War of the Wills

My dad has always been an impressive man. When I say this, I don’t just mean that he was a good father, which he was. What I mean is his impressiveness shows up in both good and bad ways. When I was moving into my first apartment, he carried a love seat up two flights of stairs all by himself, just to prove that he could.  It was impressive, but he could have hurt himself severely doing this. I guess as I’m writing this what I am saying is that my father’s tenacity and stubborn determination are impressive. He is well known for it.

Equally impressive is the stubborn streak he passed on to his only daughter--me. 90% of the time my father and I had a perfect relationship. I wore my “My heart belongs to daddy” jammies until it was impossible to save them any longer. I have memories of racing to see who get to the car first, and then get their seat belt fastened first. He carried me around on his shoulders until I was at least 9 years old.

 In fact, the picture I used of us in this blog reflects our relationship perfectly. It was unintentional that we posed exactly alike, my mother just called out to us that she wanted a picture, we both turned to pose. It wasn't until later that we realized we had the same pose, the same smirk and the same attitude.  We have had a very sweet father daughter relationship. But when we engaged in a battle of the wills it was something to behold.

These days I have mellowed out a bit, but my dad, at 70 is just as determined as ever. What​ is scary for me right now is that he is engaged in a battle with COVID. When he first got it, he was isolating, but not resting. I work out of the church he attends. As I left the building the day he knew he had COVID, he was in the church yard, by himself of course, but playing disc golf. I yelled at him to go home. He responded, “What for? I’m fine. I feel great, I just have a little fever.” He maintained this determination for a few days. But soon, when I called to check on him, I heard him gasping for air. Even still he insisted that he was fine.

This morning I was on the phone with my mother, who also was hit hard with COVID, but she went to the hospital and is recovered now. My dad is still (I have to be careful how I word this, as he will likely read this) regaining his strength, but at a slower pace than my mom did. I told my mom that he better watch out or we will have to go “Kenney head-to-head again”, only I’m not four anymore, and he’s weak from COVID. He responded and said he could still whoop me, and we all laughed.

After the phone call I reflected with a smile on my face about the war of the wills between my dad and me. When I was young without a doubt he won. I thought of my four-year-old self holding my blankie, tilting my head back as far as I could so I could look my father in the eye with determination. Back then he could carry me to my room if I refused to comply (which I always did). I may open the door and stomp back out, but eventually he won. I was physically no match for him. But as I got older there was a shift. A shift that has been healthy for me because it worked some of the defiant determination from my wild spirit.

The time I remember the best is the time I got angry at him I’m not even sure why. We had an exchange of words that were not nice. At the time my brother was in Tennessee in the military, so I decided I was going to move there with them. But by the time I got my stuff together, he disconnected something in my car so it wouldn’t start. Rather than taking time to cool down like any smart teenager, I decided I would win. I walked to a friend’s house, gave him gas money, and asked him to take me to Tennessee. I had clearly won that battle. But winning the war was a different story all together.

Within a day and a half, I got the worse case of tonsillitis I have ever had, I could hardly swallow and I had to survive on chicken broth. I remember watching everyone else eating steaks, while I sipped on bland broth. It wasn’t long before I broke, called home, cried, apologized, and my loving father bought me a bus ticket home. This story is not the only one like this, and it isn’t even the worst one believe it or not. In all the cases that my will was able to “win” I always wished I hadn’t. God bless my parents, but truly my father only has himself to blame, I got the stubborn from him (kidding of course).

I can’t help but make a comparison between those moments with my earthly father and similar moments with my heavenly father. There are a lot of protective instructions in the Bible. It is my experience that God puts the instructions to protect us from our foolishness. Many people are unaware of the beauty that is found in the Bible. All of mankind, those who believe as well as those who do not believe in Yahweh God, have a natural rebellion to His ways. I have found myself “taking on” my heavenly Father, will against will. There have been times that I do not win, but in those times that my rebellion does win, I always find myself wishing I had done it God’s way and not my own.

There is so much wisdom and healing truth to be discovered in the Bible. One of my favorite Scriptures in found in Romans 11, where the statements are made that his wisdom and knowledge are treasures, and they are unsearchable. He is a mystery that we will never understand because we were not meant to. My hope is that if you have never taken the time to read Scripture, and measure it against yourself, that you will take the time to do it. Proverbs and James are two of the best for this, or there are lots of study guides you can find, and as always if this is something you, my reader, are interested in, you can always reach out to me. I pray for my clients and my readers regularly. I have found so many answers to life’s hardest questions through a relationship with my Lord. I want nothing more than to guide others to that same healing presence.