A Son’s Perspective

My father has undergone such an extreme change over the past three decades that it would be fair to say I’ve had two or three fathers since I was born. And I’m not kidding, other than the fact he still inhabits the same body, if you knew him 30 years ago, then met him again today, you would have no idea you were talking to the same person.

What do I remember about childhood? Terror, really. I had to walk on egg shells around my dad, and it didn’t always help. The simple act of walking in front of the television screen would send him into such a conniption that the US Geological Survey probably had to recalibrate their Richter scales afterward. He was largely self-concerned and selfish. I don’t remember us exchanging any words other than him telling me to “do the dishes” until I was eleven or twelve. I remember frequent panic attacks about his work and the family’s finances, even if they seemed to be doing well. Screaming matches between him and my mother were not uncommon. I often wondered how it was they managed to not get a divorce at times. He could spit acidic words like it was second nature.

Then something started to change, and the change became more and more extreme.

He went from being an unholy terror, to calming a bit. He still had issues and occasional outbreaks of insanity, or would be suicidal for a bit, but it happened less often. We actually started having conversations instead of him giving commands and me quietly obeying them. We actually started forming a relationship.

But the change didn’t stop there. As time went on, situations that would have necessitated a trip to a psychiatric institution proved to be merely a small annoyance. He actually started laughing and being a truly happy and joyous person. What would previously have been addressed with acidic words and yelling were handled in a cool, calm, and reasoned demeanor. The interesting thing was, you could tell he wasn’t forcing it. He was literally changing from the inside out.

What was it that caused this change? In short, desperation. He was so tired of being what he was that he would have given anything to change. He had emotionally hit rock-bottom, and was so tired of being terrorized by himself that any option or hope of change was a good one.

God began showing him why it was he acted the way he acted, and why he thought the way he thought. God showed him why his emotions would spiral out of control. God showed my father the truth about Himself, and in that revelation God showed my dad the truth about his own inner workings.

God taught my father how it was that God intended to bring us into the full manifestation of what God had intended, and God started that process of bringing the very likeness of Christ into the mind, heart and body of my father. The change is really beyond what I can adequately convey here, as what I saw simply transcends the capacity of words to explain.

He is no longer experiencing a nightmare but the life God intended.

A Son’s Perspective

My father has undergone such an extreme change over the past three decades that it would be fair to say I’ve had two or three fathers since I was born. And I’m not kidding, other than the fact he still inhabits the same body, if you knew him 30 years ago, then met him again today, you would have no idea you were talking to the same person.

What do I remember about childhood? Terror, really. I had to walk on egg shells around my dad, and it didn’t always help. The simple act of walking in front of the television screen would send him into such a conniption that the US Geological Survey probably had to recalibrate their Richter scales afterward. He was largely self-concerned and selfish. I don’t remember us exchanging any words other than him telling me to “do the dishes” until I was eleven or twelve. I remember frequent panic attacks about his work and the family’s finances, even if they seemed to be doing well. Screaming matches between him and my mother were not uncommon. I often wondered how it was they managed to not get a divorce at times. He could spit acidic words like it was second nature.

Then something started to change, and the change became more and more extreme.

He went from being an unholy terror, to calming a bit. He still had issues and occasional outbreaks of insanity, or would be suicidal for a bit, but it happened less often. We actually started having conversations instead of him giving commands and me quietly obeying them. We actually started forming a relationship.

But the change didn’t stop there. As time went on, situations that would have necessitated a trip to a psychiatric institution proved to be merely a small annoyance. He actually started laughing and being a truly happy and joyous person. What would previously have been addressed with acidic words and yelling were handled in a cool, calm, and reasoned demeanor. The interesting thing was, you could tell he wasn’t forcing it. He was literally changing from the inside out.

What was it that caused this change? In short, desperation. He was so tired of being what he was that he would have given anything to change. He had emotionally hit rock-bottom, and was so tired of being terrorized by himself that any option or hope of change was a good one.

God began showing him why it was he acted the way he acted, and why he thought the way he thought. God showed him why his emotions would spiral out of control. God showed my father the truth about Himself, and in that revelation God showed my dad the truth about his own inner workings.

God taught my father how it was that God intended to bring us into the full manifestation of what God had intended, and God started that process of bringing the very likeness of Christ into the mind, heart and body of my father. The change is really beyond what I can adequately convey here, as what I saw simply transcends the capacity of words to explain.

He is no longer experiencing a nightmare but the life God intended.

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