So we open up a quarrel
Between the present and the past
We only sacrifice the future
It’s the bitterness that lasts**
The role I assumed in my family was one of peace keeper. We weren’t a particularly quarrelsome family, but whenever conflict of any sort arose, I’d try to mediate the situation and smooth things over. This naturally bled into every area of my life. I think peace keepers are necessarily people pleasers–conflict avoidance and the desire to please others make ready bedfellows.
For most of my life I viewed my peace-keeping, people-pleasing inclinations as virtue. Then God tough-loved me and revealed this as an idol of mine (in the sometimes soft, sometimes sledgehammer ways His Spirit can work in your heart through His Word, study or circumstance–and in my case, all three simultaneously).
Ouch.
In our well-intentioned-but-flawed state, we can make an idol out of
anything when it becomes the thing we “worship”, even good
things–work, volunteerism, children, marriage, busyness, and in my
case nice. The god of Nice. I was much more concerned about “you”
liking me (whether it be family or friend or co-worker) than I was
about pleasing God. That meant conflict, real issues between people,
weren’t dealt with; instead, they were conveniently swept under the rug
and forgotten. The problem with that is the dusty point of contention
was still there.
So we open up a quarrel
So don’t yield to the fortunes
You sometimes see as fate
It may have a new perspective
On a different day
And if you don’t give up, and don’t give in
You may just be OK.
I was working through the Beth Moore study “Living Beyond Yourself” when God smacked me with this revelation…the difference between being a peace keeper (not so healthy) and a peace maker (very healthy). Moore suggested (and keep in mind I studied this several years ago and my memory and notes are imperfect!) keepers try to maintain peace at any cost, but there’s no completed action, no resolution of the conflict; in essence they’re keeping something (a false peace) that doesn’t really exist (because there’s no resolution). Peace MAKERS on the other hand, deal with the issue, work through to resolution.
For me, these ideas were revolutionary. I began to see in retrospect how my peace-keeping role in family had perhaps, ironically, created a chasm in my relationship with my father, not bridged a gap. There were a lot of little somethings in between us, preventing a closeness I longed for.
I never dealt with those things. There was never true peace made with Daddy.
You know why? Because I wanted him to be the initiator of peace (but I’m sure he never even realized there was division); as my father, it was him who needed to pursue me, not me, as his child pursuing him. I wanted him to be the grown up.
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye
It’s important to note we loved each other, there was no doubt about that. This isn’t about loving–invisible threads that tie parent to child, where shared blood flows with forgiveness and long-suffering and affection.
This is about knowing each other. I never got to know him, I never really let him know me.
Because I wanted to please him, because I would rather have kept peace with him than make him uncomfortable, I never tried to know him.
As I began to understand these things about myself, about him, I began to extend to him a kind of generosity…I no longer found fault with him or blamed him for not trying to know me. Truly, I’m inclined to believe a fair amount of this lies with his generation and his general guardedness in sharing his emotions; part of it lies with him wanting to protect me from things I “didn’t need to know”.
And then, in a twisted turn of fate in God’s sovereign mercy, Daddy’s health began declining. Dementia and early Alzheimer’s began to surface, at first, excusable (don’t we all forget where we put our keys or the name of someone we just met?), eventually impossible to ignore.
How could I possibly find the good in that?
…this is getting long, so thoughts to be concluded next post….
I so hope that you and your dad made peace. I never got the chance and I regret it every day of my life. My consolation lies in the fact that now, at least, my Dad knows what is and was in my heart. Thanks for sharing.
Dude.
Wow…..
Again so deep and thoughtful…Thank you for sharing and being so open! I am looking forward to the next installment!
Oh, you sound like me! I am a keep-the-peace-at-any-cost person, definitely a people pleaser. I am in the middle of learning this lesson. I know that this has affected my relationship with my husband.
BTW, my dad is a paranoid delusional schizophrenic with a touch of dementia.
Thanks for posting this, and I look forward to the conclusion.
hmmm….this touches me in more ways than you know. My relationship with my dad is like this. I have a lot of unerlying anger and resentment that I have NEVER told him about – and I am pleasant with him, but he doesn’t really know me nor I him. Will I ever tell him? I don’t know if I’m ready to yet.
Sandy, I don’t think we were ever not at peace…but, the point I will eventually get to addresses your second sentence. I’m glad your dad did hear what was in your heart…that’s a BIG something…:).
Kristy, ummm…yeah…
Kaytabug, somehow this is cathartic to put it into words…they’ve always just been silent thoughts (for the most part) ramblin’ around my head….
Revka, you might wanna look into that Beth Moore study I mentioned…it was one of hers that rocked my world :). I don’t know if your dad has struggled w/the PDS part all his life, but some of those symptoms creeped into my dad’s illness in his mid 70s…I’m so sorry, because I know the things you’re having to live with in him (at least in part). {{hugs}}}
Karmyn, I wonder if this is why you and I met…I really am headed somewhere with this post, gosh, I hope to be able to get there (clearly!). Your last two sentences? I’m headed there….
This song was released at a time when I was estranged from my parents. Fortunately we made up before they died.
This song always, always made me cry.
My father is so not approachable.
When he was in hospital, close to death, I tried to patch things up, to initiate a dialogue, and he still rejected me.
He married my stepmother, and his “new” children are his life. The ones from his first marriage are written out of the will with a dollar apiece.
My father is not a nice man, and I decided it was healthier for me not to try anymore.
I know he does not have long to live, but it just does not make sense to be around people who are mean to you.
I hope my decision will still be good when he dies.
Willowtree, yes…very fortunately for all of you….
Psychicgeek, :/…I’m so…so sorry for your circumstances. They aren’t “fair” (and you need to know, I don’t really like that expression, but when it comes to parents and children? well, it just seems to fit here).
I hope you’ll remember to check back for the rest of my story…will it have bearing on yours? Probably not, but, for you, I pray for healing from your circumstance…
Very thoughtful. The other night, while in crisis, how much I create idols out of the wrong things. This life stuff — too hard to go it alone. We need God to point out the little stuff.
You brought back many memories for me of my own relationship with my dad. I can’t say I just tried to keep the peace, but that I wasn’t sure how to bridge the awkward silence we had from not knowing one another.
The good news for me is that when he got cancer, we were forced to spend more time together going to appointments and chemo treatments. When I knew we were facing death, I became more bold and let him in on what I was thinking. I made myself say the things that were so hard to say. And when he died I felt like we had an understanding of each other. We were okay.
Sorry to ramble on so. It’s all your fault, you know!!
Gotta say I like this side of you, Robin. And yeah, we frequent the same places, don’t we? Just so you know, I’ve been lurking around your place a while too. Love your sense of humor. I rarely comment cause I can’t top it. Looking forward to the next installment of this.
I was not on great terms with my dad.
He collapsed and was misdiagnosed as stroke… then he went into a coma.
He had a head injury and no one knew –
a sub dural hematoma, the pressure from it crushed his brain & left him completely disabled inspite of last minute heroic surgical efforts. He lingered in a horrid state for 18 months.. and then he finally died.
During that time he never knew who I was. BUT… when 5 year old Karmyn wandered in… he knew her. Strange, huh?
Your observations of peacekeeping versus peacemaking are profound as are your thoughts about the relationship with your father.
Wow Robin. I can’t put my feelings into words, and I definitely refuse to play victim on someone else’s blog, but I can’t wait to hear your answers to Karmyn’s questions. I struggle greatly with those right now.
It seems all women have struggles in their relationships with their fathers. The tragic part about it all, is that often men don’t have a clue they just don’t have a clue, that their daughters (or wives) are unhappy/unfulfilled. Fathers/men don’t seem to have the same need to verbally disclose and be known the way we do, and therefore they don’t seek it. For men, shared good feelings more often come from shared actions, like going places together, or sports like hunting, fishing, golf, tennis or whatever.
It took me a long time to depersonalize my father’s lack of interest in sharing and listening to my inner life. Now, I share as I feel moved, and let it drop when I don’t have the energy.
With my father’s recent dementia/Alzheimer’s diagnosis, I sense the door may actually closed to further intimacy. On the other hand, I know he feels my heart in my presence, and actually that seems enough.
Thanks for sharing Robin, and stirring up my own thoughts on the matter. Blessings, friend!
What a thoughtful post. And I love that song, and am right there with you. What an interesting perspective about the difference between peacemaker and peacekeeper. Off to read the next post!
Great song, better post:o)