Daddy cool

It really is strange hanging out with the one person I've been known to take after.

My rotten temper, aggressiveness and ability to overthink things have always been attributed to my dad. I've lived most of my life trying to play these vices down, burying them deep within me so they wouldn't show on the outside. People were scared of that, and all I wanted was to be loved, to be accepted.

But I've realized that it isn't fair. There are many great things that I got from my dad. By the grace of God, I inherited his honesty. His intelligence. His ability to rationalize life, and the things around him. And let's not forget his paralyzing sense of humor. I learned to be courageous from him, to dream BIG in life and to never rest on my laurels.

Nevertheless, by shoving the unpretty parts I got my from my dad, I unknowingly subdued the entirety of my father's existence in my own life and denied myself of the person God had created me to be.

As I hung out with him today, it was like looking at a mirror. We were both connoisseurs of introspection, and the way we partook of it was similar. It's uncanny, and it freaks me out sometimes.

Honestly, if you ask me, I'm really scared. I'm afraid of coming to terms with the resurfacing pieces of myself that I've kept hidden for so long.

My dad isn't the best father in the world. He's made mistakes; some of which have rubbed off in my life. And I think it's pretty obvious that he's really not perfect. And so am I.

But he's my dad, and he is in that part of me that God knitted into me when I was created. It is beautiful. It deserves to be acknowledged, it deserves to be embraced, and it deserves to be cared for. God created me wonderfully and fearfully, just as he did with everyone else.

Sometimes I feel like I don't fit in, because these traits I inherited aren't exactly likeable. Admit it, no one likes a know-it-all, which I am frequently found guilty of being. No one is in favor of the Devil's advocate, which I often am, because I like pulling things from beneath the rug and talking about them. Silence is something I have become fond of, because people seem to be afraid when I speak boldly about the things I believe in, or because what ensues is the consequences of my speech.

I wasn't made to be somebody else. I was made in such a way, for an intended purpose.

However, that doesn't mean I stay this way forever. When I became a follower of Christ, I died to myself. I decided to give up the liberty of living my life, my way and let Him shape my life the way He has called for it to be. I don't deny the fact that I have inherited some of the vices my dad, and perhaps even the entirety of my dad's family has held onto.

I have so much more to learn, and so much more to grow.

I need to, and want to grow in the fruits of the Spirit.

I want to let go of the horrendous anger I deal with on a regular basis.

I want to freely love, without fear of what others think about me.

I want to be honest, but say it out of love and not condemnation, or self-righteousness.

I know that in order for these things to be mended and molded by the hands of God, I need to realize that I have this part of me, and it is there for a purpose.

And now I do. I will not deny myself of these things, and let God work through me.

Two things today:

1. My dad isn't perfect, and I have a part of him that is now acknowledged and embraced.

2. I was wonderfully and fearfully made, for a PURPOSE. God will use whatever that is in me, for His glory. Regardless of the good and the bad, He will transform it for the better.

I truly am grateful, for both my earthly and Heavenly Father. I couldn't ask for more.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 

- Romans 8:28