Finding My Fatherনমুনা

“Hello Trouble”

“Here she comes again. Down to the altar another time.” I knew what they were saying. It’s like I could hear their thoughts as I walked past their pews to the front of the church. I was driven to go and nothing could stop me. Couldn’t they see past their judgement and recognize a broken girl?

As I transitioned from a little girl to a teenager, the need for adrenaline and attention grew. Although my mom tried to protect me, I grew up and began to put pieces together. I became bitter. I would remember nightly car rides with my mom on the search for my dad. For years, he was not a constant presence in my life, but he was near. He was busy balancing his double life of two families and many lies.

Back then my relationship with Jesus was surface deep. The only way I knew to get to Him was the altar. I was lost and searching. I would find Him there. It’s almost like it was a standing appointment, every Sunday I could meet Him there at the altar. I was too immature in Jesus to realize that although my heart was pure, my behavior needed to change.

I remember asking Him many times why my father didn’t want me? Why did he want them instead? What had I done so wrong? I told him I blamed Him for not fixing it.

There would be several years of broken relationships, drugs, manic episodes, irrational behaviors, all fueled by one thing: unforgiveness. As you go to bed tonight, it’s important you examine your heart for signs of unforgiveness. This is a tool the enemy likes to use to keep us bound in sin.