Once again, I'll start things off with a warning. I've stated before that despite my beliefs and upbringing, I try to make this blog relevant and applicable to all, and this day it is not. Today this post will be very personal in nature, and will touch on religious overtones. Read on, though, you might like what I have to say. I refuse to apologize for this, cause the man I dedicate this post to is worth it. I love you, Dad.
Most things in my current life can be summed up in this paragraph. Six months ago, in January, I was laid off. Unlike others I have heard of, I did not panic, mainly because in the weeks previous my father and I had been discussing my future and came to the conclusion that getting laid off would be the best thing possible to happen to me. My father's foresight equipped me with a plan to land on my feet and prosper from this circumstance. Money was going to be tight, but my dad offered to let me move in for a few months so I could save (or in this case reduce spending to break even). While living with them, my dad provided moral support and motivation as I studied to upgrade my computer certifications and he always challenged me to think of new ways I could better myself, and though every suggestion sounded insane, he was never wrong. Now, despite being a computer geek living in my parent's basement, I have 3 different paths to success and a plan to move out within a month.
So it should come as no surprise that when I woke up this Sunday morning, I did what the day is dedicated to, thinking about all the things my father has provided for me, and how grateful I really should be. I like to have a certain egotistical attitude most of the time, but don't get me wrong, I know how pathetic I am. Everyone has that little voice in them telling them where they can improve and how they have screwed up. I know that growing up, I was not the model child, my parent had more then their fair share of parent-teacher meetings. I know I was the subject of more then one heated conversation between my parents. I know that I have often fallen very short of my potential and that my father has stood there in the background upset that I wouldn't live up to what I could be. I know that right now I fit most of the stereotypes of dead end man-child.
I also know what my dad will think when he reads the previous. It will be along the lines of, "Jordan, I am proud of you, you don't have to be perfect or successful, I will love you anyway." It always amazes me, too, just how willing he is to show his love. My father opened his house to me when I was going through a rough spot, it wasn't needed, but his generosity has allowed me to devote more attention to my future and not worry about struggling to survive. When I need to go anywhere in the city for anything of importance my father offers a ride at the drop of a hat, saying he's retired and he has time. When the possibility came up of me moving to a different city to get a job, he started talking about buying a house in the other city and becoming my landlord, provided I was point-of-contact for the other renter. Whenever I have had an issue and gave me distress, he has always had the right advice. Even those few times the advice didn't work, I could see that the underlying principles that were guiding him were always sound.
So when I was thinking all of these things I think it understandable that I felt a little undeserving. I am thankfully wise enough to know that I am not alone in this feeling, and that there are many out there who feel the same, but it's difficult to come up with a way to thank someone who has done so much for you for so little. His place in my life could only be described as one thing; a blessing.
This is when it hits me, and I understand why we call God the "Heavenly Father". What I feel for my dad today is exactly what Christians are called to feel towards God. All of the rhetoric of Christian worthlessness makes sense in this light. It's so hard to reconcile the love that we receive in light of how short we fall of our own potential and expectation. We know that no matter how much we fail, we would still receive this love, and we almost feel obligated to attempt to make ourselves worthy of this gift. As we strive forward to better ourselves, we try to explain ourselves, and it always comes out as 'we feel guilty and unworthy'. The response to this tends to be along the lines of 'accomplishment is not a requirement, I'm proud of you and love you anyway.' The thing that follows sums it all up, I feel it's the core of the call to perfection is simply this; 'Despite the fact the your love for me is unconditional, despite the fact that I get your blessings anyway, I want to better myself as a testimony to you and how wonderful you are. It isn't guilt that drives me, but my love for you that makes me want to become worthy. I love you.'
I love you Dad.
Thanks.
