Greetings to all our TSJ Peeps!
Have you ever listened to someone tell the same story a few times and then have it strike you in an entirely different way than before?
Or have you re- read a book and been surprised about what you had missed before? I feel sure you can say, “Yes.”
Old stories can still teach us new things. And so it is – in re-viewing our old stories (histories) we can potentially see things differently and grow in wisdom.
Mr. John gave me permission to share our experience this week with one of his personal stories . . .
“She Called Her Father!”
Our morning readings of late have been from a devotional book on Proverbs on the theme of parenting (which TSJ people know Solomon calls shepherding).
When one starts to talk about parenting, you all know there are stories and stories and stories! So you can see how we may drift into various aspects of that part of our life’s journey.
John and his first wife shared the blessing of having one child, a girl who by all accounts was the type of child who gave them very little experience in the way of being difficult or even disappointing.
(You might guess that I assure him if he had more children or one of a different temperament, he would have experienced more numerous challenges and disappointments) – of course, along with all of the joys and pride we all experience. But I digress.
Like all of us, he had dreams of how he would want his daughter to be in this world . . . autonomous, confident, courageous, industrious, innovative, learned, happy and fulfilled. And by all accounts from both of them, he was a father that encouraged her, instructed her and modeled those behaviors for her. There was no need for strong, repetitive discipline as she was very sensitive and compliant. She has grown into a lovely woman.
However, there is one story that I have sensed some residual pensiveness about from John… a hint of disappointment perhaps . . . so we talked about that.
Once again he reminisced about the time when she was about 16 or so and went off one summer morning in her jeans and sweatshirt to her job of assembling new bicycles in a local shop.
On her way, her car got a flat tire. She was on a busy street but able to pull off to a parking area.
She knew about cars. Even more complicated aspects than changing a tire. She had been one of two girls of nearly 70 students who had taken an auto technology class. Her mother often managed car repairs too. She definitely had the know-how but she became flummoxed. Can you relate? So you know what she did?
She called her father.
And of course he came. He acknowledges he was certainly not angry but he felt a bit disappointed. He knew that she knew how to change the tire. Besides her classroom training, the two of them did many such things together. And he wanted her to have confidence in her skill. He did not and does not want her to ever feel incompetent where she is competent and he wants her to be free from gender stereotypes as much as possible.
So I listened again. I was already familiar with the story. And for the first time I caught the significance of what his disappointment was. He knew she knew what to do. She had the tools as well as the know-how. And he had hoped he passed on confidence in herself. That experience gave him a taste of his limits as her earthly father. We are often saddened by our parental limits. But she seemed immobilized. And she needed him.
I felt some emotional stirrings within myself. I was touched by his story and his sadness. And by her call. I asked if he minded if I shared how I was experiencing this story. He welcomed it.
Filled with tender feelings for them and an ache for so many others, (obviously myself included) I leaned toward him in my chair and softy reflected. “I hear the story of a good father. She obviously felt overwhelmed for lots of good reasons but .. .I heard myself say tearfully … ‘What a wonderful story. It ends with …. she called her father. And he came.
And as I said that, I felt wistful for all the children of this world that would love to call a father or specifically their father when feeling overwhelmed and scared.
“She called her father!” I repeated softly to him. “She called you.” It so clearly is a tribute to their relationship. It indicates safety. Security. Love.
So you can probably tell where I am going with this. A familiar story. But a new emotion and a new perspective for both of us. HIs review gave each of us a new view. I have whispered those words to myself all week…you can call your Father.
Although many of you can join me in that wistful longing to call an earthly father when the tools and skills you have for handling life’s breakdowns are good but somehow you get overwhelmed or immobilized, and . . . well, you could use a rescue.
Solomon says, “We have a heavenly Father. All of us. Solomon also adds,
“Feeling overwhelmed? Call your Father.
He Will Come to You Wherever You are”
We encourage you to tell your stories and learn from them. May we all believe that our stories are worth telling and the lessons are worth learning..
Solomon and Margie
