Father’s day freedom

Bootcamp style workouts aren’t fun. But they are effective. And did I mention painful? And sweaty?

My new group links arms and prays after each session.

On Friday morning, I was soaked in sweat - my usual state after a workout. I always feel a bit sorry for the person who stands next to me and then slaps their arm on my sweaty t=shirt for prayer.

Then I noticed drops of water running down my hat.

I was spending my effort being self-conscious rather than listening to the prayer.

I threw my hat down on the turf to protect my brothers form additional disgust.

But it was rain.

I got a reminder that not everything is about me.

Not everything is in my control.

Sweat might actually be rain.

And what is happening TO me might actually be happening FOR me.

When I first got Jude’s diagnosis, I spun out. I was mad at God. I was mad at myself. I kept thinking it was punishment.

I needed a reason to make myself feel better, so my undisciplined thoughts went something like this:

• God’s getting me back for partying - drinking, getting high, smoking - when I was younger.

• This is probably because in the 90s I used to say the word “retard” or “retarded” as a joke.

• This is because I used women in the past.

• One time we took Jude to a super hot football game in August. Maybe that is the real problem.

I was searching for a simple, singular explanation that didn’t exist.

I was searching for a way to put all the blame on my back and carry it for my family.

I became my own god, coming up with all the reasons and the answers. Fighting the battle alone.

I kept forgetting that God wasn’t surprised by the diagnosis even though I certainly was.

But here’s what I want special needs dads to know.

Here’s what you need to know to be free.

Here’s what you need to know to begin to heal.

Here’s the Father’s Day Gift.

It’s not your fault, dad.

It is out of your control or influence.

It’s nothing you did or didn’t do.

It’s not punishment for being you. Or sin.

It’s not sweat. It’s rain.

It’s bigger than you.

So throw down the weight you’re carrying.

Rest.

Happy Father’s Day.