In the first portion of the parable in the scripture, we see a debt collector forgiving the debtor’s financial obligation. This master wanted his money, but he released the servant from this responsibility out of compassion. In that moment, I realized that I could continue to rehearse the trauma or I could release it.
Forgiveness was hard for me because I incorrectly assumed that releasing the negative emotions meant acquiescence to, or agreement with, unacceptable behavior. I questioned if releasing the pain would invalidate it or minimize the severity of the infraction.
Although I had been in a position to be forgiven many times, I was in a state of perpetual judgment with my father. I, the debtor, had become the harsh debt collector. For a long time after this, I measured every word and interaction I had with him through the lens of this pain. The hypocrisy of my position became clear to me after having a conversation with my youngest child as I was driving her to school early one morning.
She told me that she was concerned about how she would respond to her father when seeing him after an extended period of separation. She was anxious because she honestly had no clue how she would react. This one-time daddy’s girl was trying to navigate the warring emotions that were whirling within her heart.
My advice to my child was simple. I told her that her emotions were valid, but she couldn’t be controlled by them. I told her that, ultimately, her goal should be to do what would please God. I encouraged her to acknowledge her emotions and, when the time was right, address them with her father.
This opened my eyes to the fact that sometimes we expect people to provide us with things that they are incapable of giving us. This incapability could stem from being ill-equipped to handle the demand or simply an unwillingness to bear the responsibility. In either case, the need goes unfulfilled. Looking at the situation from only a personal perspective could lead to a fascination with only one part of the story.
Watching my girls deal with their daddy issues forced me to confront my own. I learned that many times the actions of others really don’t have anything to do with you. Regardless of how vile the behavior and the impact that behavior has on your existence, it really has nothing at all to do with you. The behavior is simply a manifestation of their own unresolved issues.
I never really thought about the desperation my father must have felt to even consider concocting the insurance fraud scheme let alone pulling his oldest daughter into it. I never really factored in the traumas he suffered in his own past that led to his style of decision making. It took maturity to understand that we all deal with something. It doesn’t excuse the pathology, but to some degree, it explains it.
Perpetuation or Confrontation
2 Corinthians 10:4-6, NKJV
For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, and being ready to punish all disobedience when your obedience is fulfilled.
Have you ever been overlooked for a promotion? Turned down for a date? Had a credit application denied? Been picked last for the kickball game in gym class? These are the types of rejections that are pretty commonplace and generally don’t send the average person over the edge. They sting, but most people manage to move beyond this type of rejection in a reasonable amount of time.
But what happens when the rejection you’ve experienced taints your very outlook on life? What happens when the trauma you have experienced causes you to implement defense mechanisms that repel pain, but also entraps and isolates you? My dear friend, you are dealing with what is referred to as a “stronghold” in the scripture above.
A stronghold is defined as a fortified place or a place where a particular cause or belief is strongly defended or upheld[2]. Spiritually, this means that my thinking, attitude and actions were entrenched in error and stood in direct opposition to God’s Word. In my case, I had built emotional walls to protect myself.
I grew a hard outer shell as a defense mechanism to experiencing anymore pain, especially relating to my father. The funny thing is, I was in complete denial about it for a really long time. During this process of healing and introspection, I couldn’t get away from the word rejection. I heard it in church during weekly messages. I heard it in conversations with family members and I even found it to be the major theme in movies on television.
As crazy as this may sound, this is one way that I feel God talks to me. When I am confronted with the same issue, again and again, I know it is time to dig a little deeper.
Earlier in the book, I talked about how I felt detached, which is a form of rejection. I grew up in a two-parent family—they just weren’t my biological parents. Children are very observant. It doesn’t generally take them long to figure out that their lives don’t look like the lives of those around them. Although I was loved and cared for, I understood that my uncles and aunts had both their parents, but I didn’t.
Children also crave acceptance. Humans
