“What Can I Pray About For You?”

Yesterday while at church…

a lady (whom I know but am not close to) leaned over after church and asked me, “What can I pray for you about?  You seem to be battling something heavy.”  I was suffering from cramps and really needed to be in bed.  I was dealing with the stresses of my teens… some making unhealthy choices, fearing for the paths that seem so attractive to them.  I was feeling tired of the strength that seems to be required of me.  I was struggling with church and at that moment why I was there.  I was struggling with stuff that I want God to fix and yet haven’t seen the answers I was looking for.  I looked at her, smiled and said, “Oh, I have cramps and really wish for my bed.”

I have been battling with God about feeling so overwhelmed with all my worries and needs.  I haven’t been blogging because the things I want and need to write aren’t really things I can write about right now.  Maybe after I’ve seen my kids through some of the valleys we seem to be in, it will be ok to write after the fact.  Yet not writing is leaving a void in me.  I started to journal again.  Maybe that will help.

Maybe.

My dad called the other day… after talking to my youngest brother, to learn that it was Jordan’s birthday.  He called to wish him.  As the caller id identified my dad, I let the call go to the machine.   It freaked me out that he was calling.  I needed to be able to prepare to talk to him.  After I listened to his message… that began, “Reema, (as he says my name with his still stong accent), this is Daddy…”  I felt such a longing as he said, “Daddy.”  I miss that so much in my life.  Having a daddy.  My relationship with my dad wasn’t all bad.  There were those moments that I have blips of memories of us just being…  maybe I had a 6th sense to appreciate those moments, even back then… because I have these vivid memories of just moments with him that were just so normal.  Going and getting gas.  Or going to the hospital to pick up my mom from work.  Or just driving.  Funny, most of these memories are in the vehicle.

I can only imagine his loneliness.  It truly breaks my heart.  I feel his heart ache of losing his family.  I feel his frustration of wondering how it all became such a mess.  I know he does not think it’s his fault.  Yet I wonder who he blames?  And how can he really forget all the years of letting us down and hurting as in that role of being my dad.

I wonder about his heart.  Is there goodness there?  I think so.  I think there is generousness there too.  I think there is loyality there too.  I think there is that need to be Daddy there too.  And yet, somehow it’s all gotten so mixed up in his head.

Sometimes, when I am on the phone with him, that once or twice a year it happens, as I listen to him chatter about his woes, my heart is racing the whole time I am on the phone with him.  I miss him so much… and yet at the same time, am so glad to not have the endless drama and fear that comes with him actively being in my life.  And yet, there are times, I wish he could just come and visit.  And be normal.

It’s Monday.  Sammy is home sick.  Josh slept on the top bunk for the first time last night.  He was so proud of himself… till he woke up and came to my bed.  I’m looking at the house that is in need of a major tidy after the weekend… even though it seems we were constantly cleaning.  I’m in the midst of playing catch up with the laundry.  And… I feel heavy as I go into this week.  My heart feels so heavy.

Maybe this too shall pass.

Maybe.