it for now. It's Friday. This weekend is Zambia's independence day celebration - I am excited to see how this country celebrates and I hope to share what I learn soon. Thanks for all your notes and comments!

As I got home after blogging, I realized that I had forgotten the book as I wrote out the post, and I wanted to include a certain quote that seriously challenged me, but also opened up my mind to a new response to my father problem. Near the end of the book Miller talks about forgiveness- now this is a topic I have researched at length and have tried over and over to implement in my life. But something about these words clicked in my head. He writes, "when you forgive, you bear the burden somebody has given you without hold them accountable." And then he says, that "there was still pain, that we might still be paying the price for the wrong that was done to us. It's just that we weren't going to make the other person pay for what they'd done; we'd forgiven them." Okay. I get that. So when people flippantly say that I need to forgive my father, or be at peace with the situation, I now understand, if only a little better, what that may look like on a day-to-day basis. I need to no longer hold him accountable for what he did.

* Side note: as I walked back into the ward to add this note, I noticed a large group of the parents from the ward all sitting together, several had their Bibles out. I asked the night nurse, she said that they meet on their own most nights. As I typed I heard several people sharing Scripture and life stories, I heard them all worship together - and it was beautiful! That may be why several parents and families have shown bonds and friendship one day when the previous day I did not see them interact much. Lord, I am thankful to see a community here, in Africa, at a children's hospital, praising you in spite of and because of their situation. Continue to work in all of our lives and show yourself Lord of Lords!