At an event I attended in April, the Lord had asked me, how I felt, if it turned out that he had said something similar to the enemy about me, that he said about Job. What if I found out that the Lord said to Satan, have you seen my servant Tanya?

This past Sunday he woke me with instruction: he told me to read John 7 and 8. I noticed how the Scribes and Pharisees treated him. He reminded me of a church trial I had three years ago. My friends had been banned. I was not banned but a statement was read in the community recommending my friends and I were not to be trusted. I did not return. As the Lord brought this up, he asked me why I did not go back. I said that leaders instructing people not to trust me would prohibit me from community. He said oh. Then I got it. Scribes and Pharisees were telling people not to trust him. He still continued to go. I realized I had missed it. He said Man cannot legislate trust. I asked why I could not hear him during that season, instructing me to go. He said I could not have heard him, so he did not say it. I wept.

Then Wednesday, I woke up with such energy. The Lord had been missing the songs I sing while doing stuff around the house, and I sang and sang. Order was in place to get a bunch of stuff done. The flow was so life giving. The Lord knew I was seeing my counselor that day and he asked if I would be willing to look at a memory involving my Dad. For the friends that get confused and think he was the satanist, I call him my step dad. But he met my mom when I was six weeks, married her when I was four, adopted me when I was six and remained her husband till she passed last November. Yes he sexually abused me;-everyone did. But he did have remorse, and a lot of guilt. I remember when he stopped sleeping in the same room as my mom. He was devout catholic. I believe he had told a priest what he had done, and his penance was abstinence. Dad had been struggling physically for about six month (in California). At 96 the list of things gone wrong was big. Yes, Lord. I trust. My history with him in healing has restored that trust. Next I got the call. Dad had passed. All the local family had seen him yesterday. He waited until everyone was gone. And the Lord called him home.

I realized all the energy came because the burden was gone. I went out to check my garden. My cucumbers were great. My dad love cukes. My tomato plants were being destroyed by ladybugs. I sighed. And I heard my dad. Maybe next year, he said. Just like he was there, sharing my disappointment. That was a bit confusing. He did not seem like cloud of witnesses. He sounded like pre-eternal state. He seemed relieved to be out of his body. There was a lightness that told me his guilt no longer chained him. I was happy about that, and pondering why he was there. I asked who Jesus was to him. He responded with the truth that Jesus is the Son of God, come in the flesh. So I figured maybe the Lord was answering questions for him about me. My healing involved a decade away from the family.

Although reconciliation began five years ago, perhaps the Lord was catching him up on my life. I was a little miffed that there was no repentance, no apology, but. God is God. So, I planned my day. It seemed there was grace to do errands before my counselor. I went to the post office in Huntley. In our mail there was something from some nuns addressed to my husband’s dad, who passed away two years ago. I opened and tossed it. And heard my Dad say, see, Catholics are not all that bad. That comment sent me straight to the Lord. Does he Know, God? Does he know about the priests at St. Martins, and does he know about my path? The Lord’s response was -if I transition him without him knowing, if he does not need to know to be perfected, is that ok with you? At this point I am thinking it must be my week for hard sayings. And however the Lord transitions him is perfect and good. Settled.

My next stop was to go the half price book store. My freshman daughter needs a book. And I feel a nudge to go into the Christian book store next to it first. I have time. So I do. There is a way the God meets me as I view the art in that store. The verse brings the memory of him, and as my brain matches what my eye sees with how I remember God in that verse, the air around me opens up and he comes. I am viewing the art, and God comes. And I perceive that my dad, who is watching, is being introduced to facets of the Lord he had not known. With each progressive piece of art, he is beginning to weep. As he sees the Lord through my lens.

He starts saying things like I’m sorry. I didn’t know. And he is saying it to God. He is being humbled by the majesty. And I am standing there weeping. And the Lord says again, would you be willing to look at a memory involving him today, and I realize my Dad might be there for that, and I weep even more. And I ask, do I need to forgive him then? And the Lord says any one that you would allow to meet me through you, you have already forgiven. So this memory I get to go into knowing the forgiveness is done. How very strange. And I say ok. Because of who he is. And if he has decided this is good, my limited vision should not prohibit my alignment. Ok.

Sitting with Maggie shortly after, sharing how the morning had looked and what the Lord had asked,

Maggie asks if my Dad can see Jesus. Yes, they are both there. And Jesus is garbed as a catholic priest. Forgiving catholic priests has been part of my journey. 🙂 Knowing he is coming in the way my Dad can receive him, I marvel at my role in this. But then, Jesus stands up, goes to the back of the room, comes back and he has a book. And I know the book is a book of my life, things that happened and my heart’s movements. And I realize he is going to show my dad the book and I am horrified. I remember a time when I was eight or nine, and my dad tried to hug me. I pushed him away and refused. He was so upset with me. He complained to mom about it. He withheld affection from me for days. And I realized my concern was that if he saw it all he would look at me with pity and I would be ashamed. He would never look at me the same way because he would not be able to think that somehow I had done something wrong. The Lord addressed my reservations. The book was opened. My dad saw. He wept.

And he was aghast. His time here was over. He could no longer repent. There was no absolution available in his eyes. No reconciliation model back to God. I saw his horror. And the Lord spoke. He asked me how Jobs friends were reconciled. He asked me if I would pray.

I never realized what that process of praying for his friends was like for Job. Because to pray I had to recognize everything his behavior had cost me in my life. By choosing to not see, by being locked in his own sickness, every relationship I have ever had has been affected. I had to go through all the costs, and then pray for him. And then, just like that he was gone.

The session ended with me repenting to the Lord of the unbelief and doubt that had hindered me.  He did not ask me to pray a hail mary, but just sprinkled me with his blood and it was done. This past weekend my sister let me know that the priest from St Martins that was requested to do my Dad’s funeral was on sabbatical. So they are waiting, until Oct 1. My afternoon in San Diego, pre-arranged months before, will be at the Catholic Church where I went to school as a child. With a priest who likely knew me then. And my whole family is invited. I have to laugh at the ways of God.