I haven’t posted in a while, and it was slightly due to hesitancy of posting this story. God has been tugging on my heart to share this for someone who needs it. Below is a story that I never thought I would write. It’s a story that I once believed was unhealthy to talk about, but God is showing me each day that this outlines the gospel (true love). Here we go:
A few weeks before Father’s day (2018), I was at home praying over the countries that I will be traveling to on the World Race. I was trying to be intentional about researching the needs of each country and specifically praying for the people and the issues they are facing. As I sat there talking to God about the people of my WR countries, “I love your dad” came to my mind. Now y’all, my father is not someone who crosses my mind often. In fact if there’s an effort made when dealing with my father, it’s the effort to forget (terrible to say, but I’m being 100% with you) Of course as the thought popped in my mind, I shoved it away. I continued to pray for the people of my WR countries—and again, the only thought in my mind was “I love your dad.”
At this point, I was a little irritated because I didn’t want to think about my dad. I had moved forward with my life and that was that. But three or four times that day, the thought kept coming to mind: “I love your dad.”
Over the last year, I’ve started to see how prayer is just as much about listening as it is about speaking.
I decided to research which prison my father is in—well there’s a mic drop moment for you.
My father has been in and out of jails and prisons since I was 15 years old. The memories I do have of him are either awesome or difficult to think about even as I type this. All that to say, I didn’t understand why God would bring up something I haven’t thought about in years nor wanted to. Why? It didn’t seem healthy.
As I reviewed the prison visitation form, I noticed that it took 30-45 days to be approved, which quite frankly was a relief because I was uneasy about the situation anyways.
For the next few days, I kept going back and forth with the idea of seeing the man who had caused my family so much pain. I was afraid of seeing him. I had kept him in my past. I had forgiven him and moved on, and I was nervous to resurface those feelings.
Two Fridays before Father’s Day, I decided to apply to visit him. I didn’t know what our conversations would be about, if I would hug him, or even if I would regret going. All I knew was that God loved him, and I was going to go tell him just that: God loves you.
So I filled out my application and placed it in the mail. YIKES. (insert nervous laughter here)
I called the prison to ask specifically how long it took to process, and they confirmed that it took at least 30 and up to 45 days.
Over the weekend, I began reflecting on memories with my dad—some good, some not. By Monday, I started feeling an urgency to see him. I called again and asked a different person how long it took to process a visitation form. She confirmed, like the person from Friday, that it takes atleast 30 days and up to 45.
Over the next four days, I called every single day asking if they had received my application and how long the process would take—while praying for a different answer. Even though they kept telling me no, I just knew I was going to see him for Father’s Day.
On the Friday morning before Father’s Day, I called, and yet again, they told me that it wasn’t possible. Refusing to give up, I called at 4:50pm (right before they closed), and a lady who I had spoken with a few times over the week answered the phone. I asked her if my application was approved and how it was really important that I saw my dad for Father’s Day. As I waited a few minutes, she then said “Ms. London, your application has been approved.”
Whatttt?!? I couldn’t overthink it. I just had to go and tell him what God had been telling me over the last week.
I woke up early the next morning and started driving toward the address in my GPS. Over the next few hours of driving, emotions from the past began surfacing up. To be honest, I had to pull over twice because I was getting sick from the nerves and couldn’t stop crying. What in the world was I doing? Why was I trying so hard to see the one man who I refused to even mention existed for years. All I knew was that I was going to tell my dad that God loves him. Ughhh. Plenty of people in my family. Why me? I’m not ready. He doesn’t deserve my time. How could he do those things? He’s the one who left. He’s the one who chose to go down that path. And I promise you, guys. The very next thing that came to mind was “I love your dad.”
When I got to the prison, I had wiped away my tears and decided to “act like a boss” by putting my chin up and power walking to him; however, it didn’t really go that smoothly. As I walked up to the counter, I couldn’t stop shaking. I was fighting tears. I was on edge just saying his name to the lady at the counter. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to go home. As I stood there being patted down by security, I prayed. I asked God to open my eyes to see what He wanted me to see. I asked God to make our conversation about Jesus. I asked God to protect me. I reminded myself that dad is a child of God and needs to feel the love that only comes from God. I remembered my purpose for being there.
I walked to the sitting area and waited for my dad.
I felt confused. Was I supposed to run up and hug him? Wave him over? Sit there and just wait as he walked up? I thought of the parable in Luke about the prodigal son.
As my dad walked up with a timidness, I wrapped my arms around him, gave him a giant hug and offered him the meal that I had brought.
You see.. my application had been approved in less than seven days, which was not the norm, so my dad was never informed. He had no idea that I was coming. No one had visited him in years.
My dad had hurt our family. My dad had hurt me.
As I sat there across from the man who had continuously let me down, it clicked.
I am my father. We all are.
“We all sin and fall short of God’s glorious standard.” (Romans 3:23)
When we continuously sin, we are continuously letting God down.
Have you ever lied, cheated, lusted, stolen… or any other form of sin? I could go on and on. Of course, you have.
But how does God react to our sin? With grace and love– He sent Jesus to die for our sins, so we can have eternal life with Him. (John 3:16) This was the ultimate act of love.
We are all my dad on the other end of the table- undeserving of God’s love, but yet He still fights for us.
Before you question how to treat or act around someone who has wronged you, take a look in the mirror at your own faults- your own sin and approach each person in your life with grace and love.
Verse of the week: “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8
Songs of the week: Reckless Love by Cory Asbury // My God Fights for Me by Micah Tyler, Kaden Slay, Charity Gayle
Hit subscribe at the top.
Love y’all!
