Returning to the desert isn’t a one time decision. And if allowed to take too much time to plan, the reasons for not going forward will become so numerous and oppressive that eventually through their own weight and numbers they will stall out the momentum that sustains you. It’s also hard as you reach that first rise in the dunes, look back on the oasis you’re leaving and remember all the good times you enjoyed there. But it’s done, you’ve left, and the memories will stay to provide strength for the journey ahead, because you are not done yet. The journey is not over. There are still things to be encountered there that must be faced if you are to change fully. I was reminded of this by a poem of mine I wrote many years ago, when the birth of my son was near and we were heading into the Christmas season. I called it:
Joseph’s Cry
I’m going to be a father…had you heard?
There will be a little one in my arms crying for me.
There will soon be a little one asking me for direction.
Can I do what’s right?
Can I love enough?
Can I open enough to be a father for this precious life?
What’s it like to raise a happy child?
What’s it like to bring a child into a loving world?
What’s it like to sing and shout and cry with joy over every new discovery?
What’s it like to be a daddy?
I want to be the best at this, but I don’t know how…
I’m not ready for this…
I’m going to be a daddy soon…had you heard?
For a little bit of background, I had been 20 for just over five weeks when my son was born, his mother had been 18 for all of 2 weeks exactly. We were kids, me still in college, her just leaving high school. There was enough history and issues between us by then that we had decided not to stay together but would work together for the good of the child. I didn’t find out about my son’s birth however until we got a call from her mother letting us know that my son had been born and I could go visit him in the hospital over where they feed them in the little windowed nursery area. It was made clear to me that I would not be welcome in the room with my son’s mother and her parents.
So I went.
A little amazed. A little frustrated. A LOT scared. A LOT of confusion… I went into the pediatric area, looked around for the place where they put babies in those little glass beds, didn’t see my son and as I was roaming around the nurses station looking for a nurse to ask, I passed by her room. I only caught a glimpse, but I saw this little tuft of dark hair on his mother’s breast and realizing it was her, kept right on walking. I walked half-way around the nurse’s station, till I was directly opposite and sat in a chair, my hands trembling. I was so scared and so hurt and so angry. Here was life that I had been a part of, hopefully would BE a part of, and I wasn’t even allowed to see it, hold it, touch it, be near it. His mother had made her choice clear months earlier when she decided she wanted to date what had been on of my best friends instead of me. That’s a whole ‘nother mess, that I won’t touch on right now. At any rate, I was a mess of emotion and indecision.
So I sat.
For 30 minutes…
Waiting for her to send him with the nurses to the nursery where I had been told I could see him. He never came. I left shortly after her aunt and uncle (the uncle who had molested her for Christ’s sake) came out of the room. I’d visited with them briefly then fled. And fled was the right word. Fleeing my own emotions, the situation, the responsibility, the hurt, everything. And I didn’t stop for almost 11 years. Only to stop and find myself faced with an even more daunting task. I’m heading back into the desert. I made the choice, I’ve asked my friends and family for as much support as possible while I’m traveling. I’m doing more praying and trying to find those quiet times I’ll need to spend with God. I still feel so unready. I still feel scared. Not sure of what though. My father used part of this blog in his sermon today. I have mixed feelings about it truth be told. On the one hand I’m flattered that it worked well enough for him to share, it’s not the first time me and my family’s life have been used in relation to God and in a sermon, and will likely not be the last. But on the other, it also made me realize, really for the first time, that I have committed myself to this path. There were a number of people at church today who now know about this decision and will lovingly support me on the path I’ve chosen…but it does make it that much harder to back out. Not that I really want to. But when that reality clicks, when the realization of what you are doing hits… it can be somewhat overwhelming.
My son is also gone today, which has given me time… time and quiet to go over things in my mind. I drove down with my best friend to a town almost two hours away to drop him off for a two day visit with his mother while she was in the area visiting a friend. It’s weird with him gone. And a little scary. For all that I struggle with the idea of being a dad, for all that I fight for every bit of “me” time I get, this isn’t the same. And it’s not like when he goes over to a friend’s house for the afternoon. This is a letting go, which as I’ve stated before, is not something I’m very good at. I can only hope and pray…and ask for forgiveness.


