God’s Perfect Love

On this past Sunday, Father’s Day, in our church we acknowledged fathers in prayer and acknowledged that our dads aren’t perfect, nor are we.  At this time in my life, I get that, I really get that, because I have made my share of mistakes and bad choices and I pray my children do not hold on to the negative stuff and if need be, have forgiveness. 

As children we all have wished, “I wish so and so’s dad was my dad”, he’s cool or he lets so and so do that.”  Then as teens we have all gone through times of resisting any kind of parenting, much less the all very authoritarian father.  I had my share of all that and much more because my parents came from an era that was very different from the parenting of the 60’s and 70’s.  They were Depression, World War II  older adults and came from the “spare the rod, spoil the child” thought.  Also, my dad had virtually no parenting skills because of his up-bringing.  But, I accepted all of it because that’s what we did back then, and because you just did what your parents told you and that was that.  There were no questions or “under-lying” psychology.

And, then I became a parent and had a job and had all the worries and responsibilities. I soon saw how difficult and stressful my dad’s life was.  My mom didn’t work, she was ill all the time, and although she took care of the house and me, he had a lot on his shoulders.  I didn’t understand why he did certain things or didn’t do certain things, and I questioned (in my mind) why, why, why?  I was always looking at other parents and envying my friends.  Ahh, but little did I know that their parents were going through pretty much the same thing.  Perfection?  Hardly, and sadly, we all seem to expect that from our parents.  At least until we are parents or become our parent’s caregivers.

My dad aged well, but his heart was the weak link to his quality of life.  I began to see his frailty take that wall down around him, revealing the real man, the inner man.  I did not recognize that man.  Where the hard and strict rules of living had been, a relaxed, soft and compassionate man emerged.  Even with the grand kids and great-grand kids.  His inner spirit was revealed to me.  I know this had to be difficult for him.  I was caring for him, and he was supposed to be the strong one, the protector, the provider.  But, I kept opening doors and encouraging opportunities for him to allow that inner sweet soul to come to the surface. And, those last few years were the best years of our relationship.  I think he began to enjoy it as well.

My heart aches for those who cannot move past their parent’s imperfections, if for nothing else but to forgive.  Forgiveness is for our soul within us, not for those to be forgiven. I thank God everyday for me looking in the mirror at my own short-comings and realizing that my parents only did the best they could with what they had. 

Imperfect Perfection

I did not see my dad’s perfection as a child.

I refused to see it as a teen, and there were times

I never wanted to forgive him.

Yet, my glaring imperfections

Revealed to me

My dad’s glorious perfections.

Compassion and a child-like sense of humor.

A soul that was passionate about helping others.

And, above all else,

God’s perfection in us all.

The power of love.

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