Healing of the Heart
This isn’t so much a letter to a friend as it is a letter to many friends.
it’s an attempt of telling a story that really happened.
Nicholai
There are times in life when something so poignant happens that defies all logic or understanding. Quite a few times in my life, I’ve experienced this. Times when you have to shake your head at the wonder because suddenly, your eyes have been opened. Something so profound can change your life, your attitudes and your understanding. Where, you become amazed and convinced, that God has to be orchestrating these incredible moments.
This is one such time.
To tell this story with clarity to the reader, it requires that I share some personal details of my childhood and family life. I’m reticent to do that unequivocally so, I’ll attempt to protect the other members of the story without watering down the core truth. It may be a little long but hopefully, it’s worth it.
Background
I’m the youngest in a family of 6 children. The youngest child tends to see the family from a unique position that only the youngest of a large family can appreciate.
Being the youngest afforded me more freedom than my older siblings ever had. Because of that freedom, I grew up with an individual attitude as well as a strong independent spirit.
Whatever the reasons, I seemed to grow up with a healthy independence of thought. In some ways, that independence caused me to become a bit of a loner. Independent thought, isn’t generally embraced by the crowd.
I’m a person who thinks things through and once I arrive at an opinion, I have strong convictions as to why I hold that opinion.
Simply, I’m not a sheep who follows blindly. Not without a myriad of questions anyway.
However, there was one area where I WAS a sheep, and that was in respect to the attitude I embraced of my Father.
The Man
My father was a good responsible man who, literally worked til the day he died. We were a working class family and as it was in those days, my father would work in part-time jobs while on annual holidays from his main employment.
Such was the need in providing for the family.
As a person, he was blessed with an affable and gregarious personality as well as possessing a powerful and high quality Tenor voice. He could enter any party or Pub, such was his practice, and be shouted drinks all night if he would just sing and entertain!
He could confidently entertain large groups of people. He was never short of a joke, a great yarn and a cheeky smile that would disarm anyone.
He was a natural entertainer and generally, the life of the party.
This is the father who in my younger childhood, I grew up loving admiring and being darn proud of being his son.
This was the father who everyone saw and who everyone wanted to know. However, this was not the father who existed in the family home behind closed doors.
That man, that father, was moody and somewhat troubled and with the accompaniment of my regimented mother, increasingly argumentative. To ease his pain, he drank heavily and as my childhood unfolded, his practise of drinking decisively increased.
However, he was a man who could hold his drink. He could drink all day and never appear drunk. He was a highly functioning alcoholic until the last few years of his life. His alcohol abuse eventually caught up with him though and during his final years, he became more and more belligerent. The alcohol effectively destroyed him physically and mentally but it was a slow and painful process.
To complete the picture I’m attempting to make, I need to describe the obvious frustrations of my mother too.
From my perspective, my Mum was a very strong, honest woman who set herself and lived to high moral standards and, expected those standards to be met by her children and husband.
She could be warm at times however generally she showed her love by serving and sacrifice, rather than physical hugs or cuddles. She could be a lot of fun too.
She was incredibly insightful as well. She could be so honest that her cutting words could slice to the bone. But, if you understood her you’d never need to take offence because, that was how she showed her love. She just went straight to the point with no fancy detours.
She valued truth above being ‘nice’ and she was quite often right.
Well, mostly right.
Arguments & Fights
Now, the area where I was not independently forming my own opinion was to do with my Dad. As my life unfolded, my Mum and Dad increasingly engaged in loud nightly aggressive arguments. Usually over my fathers choices in life and his inability or downright refusal, to live to my mothers expectations.
It really was a sad state of affairs.
My fathers drinking coincided with my mothers frustration and her continued rejection of my father. As my fathers drinking increased, my mothers disrespect grew. As my mothers disrespect grew, my fathers drinking increased. And, around and around we went.
For a young child caught in the middle, it was a pretty tragic home life and conspired to leave all of us kids distraught for any understanding.
So, as their dissatisfaction with each other grew so did the screaming accusations. Accusation after accusation created ever louder arguments with increased regularity and served to act like a cyclone, sucking everyone into its vortex.
Including we children!
Over many years the incessant fighting created a poisonous atmosphere that would become physical sometimes, setting sibling against sibling, parent against parent, never with a winner, only with guaranteed losers encumbered with yet another score to settle. It was increasingly poisonous.
In the midst of this continual swirling cacophony of abuse, I eventually sided with my mother and set myself in judgement of my father.
I was just 13.
I refused any and all respect for him and, over the next 4 years or so I slowly watched him mentally and physically deteriorate until he finally died a terrible slow death.
By that time, he seemed to have lost all self respect and looked more like a man in his 70’s rather than the 56 yr old he was.
His was a very sad and embarrassing decline of a good man who found little understanding or help from those closest to him.
Although I was only young at the time, I’m still saddened that I turned my back on him because looking back now, there was a period when I think all he needed was some love, respect and understanding but he received none.
Even though he worked until the day he died my father died an ignominious, alcoholic death.
He, being of that stoic generation who battled World War 2 after spending their childhood scratching for food during the depression.
You know, he never once shared reasons for his pain? Instead, in that regard he suffered silently.
Time slowly broke him down and crushed his spirit. As time went on and life’s pressures grew, he became unable to restrain his inner pain. He could mask that pain through humour publicly but in private, his demons eventually overtook him.
For a kid, watching on as your father slowly drank himself to death was torturous in lots of ways.
And of course, I had a front row seat!
Drugs of the 70’s
Once I turned 17 or so, binging on alcohol was already a normal occurrence among the young guys growing up in the suburbs. Then, seemingly out of the blue, drugs flooded the neighbourhoods. Everyone I knew were smoking joints and before long, taking trips (LSD) and not long after that, injecting themselves with Smack (Heroin). How the floodgates opened so quickly to all manner of drugs into our society has always amazed me.
It was like a Tsunami.
Indeed, my fathers demise and the pain I witnessed growing up through it, served to save my life really because, although I dabbled in the whole drug scene, I was suspicious of the dangers whereas, so many others jumped in boots and all. Subsequently, I watched so many friends who I grew up with die from overdose one after another after another.
Most of them in their early 20’s.
So…
At this point you may be wondering what the opening paragraph was all about?
What are these wonderful experiences that I initially spoke of?
Well, I’m unable to describe the wonder and beauty of this experience without first painting the darkness that coloured the reality of life at the time.
After all, the light shines brightest in the darkness.
Fast Forward
So, we now need to fast forward 5 years from my fathers death.
I am now 22 years of age, and I’m married to this wonderful and gorgeous woman who’s 8 ½ months pregnant with our first child. I’d never resolved the pain or gleaned anything positive from my fathers death. Indeed at the time all I could understand was that I looked upon him as how NOT to live my life.
I used him as a blueprint. If I was to succeed in life, I’d need to make complete opposite choices than he did. (A George Costanza style of thinking lol)
It seemed very practical and logical at the time.
The Paper Boy
So one afternoon I arrive home after finishing work and I heard the whistle of the Paperboy making his way down the street. Those were the days when there were Paper Boys!
I walked up the driveway, stood on the side of the road waiting for him to finish serving his present customer. As he made his way to me, I reached into my pocket finding some loose change to pay for the Newspaper.
Upon finishing the exchange, I spun around, walked back down the driveway, quickly glancing at the headlines. At about that time, I looked up and saw my heavily pregnant wife slowly waddle across the bottom of the driveway from our neighbours house into ours. I could clearly see her silhouette as she crossed in front of me. She was quite burdened physically by this stage of the pregnancy, when a thought popped into my head.
I remember thinking, “Gee I hope nothing happens to her when she has this baby! I’d feel so responsible!”
I also felt an instant emotion of a bottomless loss, with a thought of, “what if something does happen?”
Then, I heard these words spoken into my spirit.
“So, how did your father feel when his first wife died?”
It stunned me! I froze!
I physically stopped right where I was, standing there in the middle of the driveway. I stared straight forward into nothingness. Absolutely gobsmacked! I cannot describe the impact this was having on me.
It was like all of my inner strength, my personal pride maybe? was instantly shattered into a thousand pieces. My self righteousness became shattered like a broken mirror.
After hearing those words, it was like I experienced all the emotion of those 17 years of childhood frustration, pain, anger, rage, all quickly being replayed in my mind like a sped up sequence of events. Flashbacks, seeing ugly facial expressions of my family in the midst of anguish, complete with the very deep seated pain and emotions that washed my childhood which was still a very real part of me if I’m to be honest.
But instead of judgement of my father that I’d embraced for so many years, I instantly and I believe miraculously, saw him from a totally different vantage point.
Instead of seeing him as my target for all blame, I began to see him as a victim. I honestly believe I saw him from Gods own eyes. I saw him as a victim of life that indeed he was.
Instead of seeing him as a weak and defeated man, I now understood that he was just a man doing his best until the realities and burdens of life eventually broke him down until he finally succumb.
But most sadly, I actually saw and experienced his loneliness and rejection by those closest to him.
And, that included me.
And because I could now feel and understand his pain, it was easy for me to surrender my righteous anger and self justification that I’d carried for quite some time.
All of a sudden, in the blink of an eye, everything changed, everything made sense.
I could now understand WHY!
For the first time since my fathers death I was able to genuinely shed a tear and genuinely mourn his loss because up until then, I hadn’t.
Instead of harbouring a self righteousness for my pain and emotional scars, I was amazingly able to now look upon him with a new understanding with grace and love. Most importantly though, I was able to forgive him and then, a little later that evening, I was even able to forgive myself.
It was incredibly powerful!
And, it absolutely changed everything about my life!
My Dads story goes like this.
In 1939, my father was married to his first wife and, by 1942 they had a 12 month old baby boy, and she was pregnant with her 2nd baby.
4 months into the pregnancy, she was diagnosed with Tuberculosis.
She was told by the Doctors that she had a reasonable chance of recovery if she was treated immediately but, she’d need to abort the baby. If she went ahead with the pregnancy, she’d almost certainly die.
So, she chose to go ahead with the pregnancy and, 6 weeks after giving birth to a healthy baby boy, she did indeed die of Tuberculosis.
She was 24!
With World War 2 now raging, my 23 year old father who, was serving in the Australian Military Forces, had a 6 week old baby boy, a 12 month old son as well as a dead wife.
In those days, there was no Social Security so, he had no choice but to rely on family and friends to help.
Simply, my Dad never recovered!
He met and married my mother 8 months later and they were destined to endure a rocky relationship that was founded on desperation and a broken heart.
Power of the Spirit
I KNEW it was God who spoke those words to me that day. They weren’t just words though. They were accompanied by an incredible healing power because those words healed.
They healed a young man who really needed healing.
It was God who instantaneously and miraculously transported me, and I mean that, He transported me from a place of judgement to a place of understanding. God allowed me an insiders view of the man but also emotionally coupled me to the pain the man lived with.
I couldn’t bare it.
This experience changed my life. It absolutely did. It changed the way I viewed my past. It changed the way I would treat the future too. It changed the way I viewed my family, my Parents, and it changed the way I viewed people. It changed the way I viewed the world. It changed the way I viewed myself.
It changed the way I viewed God.
The change in me was not just a change in attitude or a change of perspective. It was a change of my heart.
It was a healing of the heart.
Instead of being trapped within an attitude of self righteousness and righteous indignation, I was afforded an opportunity to leave that prison.
And, a prison it is!
The absolute and pure light of God shone upon me and that self righteousness was revealed as the mimicked and veneered validation that it really is and, always was!
I saw the putrid justification I held by the judgement of my father instead of the love and understanding he so desperately needed.
And, all during this wonderful experience I never once felt judged by God. I just saw my flimsy righteousness melt away when exposed to an understanding of truth, light and the love of God.
And, I saw just a glimpse of his wonder. Only a glimpse. But his light and love is proven perfect and absolutely able to heal the deepest of wounds.
IF God is good and loves us, as well as being all knowing, surely he must reach out to help heal and guide us? Or, does he look on at our suffering for his sick entertainment while allowing us to live our lives bouncing from one tragedy to another like a ball in a Pinball machine?
In my life there have been times when I’ve sometimes felt like a pin ball in a machine that’s being bounced from one catastrophe to another, without ever seeming to be in control of my course, speed or destination.
Does he hear our prayers of hope and salvation or our pleas for protection and guidance?
Does he ever intervene providing us with that necessary guidance, hope and healing that we’ve desperately hoped for?
We Need Time
My belief, and my experience is that he does intervene from time to time, giving us that direction and hope that we so desperately need. But he also allows us to experience the reality of evil as well as tasting the fruits of evil. Sometimes it may be the fruit of our own evil and sometimes, it may be experiencing the fruit of other people’s evil but allow us, he does.
I spent my childhood praying to Jesus.
As a child, Jesus represented the hope I needed, the guidance I yearned for and the acceptance that every Human Being craves. I never heard him speak to me or remember any ‘out of this world’ interaction but, I do remember the peace in solitude I had, as well as the acceptance of a repentant heart. I do know that Jesus provided me the personal strength I needed as a child and, I really believe he was the reason I was able to survive the madness that surrounded me.
By the time I’d become an adult, my relationship with Jesus was still alive but somewhat distant because of choices I’d made and attitudes I’d adopted. Distant from my perspective but obviously, not from his.
Since that day, I’ve had a growing and deepening relationship with God and have experienced many wonderful leadings and have been used to help many people. I still have times where I feel like the silver pinball. I still let myself down in choices and attitudes I hold but, in time, he gently and definitely nudges and prods me to set things right and lights my path straight.
I know he loves me. And he always offers hope.
I write this article because of one motivation only and that is, that it may encourage others who find themselves in bitter and lonely places, due to experiencing the evil of others or tasting the evil of their own doing and feel like there’s no escape.
There is!
I know that redemption is possible. I also know that complete healing is possible.
At least, a healing of the heart.
All it takes is a repentant heart, and an honest and contrite spirit before God almighty through his son Jesus Christ. If you’ve never spoken to him don’t be shy. Just be honest. If you do, he will reveal himself to you and shine a light into areas of your heart that only you know exist. Just be sincere and honest and he’ll do marvellous and wondrous things.
Best? you will know his incredible love for you.
Addendum
(Yea there’s more!)
If you’re unable to understand the phrase I used, ‘spoke into my spirit’ I’ll try to explain. Firstly, I believe we are spiritual beings trapped within a mortal body living in a mortal world. My spirit is eternal but my body is mortal.
I didn’t hear a voice. I did not hear it with my ears. As I wrote, I heard it in my spirit.
That day, as I was thinking, ‘I hope nothing happens to my wife when she has this baby’, that thought was carried in my mind or soul or wherever that occurs.
Where does that conscience voice speak from?
It’s kind of like the conscience that we all experience where you can almost discuss the good and evil of issues by thinking on them. Just like there’s often dark condemning thoughts, there’s often a light and loving voice too.
Wherever that takes place is where that thought, emanated from.
But the following statement, ‘So how’d your father feel when his first wife died’ wasn’t my thought.
It was separate to me and separate to my mind and my will. It was outside of me although somehow, I clearly knew his voice within me. AND, it was so profound. Way beyond my ability of insight or understanding. It wasn’t loud. It was gentle but was accompanied by incredible power.
It instantly unlocked years of tangled knots.
This is a long article and truthfully, I don’t know how to finish it. I suppose the lessons that come out of this for me are, that God is faithful but his timing is way different to our own. His purpose is also higher than our own. He calls us to have faith and to love one another but how can we love when so many of us don’t really know what love is?
I’ve genuinely experienced the love of God. And, that love is so complete and even, overwhelming. His love is pure.
It is fire, it is light. It’s so incredible because it’s accompanied by a complete acceptance of who you really are, embraced with pure love. Even with all of your faults and pride, he accepts you and LOVES you. Jesus’ love is all encompassing. It is complete. It completely satisfies. It is eternal.
I write this because I KNOW this is all true. This is not some dogma that I’ve been taught to say.
I have experienced all of this! yet all I have is words.
He sacrificed everything for each of us and if you can’t grasp that, I understand because, I can’t grasp it either. Not in it’s entirety but sometimes, he gives me an ‘in’, a glimpse of an understanding, so that I might be thankful and so that I might understand. I may only be able to get a glimpse but as I just stated, it’s enough to satisfy. It’s complete.
And, he offers this to all who have a contrite and repenting heart. There is nothing that we can have done, that he cannot forgive and make right. I also KNOW that. There is also nothing that we can do to deserve his love. You don’t have to be good. In fact, we can’t even last being good just for a few hours, if you’re anything like me?
No, he accepts us as we are.
The question is, can we?
Talk to him in a real way and be amazed.
I genuinely hope there’s a real blessing of God on all who read this.
Nicholai