pensees (where's the accent key?!)

I picked up When God Writes Your Love Story when I got into bed and was reading, but then this thought came to me and I wanted to record it before I forgot it. So here I am, out of bed, really tired, getting sick (again...geez, what gives?!) and blogging. How do you spell "addict...?" (B-E-T-H-A-N-Y...that's how!)

Most recent chapter has been talking about how parents play a crucial role in a person's love story. They are great teammates that care about you and will pray for/with you during any relationship. Plus, they can give you advice, etc.

Well, I started thinking about my parents and how they've dealt with my relationships. (All paltry two of them. Thank you, Jesus, that it hasn't been more! Too many...) Anyhow, they've been somewhat removed, as in, "We're not going to tell you what to do about this," which I've appreciated. It means that I've learned for myself how things go, but I know that they're always willing to lend advice or listen if I have a problem. Also, I know that if they KNEW something was wrong, they'd tell me. (I might not necessarily listen--hence the end results of previous relationship--but I'd at least hear them out.)

This made me think of my dad. My heavenly Father gets most of the discussion in this blog, but I tend not to speak of my earthly father as much. I don't always realize how well my dad understands me and how much wisdom he employs--I'm thinking God-given--when dealing with me. He doesn't push me too far, but he sort of uses a Socratic method in discussing issues with me. He's calming, and he listens to what I have to say before trying to come up with a solution.

Calm. That's a good trait in my father. He keeps his head when I'm losing mine, and he just wraps me up in a big ole hug when I burst into tears and need someone warm to snuggle up to. He'll kiss my hair and tell me everything will be all right and that we can fix things. That's something else about him--he's very positive.

It's interesting how this thought revealed itself gradually as I was reading. It made me think back to when I was fighting going to college at all. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, I wasn't pursuing God, I was upset and grieving that I was gone from Africa and all of my friends, and I didn't want to jump into something so huge that I would get swallowed up posthaste. What did my dad say in response? "Well, not everyone needs to go to college, sweetheart, and I won't think any less of you if you don't go."

Talk about knowing how to take the pressure off! He really does know me. (And here's where I get to do a mini-plug for God because He knows me so much more!!!)

In pretty much all situations of similar kind, my dad will take the pressure off the situation and let me decompress, but his questions and/or statements lead me toward a definite decision/action/goal. My dad knew that college was the best thing for me--and here I be--but he wasn't going to force me into it because there's no use in forcing a person to do something they don't want to do. That just creates stress and tension.

This reminded me of some situations I was going through this semester--probably late September. I was frustrated, hurt, and lonely, and I didn't know what to do anymore. I was complaining to my dad, almost crying in the store as we were talking, and he said, "Y'know, you've had a good run, but maybe that's as long as it's supposed to have been."

Talk about taking the pressure off! Wait, you mean I don't have to continue if it's killing me? I have that option available? Hmm...maybe I'll just press on a little more. Now, in that area, I've still got some doubts, but the fact that all of this came to me while reading that book...perhaps it means something...? Maybe. In the meantime, I think the Nyquil just kicked in, so I'm going to go back to bed.