Thin places

Being a preacher’s wife, I sometimes feel like I always have a sermon brewing in my soul, that should Brad have an emergency…HERE I AM! I’ve got one, had one, or a thousand tangled up in my head and heart for years.

These past 8 months, I’ve really learned about life. Not the sweet, every day stressful life, but the life of hard knocks, of your entire world is about to blow out of the water. Does everyone have a time like that? The time where the pit in your stomach has grown so large that you think you might literally drown if you stepped into any body of water?

Well, on a Friday in January, that’s what happened to me. I was dancing and exercising in the living room with my precious boys (husband included), when I got a phone call from my parents. As soon as I picked up the phone, I knew that this phone call was going to be one of those that changes the day, what I didn’t know was that phone call would change life the way I knew it.

It was my dad, my hero, my confidant throughout most of my life. He was calling to let me know that his business had been closed indefinitely because he was facing charges of embezzling funds and it wasn’t something small. This was going to be serious. The world crumbled right then and there. I didn’t sleep or really eat the rest of the weekend. I quickly gathered as much information as I could. Knowledge is power to me, and I wanted to know every possible scenario and how it could play out. I knew “lawyering up” was going to be necessary and I also knew that my mom was reeling. This had blind-sided her more than anyone.

And where was God in all of this? My dad had never been what I would consider a believer. I think he believes there’s a God, but just like so many in this world, he doesn’t fit the mold of your everyday church-goer. His past is too littered with boulders of sin that have held him back from believing that salvation could be real. In fact, when this happened I realized he had an excuse every Sunday they were here to visit. This broke my heart. My dad was “those people” we talk about. So broken and hurting, needing someone to say, “you’re forgiven” but never hearing it and then trying to find comfort in a less desirable place. God was here, He never left, but for someone who has had to put on the cloak of shame, secrets, and self-loathing, that presence is hardly ever felt. I started feeling God say, “Lisa, if your dad ever needed Me it’s now, and you are my voice.” I started emailing my dad, telling him that God forgives even the biggest sins, and that so do I. He had to know that he did a very wrong thing, but that doesn’t result in you being abandoned by your own family, that’s when a testimony is given a chance to emerge.

During the days that lead up to Dad’s sentencing date, my heart raced every time I thought about the possible outcomes. It was the great unknown, and it felt like an abyss. My parents sold their house, a number of their belongings, and the funeral home. He basically house-arrested himself for the last 6 months leading up to July 9th. So, in my mind, he had paid his dues and forced my mom to pay what was never asked of her. But the scary thought that hung in the air was “does that mean the judge will feel the same way?” And that was the question. The question could that suffocated me right where I sat. I wondered if this was what Jesus felt in the garden of Gethsemane? He knew he was going to go through this time of incredible pain, but he’d never experienced it in human flesh. I am here to tell you that the fear of the unknown consumes your thoughts. It makes the joyful moments sour.

During the last few months I’ve had a running song in my head because I pray every day that it’s true: “Grace, grace, God’s grace. Grace that will pardon and cleanse within. Grace, grace, God’s grace. Grace that is GREATER than ALL our SINS.” And I pray that my dad can be a testament to that. Because for all his misjudgments and sins so great he also: has taken care of parents that had brain tumors and cirrhosis of the liver, raised two strong, God-fearing women. He cuts my son’s pancakes during a morning trip to Huddle House, and would brush our hair when we were little because mom pulled too hard. And he still will hold my mom’s hand as they sit together in the front seat of the car. He gave us a life that he didn’t have growing up.

And I think that last statement is where it all went wrong. It was, somewhat, the love of money that probably perpetuated the embezzlement, but I think more than anything, it was what money provided-a donation to the booster club, buying the football team dinner, treating his family and friends out to dinner.

I feel guilty because I know there are so many things and experiences that I benefitted from that Dad was willing to risk his life, so I could have. I don’t understand why he did it, and I don’t condone the way he went about it, but I don’t think his entire character was faulty. He let this world’s vision of success become his motive and when any of us do that, a hellish power is unleashed that can cripple us to the point of death. Another song rings in my ears too… “All I know is I’m not home yet. This is not where I belong. Take this world and give me Jesus. This is not where I belong.” I don’t think this song is about just living for Heaven. It’s about living LIKE THERE IS A HEAVEN. You can’t live by the world’s standards and expect to feel gratified.

And some of you know the story from this point. Dad is serving a one year sentence in the county jail. It’s hard, because I have to tell my boys that Grandpa isn’t coming to their birthday parties and that he made some really bad decisions. It’s hard because I took pride in the fact that my family was respected in my small hometown. It’s hard because I live in another state and can pretend that everything is fine and don’t have to worry about running into someone with a boisterous opinion, but my mom does. It’s hard because I wonder how my friends’ opinions about me have changed because of all of this. But all of those things are ego-driven.

The real story is that we are surviving. When the paper no longer reports things and people have moved on to the next big thing, we still live in all of this. The few times I have spoken to my Dad, I can hear a bit of resolve in his voice. He knows what the punishment is now and he is willing to suffer the consequences of his actions. The life he knew is no longer there, but neither are the lies and the weight of secrecy. So in a way, joy squeaks through the prison bars. I have also been overwhelmed by the humanity so many have shown to my family. As easy as it is to sling an opinion onto a comment page, sending a card or making a phone call has meant so much. I’ve been amazed how people can see someone as more than their mistakes. It makes me hope that so many others who feel like they cannot be redeemed get that same kind of reassurance. As one of family friends said to me as I was helping pack up our childhood home, “Lisa, we all have a tragedy in our lives. Sometimes everyone knows about it and sometimes we have to go through it all alone, in silence.” That’s what has changed me. I now look at people I meet with more resolve to see past one bad mood, or one mistake. I try to remember for myself, that prayers have been sent up for this situation from places that I cannot even say I’ve been. I still pray every day. I pray for healing to happen in the families that were hurt by all of this, that healing will happen for Dad, and for all of us. I’m going to close with this song that was shared at church while all of this was going on and the weight of the unknown grew heavy. It hit home and I shared it with Dad. I hope that if you are reading this and think you have gotten into something too deep, that there isn’t a hope for you, that you will realize there is so much more to you and to this life than a mistake that turned into a label that is now what is ruining your life.

“Worn”

I'm tired, I'm worn. My Heart is heavy from the work that it takes to keep on breathing.

I've made mistakes, I've let my hope fail, My soul feels crushed by the weight of this world.

And I know that you can give me rest, so I cry out with all that I have left.

Let me see redemption, Let me know the struggle ends,

That you can mend a heart that's frail and torn

I want to know a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life

And all that's dead inside can be reborn

Cause I'm worn

I know I need to lift my eyes up, but I'm too weak, life just won't let up

And I know that you can give me rest, so I cry out with all that I have left

Oh let me see redemption win, let me know the struggle ends,

That you can mend a heart that's frail and torn,

I want to know that a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life and all that's dead can be reborn, cause I'm worn

My prayers are wearing thin

yeah I'm worn

Even before the day begins, I'm worn

I've lost my will to fight, I'm worn

So heaven come and flood my eyes.