When I was a little girl, my grandfather died. I remember waking up one morning and finding my mother laying on the couch, crying. Not the normal place for me to find her upon waking each morning. I was confused and walked into the kitchen, where I found my father sitting at the table. He was in his normal, assigned seat. I don’t know about you all, but in my family we all had our regular place at the table. I always sat between my mother and my brother. I sat across the table from my other two sisters. My big, middle sister and I always had lovely faces for each other at dinner time, usually involving food in our mouths. But that’s a story for another time.
On this particular morning, my dad was alone at the table. In my confusion and worry about my mother, I sat in my big brother’s chair, next to my dad. I didn’t understand what had caused my mother to cry and it scared me. So I sat down next to my dad and asked what was wrong. My dad told me, simply, that my grandfather had died and that my mother was very upset about it. I was old enough to understand death and what that meant and the tears began to flow. Then the sobs began. And what came next shook my very soul.
My father, the man who provided for me and protected me, told me to stop crying and get ready for school. He promptly went back to his breakfast and his newspaper and I was left all alone in my grief. No consolation, no hug. Just the message that my emotion was not acceptable and that comfort would not be forthcoming from him; I was left alone to console myself. I had been rejected. It was the first of many rejections as I was growing up.
I walked out of the kitchen and past my grieving mother. She was alone on that couch and I wanted to hug her, but I didn’t dare to. I was just told that crying wasn’t okay and that crying didn’t warrant comfort. I honestly didn’t know that to do, so I did nothing.
I can look back now and understand that my father simply didn’t know what to do with my emotions that day. They made him very uncomfortable. He had not been equipped to deal with them by his own parents and so when confronted with them by his own children, he did what he had been taught.
I was talking with someone the other day and remarking on how our relationship with our earthly father is often reflected onto our Heavenly Father. And that is just so unfair.
In my particular situation, I had been taught by my earthly father, and had come to believe, that my behavior and emotions dictated whether or not I was acceptable. If I behaved in a way that was comfortable for him, I was acceptable. If my emotions or behavior entered any area that caused discomfort for him, I was rejected. And because my spirit was in great need of expressing emotion, the pain of rejection ran deep. It has skewed every relationship I have ever had; most especially my relationship with God.
And that is what is so unfair; I have assumed that my Heavenly Father would treat me the same way my earthly father did. I have assumed that I would need to behave in a certain way and suppress my emotions in order to be accepted…and loved…by God.
But this is wrong, it is just not true.
God does not reject, He accepts. Therefore, rejection is not of God; acceptance is.
If you have found yourself in a situation like mine, I am here to tell you that you are loved by God. You are acceptable and beautiful to Him. How could you not be? You are His creation, wonderfully and perfectly made by Him. And He loved you more than any human possibly could; He gave His only Son up to death for you.
Your emotion is okay, whether it’s tears, anger or crazy joy. Allow yourself to feel whatever emotion you may have and move through it. It’s not until you move through the emotion that you can get to the other side of it and move beyond it. Cry and release the pain; be angry and then forgive; laugh in your crazy joy, then rest in great peace.
And have a beautiful day, knowing you are loved with the greatest love ever known.
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