Daddy and Appendicitis
Dedicated to My Dad, Who I Equally Love Confused, Just as God Intended for Our Mutual Soul Growth
In my life, all pain has been like appendicitis.
I decided to avoid Dad when newborn and crib laid; I'd heard
his authoritative voice as aimed towards my toddler Brother,
noted the noise ended with smack sounds and crying. By the
time I was seven, Dad and Bro had a healthy bond. I still
practiced avoidance and had developed insecurities from our
relationship.
Dinnertime was fright-time. My refusal to eat some foods
caused criticism that Dad directed at me in spotlight-intense
fashion. Sad, I prayed and felt God say, "You are perfect." I
wasn't as easily eased over another dinner-misery: Dad would
ask me scholastic questions, I'd turn pressure-paralyzed, then
ashamed for not responding and Bro would answer. I'd feel stupid,
watch the meat being passed ... later, crying, I would pray and
hear, "Your mind is perfect."
When nine, a pain began in my gut during church. Years later, I
wondered if it started there, where we rarely went, because God
wished to say, "pain is from Me, do not fear -trust." Once home,
I was put to bed where pain worsened. When Dad decided to take
me to the Army hospital I got scared - even sick I was sure I'd be
inadequate company.
Dad carried me to the car, tucked me in blankets and spoke
soothing words the entire drive. Once parked, he scooped me
up, ran to the entrance, declined a wheelchair, carried me
everywhere and held me during tests and results. Through pain,
I registered Dad's emotional behaviors and realized, HE LOVES ME.
Once diagnosed, I said, "thank you, appendicitis."
I've been a numb-puddle countless times, I've even experienced
suicide ideology. Walking through pain, holding God's hand,
has always been my attempted plan. Only facing my Dad-pain
made me alert to the joy revealed in the hospital. That pain is also
the reason I'd turned to God and realized many spiritual truths in
childhood.
I pray to faith-stay through future heartaches. It's hard, but does
lead to blessings of growth, prayer manifestations or both. At
eleven, my son became epileptic, meds failed, months passed and
the seizures increased in severity. One night, I entered my bedroom,
shut the door, screamed, "F U, God", and waited for lightening. None
came and neither did anymore seizures. He reinforced that He
listens.
Ultimately, I kept my appendix and it's healthy, ready and steady.
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