In many
ways it made perfect sense that I would just forget that I saw a post about my
ex-boyfriend’s cancer returning. After
all, he had left me without help when I was pregnant because he “couldn’t deal
with it.”
Why almost
30 years later, after zero communication with him, did I run across his
post? And what did God want me to do
about it? I had been happily married for
almost 25 years to a guy who was an amazing father to my daughter and 3
subsequent children. I was simply not
looking to create an unwanted disturbance to the status quo.
But I just
could not leave it alone in my mind & heart. On an annual trip to the beach with my
husband, just the 2 of us, I brought it up.
His inclination was to leave it alone, too. Neither of us wanted our daughter hurt by any
possible rejection from her biological father.
But I couldn’t dismiss the thought that if it was my father, and I would
never get a chance to meet him, I would be left with unanswered questions.
So, with
my husband’s permission, I broached the subject with my daughter, now a wife
& mother of 2 full-of-life little boys.
She thought she might want to pursue it.
With full warning that I had no idea how he would respond, I agreed to
approach him about it.
After
several days of trying to work up enough nerve, I finally sent him a
message. “We need to talk,” was all I
said. He gave me his phone number and I
hesitantly punched in the number out on my front porch a few minutes later.
30 years
later, but I would have recognized his voice anywhere. He had his girlfriend with him, as I had also
assured him that any communication with him was totally open to my
husband.
“I’ve been
waiting for this call for 30 years.”
Really? I was numbed by that
statement. My daughter and I had exited
the community with my parents to another state and we had lost contact.
I
reflected silently on the single parent years: the embarrassment, the financial
struggles, the loneliness of dealing with issues by myself. This wasn’t easy to hear.
He
apologized. Wow. Simple thing to do…but how does it account
for the absenteeism of that many years…for her lack of a father for 6 years…for
all of it? Yet, God had done a healing
work in my heart over the years. He had
been husband, father, and friend to me in all the void of what should have
been.
I had my
own sin to confess, to allow God to change me in so many desperately-needed
ways. All of it was painful, but I
doubted it could have happened without the pain. So, the healing had taken place slowly. It really never struck me that it had so
completely, until there was no anger or resentment as we talked.
This was a
broken man, crushed by a failed marriage and estranged children, dealing with a
third-go-around with a disease that threatened his life here. But, this was also a changed man who clung to
hope in his God. The same God of grace had
touched both lives so far apart.
“It’s
water under the bridge,” I replied. We
both made mistakes, we both failed God and each other in our sin. There is no restitution, only forgiveness.
He desired
to establish communication with our daughter. Strange words, those, at that
time. I suggested that she was a little
wary, a little unsure, so we would take it slow. I posted some pictures via social media that
caught him up on a life missed. We sent
some messages, they connected, but things were too slow for a man running out of time.
The first
time, I stayed out of it. He and his fiancée
came through to see the little family that we now shared. Things went well, and by Christmas, he wanted
to see her again. And me.
We met
after 30 years at a chain family restaurant over comfort food. It’s hard to voice what it’s like to see
someone you loved, but no more, but still have a connection fleshed out in
children and grandchildren.
We
discovered that both we and our families love God and live a life of trust in
Christ for every provision. The
inheritance he wanted to give our daughter was more than financial; it was a connection, a kinship in Christ
through the godly example of his mother & sister who live it out everyday for
my daughter to see.
I would be
neglectful to not mention the GRACE exposed in my husband, who set aside his
rights and privileges as sole “daddy” to his daughter. Never was there a moment of reservation about
fully encouraging and embracing this new man in her life.
Even after
the mess we had individually and corporately made of our lives, God was interested
in writing a story over the years that none of us could have imagined, much
less have guessed the beautiful ending.
He did
die of cancer, after valiantly battling it for over a year (again). The last time we all met together, he had
more to say, I know. But it was okay, there
was no need. There is no just “make-up
day” for our sins, for our failures, for what is left undone at the end of a
life. But God in His grace covers and
fills in what we leave amiss if our lives are His possession. Isn’t that what all of our grace stories are
about?