it had been a crazy week, there was only one subject I had dreaded them teaching on, something that had paralyzed me with fear for years and I had successfully avoided dealing with, I had always been able to run, get plastered or simply switch off if there was really no way to leave the room or at very least the conversation.
This weeks teaching was on inner healing, not the new age stuff it sounds, it was quite simply emotional wounds that run so deep they affect your life, instigate irrational fears (and quite often behaviors) and create lies about yourself, distorted self perspective.
It had been 15 years and i had blocked it out to the point i couldn't really remember his face for a longtime, i couldn't really remember much of him, but whatever they had been a whole bunch of feeling that I wasn't about to go near, something so deep I didn't know how to deal with it if I tried.
The idea of calling god father had always been an impossible thing, with one dead and one denying I was his and having no part why would you put god with all those feelings, I knew god was good I knew he was there so why call him father?
Wednesdays class was the can opener, talking about memories and suppressing them things you have blocked out and recalling memories that had attached fears, they were asking me to think about stuff that belonged buried, how dare they go there or make me think about it, before the class was out i was checking my pockets, I ran upstairs grabbed some cash and escaped, in my mind I wrestled with the fact that i should be not only eating dinner as i hadn't signed my name off but i should be serving dinner on the cooking team, that I had an India meeting. But none of it mattered I was off. stopping dead about 10m before the bar, what was I thinking? tough, I went in ordered a large baileys - over ice (Spanish large baileys is about a glass full) sat down opened my journal and with it my head, I wrote about 10 pages over a few drinks and pushed aside the care as I put my euros in the cigarette machine. The question burned in my mind 'where were you?' as I thought and asked things of god I had never dared. I was drinking, smoking and wagging missionary school 'do you still love me now?'
Part of me feared this new territory in my relationship with god, and also a horrid realisation that with one of the questions and lines of thought, i didn't fully trust god, 'how can i trust you if i think you let him die?' had I come back to you with this suppressed? was our relationship built on a set of floorboards?
I went through my past that night everything I had ever pushed away, every relationship and pain, the 'fear of man' and pride they had talked about, where did that come from? I dissected everything but then that was processing with my mind and not the holy spirit, information wont change your life revelation will. WHO DO YOU SAY I AM?
As I sat there in that bar there was a sad freedom within a pile of chains the ciggarettes, the drinks the desire to up and leave in an exciting screw the world kinda fashion plane train or automobile lets see where we end up kind of way but there was greater freedom than this, there was indeed stuff you brought me here to deal with. I finished that night with three questions...
who do you say i am?
why have you brought me here?
why should i call you father?
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