My Dad & Forgiveness, A Reflection

This entry is not going to be a typical one; this is the first time I have chosen to write about my faith on this blog. I am at school, trying not to tear up, so a hardcore revision of this text would be really hard. I’ve given it a once over, but I don’t want to keep pouring over it. Sorry if it’s illegible.

Today started out like a normal Monday, but I was exhausted when my 8:30am alarm went off. Little did I know, by then, my dad was in an ambulance 2000 miles away.

I had stayed at a friend’s house over the weekend. There, I’d slept on a “mattress” that was just a wooden board with two mattress toppers on it. The house was hot, and I could not sleep. So, once I got to my place, I went to bed immediately, and I slept like a baby. I had an odd dream (a nightmare?) that I barely remember. It was something about a tornado. I remember flying through the air, being whisked about, and it was terrifying.

I snoozed for over an hour. The nightmare and lingering fatigue from a weekend of poor sleep made getting up feel like a Herculean task. I decided to skip my 11am and spend a little more time in bed. I could have made it on time, but decided to treat myself to an extra hour and a half to sip my coffee and study. My attendance this semester has been great thus far, so I wasn’t worried about my grades tanking or anything. If I hadn’t, I would have been in class when I got the phone call.

I finally began walking to my 12pm class. I remember what song was playing when I got the call. I remember what house I was standing in front of, what side of the street I was on, how the weather felt, and the exact tree I grabbed onto for stability once I got the news and my legs turned to Jell-O. I guess it’s not that impressive that I remember something that happened just a few hours ago, but I already feel like I won’t forget it. I don’t think I could if I tried.

I grabbed onto the aforementioned tree before I got the news, actually; I answered the phone in a chipper tone but my mom only responded with a flat “Hi.” My mom and I are close, so I can tell when she’s extremely upset. My first thought was that someone must have died.

Fortunately, that didn’t happen, but she told me that my dad had a seizure that morning. It lasted over 5 minutes. He has a 5cm growth on his brain, which is enormous. It is on his frontal lobe. She told me how she’d found him, how scary it was. I started crying so much that I had to mute myself while listening.

At the time, we were still waiting to find out whether it was cancerous (it is not!) and I’d never been so scared in my entire life.

I have begun to wonder how long the tumor has been growing. My dad and I butt heads a lot, and he has anger issues. We got into a serious fight a few months ago, one that was so bad, I seriously considered cutting him off. Over Christmas, we had a few spats, which, in retrospect, seemed a lot worse than others we’ve had in the past. I’m unsure if that was the tumor at its worst, making him more aggressive than normal; for a tumor the size of his, in the frontal lobe, it is almost 100% likely that it has caused aggression or personality changes.

I don’t necessarily feel guilty for feeling resentment towards him, because there is no way I could have known it was the fault of a tumor. I think I felt a natural reaction to his behavior. He’s not keen on apologizing, either, so it was extra hard to not feel angry at him.

After doing some research, it seems like most benign tumors of this type grow very slowly, and, assuming this tumor grew at an average rate, it could have been there for decades. It most likely began growing before I was alive.

I am certain that one of my spiritual gifts is the way I forgive others. My dad, however, is the exception. I hold a lot of resentment towards him. I can bite my tongue or choose not to let my feelings get hurt, but, when it comes to him, I can do neither. During my childhood, he and my mother had a tumultuous relationship, splitting up four times but ultimately ending up together in the end. I internalized some of the behaviors and attitudes he exhibited then, and it took years of therapy to unlearn and quit applying these to my personal relationships. He’s said so many things to me in the past that have hurt my feelings; I feel like his remarks hurt more than anything that anybody else could ever say to me. Even when I was young, he would say insulting things about my interests, music taste, and personal style. Today, I still feel insecure about letting my personality shine.

I wonder how many of these behaviors came from his heart. Is my father truly an angry person? I think it’s easier to imagine that it was the tumor all along. I want to believe that my father is the man who shaped my sense of humor and introduced me to rock music. I hope that my father is the man who sent me to college and proudly watches me pursue my dreams, even though he never had the chance to. I hope that my father is truly the man who clawed his way out of poverty for the sake of my mother and I. It would be lovely if I could chalk up all of the snide remarks and toxic dynamics to the growth in his brain.

When I was in high school, I attended church with a friend. Her youth pastor gave a moving sermon on forgiveness. At the time, I was in the midst of a fight with someone. I had some hard conversations with God. I told Him that I didn’t plan on forgiving them at all. I felt like it was impossible.

I have pasted my notes from that day below. If you’re interested, I’d recommend reading them– not just because I think they are insightful, but I will reflect on them:

Sermon notes here:

Natural human instinct is to not forgive.
To not forgive someone is to refuse to let them/bitterness/evil win.

To forgive someone is to let Jesus win.

Matthew 6:14-15 - Forgive others, and God will forgive you.

This is a COMMAND.

Grace is undeserved. We don’t deserve God’s forgiveness; it is a gift we have received. Who am I to play God and decide who is worthy of forgiveness, if I am not?
But…

Does forgiveness mean you have to forget?

Isaiah 53:5-6 - Jesus was punished for OUR sins, and yet, WE have strayed from Him. It was our fault that He was on the cross. He endured all that pain and shame, yet He forgives us.

By forgiving, am I condoning the actions of others?

Forgiveness is trusting God to be the ultimate and perfect judge.
Psalm 50:6 - God is the judge forever.
We do not have to carry the weight of judging others’ sins. Leave that to God, the perfect judge.

Does forgiveness mean I have to make myself a doormat?

Offering forgiveness frees you from carrying bitterness and hatred.
1 Corinthians 16:13 - Be strong in your faith (*and forgiveness)

Does forgiveness mean I have to become friends with that person again?

People change. You can love them from a distance.
Don’t be evil, be mindful. Sometimes it is graceful to remove yourself from a circumstance.

Does forgiveness have to come from an apology?

Forgiveness doesn’t come from someone else’s word. It comes from Christ.
Ephesians 4:32 - Forgive because you were forgiven.
Hebrews 12:15 - Those of the world base forgiveness on what the offender has done. Christlike forgiveness is based on what God has done; God forgives all sin.

Forgiveness is not easy.

True.

Forgiveness is impossible. By that, I mean perfect forgiveness cannot be achieved without God. As stated before, our human nature prevents us from forgiving. It is not natural.

But: we can do anything through Christ!
Romans 5:8

Once we have experienced God’s forgiveness, we have the power to forgive others.

This sermon was preached to me almost five years ago, yet I think about it often.

Today, I find myself reflecting on it, thinking of my dad. I don’t want to carry bitterness for him anymore. It’s exhausting.

I don’t know how the tumor has affected my relationship with him, if at all. I don’t want to deprive myself of the chance to learn whether we can have a normal father-daughter dynamic. So, I choose to forgive him, and I choose to allow God to give me the strength to do so. Without Him, I don’t think I could.

I thank Him that the seizure happened while he was in bed, and not while he was driving or at work, so that he didn’t hurt himself. I am thankful that the paramedics could rush over and get him help right away. I am thankful he doesn’t have cancer. I am grateful that I have not lost him, and, chances are, I won’t lose him for some time. I am grateful I have the opportunity to forgive him and start over, in a sense. Today, I pray for the Lord to mend our relationship, and I thank Him for the strength to keep moving forward.