Guest Blogger ... Karen Rabbitt

A Safe Lap

"I will save you from the hands of the wicked and redeem you from the grasp of the cruel." Jeremiah 15:21, NIV

I grew up scared.

Raised on a Midwestern farm, I was afraid of the white geese that hissed in the barnyard when I got too close to their goslings. I feared the monsters concealed in the corners of my bedroom. But the terror of my childhood was my father.

Unlike the monsters I imagined in my room, he grew neither horns nor scales. A practicing Catholic, he looked benign. But I experienced his inner monstrosity the day he drove me to the half-picked cornfield behind our farm house to molest me. I was four. That cruelty induced a constant fear of his lap and his hugs. I learned to keep my distance.

And, mostly, I evaded his clutches. Where was my mother? There, but disengaged. I was alone.

Confused and forlorn, in junior college, I left behind my father’s faith. But I was thirsty for truth. What was solid ground? Was there any safe place?

When I transferred to the University of Illinois, I moved into the third space in a triple in an off-campus rooming house. My Christian roommates often prayed together in my earshot.

One Friday night, I overhead Mercedes praying for Cindy’s school work. “Lord, please help Cindy with her Chaucer paper.”

“Oh, Lord, please help me.” Cindy added her own plea.

I was seated at my desk, my back to them. When they finished, I turned my chair around and

faced them. They were sitting, one on each end, on Mercedes’s bed.

I stared at them. “Uh, do you really think God will help you with writing papers?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mercedes replied. “I was so stuck, last semester, on my philosophy of social science

paper. In the library one day, I prayed and started writing. Before I knew it, I’d written the whole thing, and it all made sense.”

“Really?” That seemed a little too good to be true—God stooping down to write college term papers.

“Maybe it sounds a little too good to be true. But it is true!”

“If you say so.” I bit the inside of my lip. How did she know what I was thinking?

It was Father-God who knew what I was thinking. He was satisfying my thirst.

Two months later, during Christmas break, in the guest room at the farm, I prayed, “Jesus, if you’re there, I want to know about it.” In response, the Holy Spirit settled into my spirit and I was no longer alone. In that moment, I discovered a new father.

In the ensuing thirty-five years, Papa-God has saved me from the cruel grasp of my first father and walked with me on his solid ground. And, slowly, I’ve learned to trust his lap. Because unlike some of our earthly fathers, our forever father’s lap is safe.

Come, there’s a space on his lap just for you.

________________________

Karen Rabbitt, M.S.W., a seasoned psychotherapist, has written for Marriage Partnership and Today’s Christian Woman. This post is excerpted and adapted from her memoir, Trading Fathers: Forgiving Dad, Embracing God (WinePress, 2009).
She also speaks on emotional health with a special emphasis on the forgiveness process. A grandmother, she has been married to Jerry since 1972, lives in Illinois, and attends a Vineyard church. She blogs at www.karenrabbitt.typepad.com More info at www.tradingfathers.com

posted by Margaret McSweeney @ 4:26 AM