Throwing Apples

Last night I had some troubling dreams... I dreamed that I was scheduled to visit my younger brother, but unable to go. My dad called to say, “did you know he has to have a surgery?” “No, I had not been told.” “Oh..” His silence hung in the air, wet with disapproval. Shame hung heavily over me. I knew somehow that the surgery was to remove his testicles, due to testicular cancer, but nobody would tell me anything. We were driving through a town, and stopped to get a deal on pizza. The pizzeria became the halls of a high school or college, and I saw on a billboard: My mom was doing a book release! In desperation I was trying to tell my wife, “we need to get out of here..” but it was too late. We left the grocery store, but there was my mom, standing in front of our van. I was awkwardly trying to walk past her. Not really talking to her, trying to get the kids in the van. Now, we were in the parking lot in my hometown. When I woke, I thought, “maybe I needed to get ang...

Parents Note: what has happened in me has been huge. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I need to have a huge confrontation with them. A better approach may be a quiet but firm shift. Let them initiate a conflict later if they want: then it is on them, not on me. Scenario One: detached contact * they are my parents, not my friends. They will not be the friends of my children. * I will research techniques (eg. Social workers) for keeping myself safe, avoiding sharing personal details - I will unfollow (and block?) them on Facebook - They will never be alone with my children - We may visit them occasionally (once every two years?) in a controlled environment, such as a restaurant (everyone is sitting and their hands are occupied in a restaurant. I can keep track of them there..) I may visit them with only one child at a time - They may send Christmas and birthday gifts, but we will remove all personal messages. We will not send them pictures of the kids opening the gifts. ...

Today in counselling, I opened up about my parents issues, especially my fathers rage. I talked some about my childhood and being raised with anger as a tool for discipline. But far more difficult we’re the times as an adult when he would not let me have my own suave and my own ideas, but yelled at me, yelled at my wife, accused us, called us ungodly and even threatened to disown me on more than one occasion, simply for holding a different adult position than himself, or for putting up some boundaries. The session was one hour long, and the words fell thick and wet for an hour and five minutes. Then the counsellor looked at the clock, apologized, and told us we would pick it up tomorrow. I left wrecked emotionally. I leaned on my wife and sobbed quietly in the hall. “Can you pick up the kids? I’d like to go for a run.” “Go! I love you!” I got my shoes and ear buds, and was soon on the trail. I was intending to listen to a podcast, but that app was frozen, so I listened to Lau...

[Note: In November, my family went to a retreat centre where counselling and group therapy were offered, with a special emphasis on ministry families. The following is a synopsis of the time that I gave my testimony in group therapy] Sharing my Testimony I shared my testimony, which focused mostly on our time in Africa as missionaries, and the tragedy of loosing a dream, since we had to return home after only seven months overseas. I had mentioned that in going, I had written in my journal “God, I want to be a martyr for you…but I don’t want my family to suffer.” Afterwards, the comments were: “I see that you have a lot of strings in a lot of directions, especially as a dad. I see that you are trying very hard to care for everyone, and I feel for that.” 
“I validate the struggle to want to give big for God, but not wanting to make your family suffer.” “I felt that when you talked about wanting to die as a martyr, that may have spoken of worth. That you didn’t value yours...

A question I would anticipate my parents thinking or maybe asking is, “what did I do? The answer is, lately, not much! They have been on their best behaviour for years. But that does not mean all is well. A few years ago I realized how rage can be used as manipulation. The cycle is that someone – usually dad, but sometimes mom – we fly into a rage. Angry voices, tempers flare in, sometimes things were thrown. Sometimes, those who got in the way were “disciplined”. And then afterwords, everything went back to normal. But it was not normal. It was a new normal. Actually, I’m moving too fast. Sometimes, there was a slight apology. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have raise my voice like that. I hope your feelings weren’t hurt? Here give me a hug…“ Usually, instinctively, we squirmed out of those hugs. We didn’t want it! It felt weird. We wish he would just skip that part. Then sometimes he would be overly silly, poke me to try to make me laugh so I would stop being mad I never liked ...