Unanswered Prayer.
This one is a little personal for me to write. I'm hesitant to share for a couple of reasons. First, I don't want sympathy. I don't want people to think "ohhh, that poor girl." I am not scarred. I did not have a troubled childhood, by any stretch. I am not harboring hate or anger. But most of all, I don't want this to come across as a bashing session, or accusatory, or hateful in any way. So here it is.
I grew up in a home with an alcoholic dad.
From a very young age I had a good understanding of what alcohol was. Simply because I was taught from the time I could walk that I am not to touch dad's drink. There were kid drinks and there were adult drinks. My dad always, ALWAYS had an adult drink. I mean, in the morning before work he was mixing his Bacardi and Diet Pepsi. When I say he was never without an adult drink, I mean never. This was my normal. When I was young, I didn't know that it was a problem.
Again I want to stress that I do not consider myself to have had a troubled childhood. I had grandparents and an aunt and uncle living within 3-4 miles of me my entire childhood. I stayed at my grandparents' house most weekends, and I guess a lot of weeknights too. They made sure that I had and did all of the things I wanted. That I maintained as normal of a childhood as possible. Though I didn't understand at the time that's what they were doing. My uncle was the one I called when my car broke down (ok, maybe I mean to say when I ran out of gas) or when I needed new brakes on my car. He took on a fatherly role in my life. I was raised with my little brother and my two cousins who are more like siblings to me than cousins. My mom was the dad too, and she was darn good at making sure we didn't feel like we missed out on having two involved parents. I was a happy kid. This was my normal.
I vividly remember when I was in 6th grade, our family doctor told my dad that his liver is in such bad shape that if he didn't stop drinking, like today, that he had about 5 years left to live. He made the decision to go into an inpatient rehab. By this time I understood that it was not normal for anyone to drink from the time they woke up until the time they went to bed. It was not ok for someone to have adult drinks while driving us on a family trip to Tennessee. It was not normal for someone to not be able to function if they hadn't had a drink. So he went into what I believe should have been a 45 day program. I remember going to Al-Anon meetings and listening to these awful stories people told about their loved ones' addictions. I remember thinking 'my dad isn't THAT bad.' I mean, he was never abusive. He was just never present.
An addiction counselor thought it was a good idea for me to go to one of his counseling sessions. He was in full withdrawals at this point, shaking, and sweating, sitting with a garbage can at his feet in case he needed to vomit. She made me sit in front of him, knee to knee, look him in the eye and tell him what his alcoholism had done to me. For the record, if you're in a situation like this and a therapist recommends that your child do this, please give it a lot of thought and prayer. This moment was the most traumatic moment I can remember about my dad's addiction. This may be the most traumatic event of my entire childhood, now that I'm thinking about it. Watching him suffer like that, and on top of his suffering I was supposed to tell him how he's ruined my childhood??? Hand to God, in that moment if I'd had access to alcohol I would have given it to him just to ease his suffering. So I told him the only things I could think of about how his addiction had affected me. I told him that I wanted to have friends spend the night, but couldn't because he didn't want company. And that I wished he would come to my choir concerts, or football games to watch me cheer, and church, and family Christmas. I didn't have any horrifying stories to tell about how scarred I was.
I'm now 38 years old. He is still alive. He is still drinking. He checked himself out of that rehab within a few days and stopped on the way home to get a drink. There were a couple more attempts at rehab through my life, but they all ended the same way.
We are talking about a man who was a hard worker. He has a musical gift straight from God. He is so talented. He is a good man, to his core. He loved my mom, my brother and I. I know that as well as I know my own name. He just couldn't fight this battle. He still can't fight this battle.
This is my unanswered prayer. This is a man that I've been praying for for as long as I can remember. I have prayed those bold, confident prayers, believing in a miracle for him. It hasn't come yet. He has been in two near-fatal car accidents. Both caused by his drunk-driving. I have to believe that there is a reason he is still alive when by all medical accounts (not including the car accidents) he should have died of liver failure over 20 years ago. I have to believe that there's a plan. I just don't know it. I don't understand it. Why after all of my prayers, all of my family's prayers, the prayers of all the people who love him, prayers of faithful and devout Christians over the last 40+ years, has God not intervened?
Maybe you're struggling with this too. Maybe God didn't answer your prayer for a loved one to beat Cancer. Maybe your faithful prayers for God to spare your child, or your parent or sibling weren't answered. Maybe you're wondering why He hasn't healed your marriage, or answered your prayers for financial success. Maybe you've given up completely on praying because what's the point? He didn't answer the last one. Or he hasn't answered this one yet.
I wish I could tell you I have specific answers to these questions. I wish I had an answer to my own question of why. Instead, can I just offer this encouraging thought? God. Is. In. Complete. Control. Always. His ways are not our ways. I don't know if the answer to my prayers is a "No" or a "Not yet." I don't know if your "No" was a "No, because I have something way better for you." Maybe it had nothing to do with you at all, but your suffering was a lesson for someone else. Maybe your story caused someone else to turn to God? We can't see the big picture. We can't see all the puzzle pieces and how he's fitting them all together. We only see our part of the puzzle. But we can be confident that He sees it all. God did not cause your suffering just for the sake of making you suffer. He loves us way too much for that.
Romans 5:2a-5 And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.
So as difficult as it is, try to rejoice in your sufferings knowing that good is coming out of it. Somehow. Somewhere. For someone. Does it seem fair that He uses us to benefit others? Not necessarily. But if you stay faithful during your suffering, and patient during your 'not yet' I believe you will be blessed for it.
I grew up in a home with an alcoholic dad.
From a very young age I had a good understanding of what alcohol was. Simply because I was taught from the time I could walk that I am not to touch dad's drink. There were kid drinks and there were adult drinks. My dad always, ALWAYS had an adult drink. I mean, in the morning before work he was mixing his Bacardi and Diet Pepsi. When I say he was never without an adult drink, I mean never. This was my normal. When I was young, I didn't know that it was a problem.
Again I want to stress that I do not consider myself to have had a troubled childhood. I had grandparents and an aunt and uncle living within 3-4 miles of me my entire childhood. I stayed at my grandparents' house most weekends, and I guess a lot of weeknights too. They made sure that I had and did all of the things I wanted. That I maintained as normal of a childhood as possible. Though I didn't understand at the time that's what they were doing. My uncle was the one I called when my car broke down (ok, maybe I mean to say when I ran out of gas) or when I needed new brakes on my car. He took on a fatherly role in my life. I was raised with my little brother and my two cousins who are more like siblings to me than cousins. My mom was the dad too, and she was darn good at making sure we didn't feel like we missed out on having two involved parents. I was a happy kid. This was my normal.
I vividly remember when I was in 6th grade, our family doctor told my dad that his liver is in such bad shape that if he didn't stop drinking, like today, that he had about 5 years left to live. He made the decision to go into an inpatient rehab. By this time I understood that it was not normal for anyone to drink from the time they woke up until the time they went to bed. It was not ok for someone to have adult drinks while driving us on a family trip to Tennessee. It was not normal for someone to not be able to function if they hadn't had a drink. So he went into what I believe should have been a 45 day program. I remember going to Al-Anon meetings and listening to these awful stories people told about their loved ones' addictions. I remember thinking 'my dad isn't THAT bad.' I mean, he was never abusive. He was just never present.
An addiction counselor thought it was a good idea for me to go to one of his counseling sessions. He was in full withdrawals at this point, shaking, and sweating, sitting with a garbage can at his feet in case he needed to vomit. She made me sit in front of him, knee to knee, look him in the eye and tell him what his alcoholism had done to me. For the record, if you're in a situation like this and a therapist recommends that your child do this, please give it a lot of thought and prayer. This moment was the most traumatic moment I can remember about my dad's addiction. This may be the most traumatic event of my entire childhood, now that I'm thinking about it. Watching him suffer like that, and on top of his suffering I was supposed to tell him how he's ruined my childhood??? Hand to God, in that moment if I'd had access to alcohol I would have given it to him just to ease his suffering. So I told him the only things I could think of about how his addiction had affected me. I told him that I wanted to have friends spend the night, but couldn't because he didn't want company. And that I wished he would come to my choir concerts, or football games to watch me cheer, and church, and family Christmas. I didn't have any horrifying stories to tell about how scarred I was.
I'm now 38 years old. He is still alive. He is still drinking. He checked himself out of that rehab within a few days and stopped on the way home to get a drink. There were a couple more attempts at rehab through my life, but they all ended the same way.
We are talking about a man who was a hard worker. He has a musical gift straight from God. He is so talented. He is a good man, to his core. He loved my mom, my brother and I. I know that as well as I know my own name. He just couldn't fight this battle. He still can't fight this battle.
This is my unanswered prayer. This is a man that I've been praying for for as long as I can remember. I have prayed those bold, confident prayers, believing in a miracle for him. It hasn't come yet. He has been in two near-fatal car accidents. Both caused by his drunk-driving. I have to believe that there is a reason he is still alive when by all medical accounts (not including the car accidents) he should have died of liver failure over 20 years ago. I have to believe that there's a plan. I just don't know it. I don't understand it. Why after all of my prayers, all of my family's prayers, the prayers of all the people who love him, prayers of faithful and devout Christians over the last 40+ years, has God not intervened?
Maybe you're struggling with this too. Maybe God didn't answer your prayer for a loved one to beat Cancer. Maybe your faithful prayers for God to spare your child, or your parent or sibling weren't answered. Maybe you're wondering why He hasn't healed your marriage, or answered your prayers for financial success. Maybe you've given up completely on praying because what's the point? He didn't answer the last one. Or he hasn't answered this one yet.
I wish I could tell you I have specific answers to these questions. I wish I had an answer to my own question of why. Instead, can I just offer this encouraging thought? God. Is. In. Complete. Control. Always. His ways are not our ways. I don't know if the answer to my prayers is a "No" or a "Not yet." I don't know if your "No" was a "No, because I have something way better for you." Maybe it had nothing to do with you at all, but your suffering was a lesson for someone else. Maybe your story caused someone else to turn to God? We can't see the big picture. We can't see all the puzzle pieces and how he's fitting them all together. We only see our part of the puzzle. But we can be confident that He sees it all. God did not cause your suffering just for the sake of making you suffer. He loves us way too much for that.
Romans 5:2a-5 And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.
So as difficult as it is, try to rejoice in your sufferings knowing that good is coming out of it. Somehow. Somewhere. For someone. Does it seem fair that He uses us to benefit others? Not necessarily. But if you stay faithful during your suffering, and patient during your 'not yet' I believe you will be blessed for it.
Comments
Post a Comment