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  • Writer's pictureThe Busy Praying Mom

Dear Dad , I did it without you.

Dear Dad, I used to dream of the day you would get sober. It started when I was in kindergarten. I used to take my mind anywhere else but the house I lived in. I used to sit and play with my dolls, but I didn't play with them like the other little girls did. I would pretend they had a daddy that held them. I Even thought I had and imaginary friend. Of course it was just the voice in my head but that little voice would say I will sit here, let's have tea. I would sit there in my princess dress, playing tea party. Except my green care bear was you. We would play and we would smile. As if I was the one you chose. As I got older I would cut happy little families out of magazines and make them into paper dolls. The dads in the JC Penney catalog were always smiling. The kids were always happy and I never had to hear you and mom fighting. I would sort the paper dolls and create my own little world. The little voice in my head said it is ok. This is what family looks like. Then I grew up some more. Your drinking got worse. The abuse got worse and I couldn't sleep at night anymore. I never knew what was gonna happen when you stumbled into my room. So I started reading books. Happy books. Adventure books. Anything that took me anywhere but there. So there goes that voice again saying let's go to a place where your happy. By this time I was too old for imaginary friends. So of course I was really just talking to myself. But in these books the dads cared. The were heroes. They were brave. They chose to stand up for was right and even defeated a villain or two. It was awesome. Then the book would close and so would my eyes. I got older again. Nothing changed much. Except this time I wasn't sad anymore I was angry. So I listened to music really loud, talked on the phone a

lot , hung out with the wrong people and eventually gave up all hope that you would ever stop doing this to me. Well you know that voice I had been hearing? It was God. It was always God. He was always there. Ready to take me anywhere but the hell I was living in. There were no imaginary friends. There was no me talking to myself. It was always His unending peace and love. Right in front of me. I didn't even see it. I hated you so much that I couldn't even see Him. So I had finally reached the age where I didn't want to take it anymore. But you just called it rebelling. There goes that voice again! Except this time it was different. This time it said "Do everything you can as dangerously as you can. You are unworthy. You are worthless. You are ugly. You are dirty. You are broken. You are crazy. No one loves you. No one has ever loved you. No one is ever going to love you. So hurry up! Go find someone who does." See this wasn't God. No. This was Satan. The enemy himself had found his way into my heart. He disguised himself as that voice because he knew I would listen. So that's what I did. I clung on to the first guy that told me he loved me and I gave it all away. I ran away with him to start a young life as if I was doing something amazing. I thought I had found love, and found my escape all at the same time. It was the perfect setup. And I fell for it. Like the broken mess I was, I went on from one to toxic relationship after another. Until I Found Jesus. Until I realized that My Father was there the entire time. You see dad I didn't need you at all. I wanted you. But I didn't need you. At least not anymore. Because this voice I speak of. He is my Father. He is my God. He is not imaginary, but he is my friend. He holds me when I cry. He tells me when I am being stubborn. He corrects when I am wrong. I am his only addiction. And He is mine. I am worthy. I am brave. I am healed. No more chains. Dad....I am no longer that little girl that you can hurt. I am no longer that grown woman that wants you to hurt. I have the greatest Father there is. I grew up. I am a woman now. I am a mother. I am a damn good one. I am a friend. I play tea party whenever they want. We make paper dolls and we read books and we talk to Jesus instead of ourselves. I make good choices. I am successful. Jesus picked up your mess and He put it back together. He even did it all while living you too. I hope to see you in heaven. I pray for you everyday. I have forgiven you. But the memories I wish I could forget. Every once in awhile when the anxiety is high. He takes me to a happy place. I did it dad. I did it without you. Sincerely Your Redeemed Daughter.

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