Those words hurt…

They hurt really bad.

******************

I’m joining The Nester for 31 days.  Picking up where I left off last month sharing family friendly stories only now – a slight shift towards #31 Influencial people.  I’m going to stay away from the word “most”.  The people and their stories will not be in any particular order.  And finally, there are more than 31 people who have contributed to our journey and by no means should  your story not be found here -does that mean you aren’t appreciated, cherished, loved.  The rules of the challenge are 31 days because there are 31 days in this month.  I’m just following the rules.

So without further adieu may I introduce you to my daddy.

My daddy is tall in stature, has sparkly blue eyes and is one of the strongest men I know.  Life as a child for my daddy was hard.  Really hard a lot of days.  He and his only sister were reared for the most part by their Granny.  Though I’m certain there were days of ease most of his days were tough.   He moved back & forth through his elementary years from Alabama to Georgia back to sweet home Alabama.  Played as the starting quarterback in high school only to quit school in February of his Senior year to pursue my sweet Momma and a career in music.

Their pursuit of life in the fast lane lead them to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.  Daddy played in a band with Momma, her sister and two older brothers.  Myrtle Beach in the summer. Fayetteville in the off season. Recently I asked Daddy, “What season of life do you look back on and smile?”  He replied, “The days spent at Myrtle Beach.  Carefree days spent riding my bike up the strand -nights spent playing and singing” My daddy is a gifted guitarist, smooth vocalist and can thump a bass that will make your momma dance.

Daddy was a self employed rock mason for most of our childhood.  Somewhere in my preteen years he went to work on a limousin cattle farm by day -singing on the weekend by night.  He modeled the importance of strong work ethic. Daddy was always there.  Pageants, slumber parties, campouts galore.  We really couldn’t have asked for more.  Our biggest fan.  Cheering the sisters and me on -all the way.

Because we like to keep it real here on the blog I will tell you that in spite all that my Daddy did well, he was/is not perfect.  Lots of days we fought.  Fought hard.  Our conversations on more times than I care to count were heated.  I was disrespectful and just outright mean lots of days.  One day in particular..the heat was rising–words being carelessly spewed at one another when Daddy said,

“YOU’RE TOO PASSIONATE.”

Those words hurt.  They hurt really bad.

“TOO PASSIONATE?”  You say, “too passionate is a good thing??”…surely He meant well?”

No. Not in that conversation.  The way He said it- I am certain- was not in an edifying way and I’m pretty sure I ended that conversation with “I hate you.”

That was the one and only time I ever said those words.  We weren’t allowed to say those words.  To anyone.  Particularly those who had made the rule- but I did.  And in that heated, hormonal, rebellious moment I meant it.  A second later I was remorseful and I’m certain Daddy was too.  Daddy and I have see-sawed back and forth through the years with our harmony towards one another.  I’ve recently made peace with the fact that our relationship is hard.  It’s okay.  Our relationship is worth the work.

Just this past weekend at The Influence conference while sitting in a writing workshop -that particular heated exchange with my Daddy came to mind.  The author posed the challenge, “If you are passionate  about the story God has given you-share it!  Share it passionately.”

My heart began to bleed.  In that moment the yucky words my Daddy had said two decades ago in anger were no longer yuck to me.  In that moment I felt those mean words become -good.

“All things work together for good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purposes..” Rom. 8:28

Those words that I had harbored for 20 years became good.  I AM PASSIONATE. PASSION is GOOD.  I am EXTREMELY PASSIONATE about our story.  The story God is writing with our lives.  And on days when I grow weary with this writing project &  the end goal- our book.. seems unlikely- I will remember my Daddy and his words.  Though spoken in anger–God has made them good.. I will draw from the well of PASSION and write.  Write our story FOR HIM.

Thanks Daddy.  Thank you for being you and loving me like you do.

:oK