When I was 8 or 9 years old, I started taking classical guitar lessons from a little shop in town with an old guy who smelled funny and was really boring. Needless to say, as a kid, I lost interest in my lessons very early on and generally disliked learning to play guitar. I rarely practiced and did not enjoy even being in the studio.
One day my father dropped me off and handed me $20 to pay for my $4 lesson. He made it clear he expected his change when he returned to pick me up. I remember being pretty overwhelmed with the idea of having $20 in my possession and I handled it with care.
After my lesson, I walked out to the truck and my dad immediately asked me for the change. To my horror, I could not find it anywhere. It was like it had just vanished into thin air. My dad was crazy mad and got out of the truck and demanded that I find it. I looked high and low, in the bushes and everywhere I knew to look, but to no avail.
What happened next became etched in my memory even to this day. My dad got back in his truck and said he wouldn't come back for me until I found the money. And then he drove away. I remember sitting on the steps of that dumpy little guitar shop, feeling completely destroyed. The importance of my life had been measured and I was worth $16. All I could do was sit there and cry. No one even noticed me while I wept on those steps.
Eventually my father came back and to be honest I can't even say how long he was gone. It may have only been 5-10 minutes, but it felt like hours to my broken heart. There was no apology, just a "Get in" . I didn't really want to play guitar anymore after that. I suppose that makes sense looking back.
Not long ago my counselor asked me what I did when I had needs as a child. I just looked at her for awhile because I actually did not understand the question. Eventually, all I could say was "I didn't?". Meaning "I had no needs as a child." Her response was "You did."
I have 4 kids of my own. I know how many needs kids have. They have them all the time, every day, many times a day. As a mom, I swear that's all I do sometimes is help my kids with their needs. So as I sat there, I had to really think about what I did when I was a kid. All I could come up with was, "I built forts.", and that is literally what I did. I always had a fort to retreat to when I was overwhelmed or hurt or lonely or felt forgotten.
I had a fort behind my bed, a fort in the back yard at both houses and eventually I turned the 80 acres of streams and woodlands behind my house, into my own private sanctuary when I was in high school. I saw myself as the self-appointed park ranger and I really did take good care of the place. I was out there as much as possible, no matter what time of the year it was. I loved fall the most, but even in winter, I was skating on the frozen pond. I had a purple golf cart that I widened the paths to accommodate. I even built a small bridge for it. It was my refuge.
When I went to college 4 hours away from home, even there, I would feel the call of the woods. Twice I left college right in the middle of the week because I was overwhelmed. I drove home and went out to the woods, just to think and be alone.
What I've realized is at some point in life, I grew tired of feeling forgotten and I chose to be alone rather than feel forgotten any longer. The truth of being endlessly shuffled from babysitter to babysitter can make you feel forgotten. Parents who are endlessly consumed with their own sin can make you feel forgotten. Or worse it can make you feel like a burden. But even my active steps to learn to enjoy being alone did not take away my general sense that "no one is really paying attention to me". "No one actually enjoys me enough to find me and just be with me."
I'm a 45 year old woman and I've spent the last year trying to answer those questions. Perhaps I've spent most of my life trying to answer those questions but only became aware of it recently. But God has been answering those questions for me through good friends, a growing husband, funny kids and long distance relationships.
My father has apologized but more than that he has been faithfully caring for my mother as she slowly descends into Alzhiemer's. I've told him that each day he remains faithful to her, restores a bit of my heart as well. He was not faithful to her in their marriage in more ways than one. But God has been transforming my Father and the proof is in his faithful and sacrificial actions now.
But perhaps God has been speaking to me all along as well? Even during the years at the babysitters houses. In 8th grade the guitar came back to me via a wonderful Christian man and at a time I may have felt more forgotten than anytime in my life. The bully in my face everyday made life completely miserable, but my parents lack of response may have wounded me more. But God brought back the guitar at that moment. This time it was folk guitar with music from Elvis and Johnny Cash. It was fun and alive and brought color into the dark places in my heart.
I see that time as when I actually learned to play guitar. The guitar's companionship is probably a good analogy to how I see the Lord. I loose it for a season, or get too busy, but I know it's always available to me and brings me joy, though re-initiating your calluses each time you pick it back up, is painful. It helps to just keep playing it, so you can keep your calluses and it gets easier to play with practice.
Jesus has walked with me all the way. I just didn't know what He looked like. I am not forgotten nor have I ever been forgotten by the Lord. I may feel lonely at times, but I am never alone.
From where does my help come from? It comes from the Lord.
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