Recently I have taken it upon myself to do spring cleaning, before spring. Apparently the older you get the more you can accumulate. The struggle is real, especially if your sentimental like me.
As I poured through crammed boxes of cards, letters and occasional loose photos, I stumbled across a picture that made me pause and gaze upon a sad 15 year old face...
that belonged to me.
Memories flooded my mind of our Christmas time 47 years ago that was filled with sadness, uncertainty and fear. It was a secret few people knew, for shame is a master of cover up. If we are not careful prolonged shame can be a master of us.
My mom took the photo of me before a school dance I was invited to. Though she never approved of me going to dances, she still graciously took me to a local shop called the Glass Butterfly so I could pick out a beautiful blue Gunne Sax dress. These dresses were all the rage in the 1970’s and not necessarily cheap. Since my mom did not work outside the home, and my dad had lost his job months before, this was pure sacrificial love on my mom’s behalf, I’m tearing up just thinking about it.
What our family walked through in that season, mom’s gift was the kindest gesture to my broken heart. The warmest hug possible to my harsh reality,a gift from my Jesus through her.
The road leading up to Christmas of 1976 well into 1977 seemed like truth was stranger then fiction. For it was when my dad started acting quite differently. It was little things at first that we tried to explain away, until reality hit us smack dab in the face. We then knew full well moving forward in denial or lack of knowledge about my dads situation was not an option.
That smack of reality came one night when my brother was gone and my dad summoned mom and I in their bedroom to tell us a secret. As we sat on the end of the bed he proceeded to weave a complex story, starting off that his boss was drugging him, (which would explain the strange behavior and look in his eyes, we thought to ourselves.) Not only that, he was also framing him for a ring of theft that affected my fathers employment at the auto parts store. He went on to say all the neighborhood families(which included my best friends parents) were also involved in this web of conspiracy that would land my dad in jail. As these detailed unfolded my mom fainted briefly from dad’s shocking tale, only shortly afterwards having him confess with an eerie smile, that none of it was true. As I headed to my room shutting the door behind me, my heart raced with intense fear, praying it was all just a bad dream. Our new reality was my dad was indeed not well, a couple days after dad’s talk, mom and I went to his work to take him home (just in case they were drugging him in his coffee) Once home we noticed day after day his strange behavior only got worse. If my mom called the doctor, dad would intercept the phone call saying she was sick and immediately hang up. We finally had his parents visit to tell us he was having nervous breakdown to which they suggested Dammasch State Hospital (which is where they filmed the movie One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest in 1975.)
Mom wanted to keep him home as long as she could until she begin fearing for our safety with my dad new disturbing comments. So on Christmas Eve mom decided to take my dad to the Portland Sanitarium. Piling into the car after telling dad we were all going to look at Christmas lights, allowing my brother to drive proved he was not well. It was a painful time admitting him into the mental ward and yet a huge relief for the help and reprieve from the instability of a mental illness. Months down the road my dad improved and was back to his usual self, starting his own business as a wholesale distributor. I thank God for healing my dad, and the gift of a deeper compassion for those who struggling with mental illness.
Glancing once more at that photo of a young girl full of sadness, grief and uncertainty. I see God’s redemption in my life through it all. I cannot thank Him enough for all of His goodness and His enduring promise to all of us.
Emmanuel God with us each an every day.
In all the messes.
In all the miracles.
What a perfect time to pause in this season of wonder and thank God for His divine gift to all mankind, we get the joy to unwrap with gratitude. His ultimate sacrifice bearing our name on the pricelss gift tag. A child born to a weary world, clothed in swaddling of redemption interwoven with vulnerability.
In the hustle and bustle of the holiday season may we take time to pause and rejoice in our dear Savior’s birth, for his healing, freedom and joy. And not just now when the air is mingled with fresh scents of evergreens or the smell of fresh baked sugar cookies dancing around us, but continue to pause and breath in His majesty every single day. We have a reason to praise Him, and to pause in all His Holiness.
I love what King David wrote in Psalms 32:7-8 AMPC
You are a hiding place for me; You, Lord, preserve me from trouble, You surround me with songs and shouts of deliverance. Selah [pause, and calmly think of that]! I [the Lord] will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with My eye upon you.
Selah
Pause and calmly think of that!
And if by chance you are experiencing grief and pain that can cut through the holiday cheer like a knife, as festivities swirl around the heartache, hold tight to the promise...Fear not: for, behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. Luke 2:10-11
God ultimate sacrificial gift will once again put a smile on your face and tear in your eye of complete gratitude for all His goodness towards you. You are profoundly loved.
I am the light of the world.Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life. John 8:12
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