Monday, June 2, 2014

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?