Wednesday, July 02, 2008


No, this is not going to be political. Sorry, Jens. I know the title might be a bit misleading with the upcoming holiday and I apologize. The following is honest, open discussion.

Yesterday was my dad's birthday and I went out to my parents house to eat dinner and celebrate. Dinner in the Garcia house is pretty fun, as you can imagine. We all talk at the same time, we laugh at each other, we laugh with each other, and generally drive Mom and Dad crazy. It was a typical night and I was enjoying myself fully. Caroline showed me some hilarious youtube videos. Click here for an example. We watched NCSI as a family and then the Braves play Pittsburgh. Yes, a typical family night.

As the evening progressed, Mom and I moved to the kitchen and we talked about school. I was excited to share my news about registration, my major, and my classes. The conversation turned to clothes, food, and diets. I will admit that I am the stereo-typical girl and I do struggle with image and weight issues. The evening was on a slippery slope at this point. My laughter and excitement turned to tears and frustration. I admitted to my mother that I felt like there was a possibility that I was depressed. However, I knew from previous talks with my doctor that physical dysfunctions such as high thyroid levels could affect the hormones that cause depression. I told my mom that I wasn't happy and she told me that wasn't something that she didn't know. Thank you, Mother. Of course she knew.

As I continued to explain to her what I thought the problem was, she insisted on calling my dad over. Now, if you know me well or have read this blog in any detail, you know that I adore my father. Inasmuch as I adore him, it is often difficult for me to share things with him or for us to understand one another the way we mean to be understood. However, dad came over and I shared a great deal. I talked about my job, my past relationship, my faith, my weaknesses, my strengths, and much more. I laughed, I cried, but Cats was probably better. I'm not gonna lie.

The two most important thoughts that I shared were 1) my knowledge of the cross and 2) my Independence. By "knowledge of the cross", I mean that I understand and believe with every fiber in my being that Jesus died on the cross for me. His grace is sufficient. I know that I have been blessed beyond compare and that gives me every reason to be happy and joyful. I have all the head knowledge and scripture. Dad had to remind me that it was more than knowing in your head and almost more than knowing in your heart. You have to know in your heart, mind, and soul that Jesus provides your identity. It's more than reading your bible and praying if you are only going through the motions. You have to do it because it is personal to you. He reminded me that it is spiritual warfare and that you have to fight to resist discouragement and untruths. I am so blessed and grateful beyond what I can express with words for a dad who is willing to preach the gospel to me when I am discouraged.

The second thought that I shared was my Independence. As much as I fight being helped in any way, and I do mean any way, there are times when I need to know that someone, namely my dad, wants to take care of me. I need to know that he would drop whatever he is doing to jump to my rescue. I am not talking about silly things like I had a bad day and I need a hug. But I am talking about my car breaking down or my head being split open. I just need to know that someone wants to take care of me. My poor mother was crying at this point. Here I am crying and saying that there are times when I feel painfully alone and she is bawling her eyes out. I am sure I will one day know what it feels like to hear a child say that and I will cry too, but I felt sad that I had made her sad.

At any rate, once all the emotion was out, I felt better. Dad continued to tell me of God's love for me and offer me advice. His most consistent advice being discipline. If you know my dad, that should not be surprising at all.

After a bit, Sarah Ann (number three) came in and needed help with her English paper, at which point I offered, with hesitance, my assistance. Helping Sa Sa with school work is difficult for me to do as our personalities are vastly different. However, we got through it and I went on my thoughtful way home after a hug and a kiss from Mom.

I arrived home to find that I had a flat tire and then proceeded to lock my keys in my car. Brilliant, I know. I called my daddy, crying of course, and he promised to come first thing in the morning.

So, much for independence.

1 comment:

Tanner said...

I hope to have a relationship like this with my daughter one day. Paul is already quite an inspiration to me.