The house that my family moved into after the wedding was the biggest house I had ever seen. It had been built during the civil war and it’s rooms were so gigantic there was no way to have enough furniture to fill them. It was huge, but it was old and the brisk winter wind could be felt if you stood next to an outside wall. We still only had one bathroom but, I had a whole bedroom for myself and a big swing that was tied to a limb in the front yard. My grandpa built me a set of bunk beds that went in one corner of my room and I had two windows, one that looked out over the front yard and one over the back yard. It was really cool house. We got to live in it because dad had just started farming the land of the man that owned it, and the house was a part of the deal. Things seemed to be moving in right along for our new little family.
And then, just as we were beginning the adoption proceedings, it came to our attention that my biological father was not too keen on handing over his parental rights. Non-existent for the first four years of my life, he now was demanding that courts order him visitation rights to a son he had never met.
As you can imagine, this was all very difficult for a four year old boy to process and deal with, but I would try to make the best of it. Our first visit to my biological father’s home was actually to his parents house. I remember that mom and dad sat on a big front porch with my biological family while I played with a brand new Big Wheel tricycle in the driveway. I had never had a Big Wheel and it was quite fun trying to recreate the moves that I had seen on TV. Every Saturday for the next few years I would wake up and be transported over to a home of a family I didn’t know. They bought me toys: dart guns, GI Joes and even an Atari 2600, all of which, I was told would have to stay at their house. Even though they were for me, if I ever wanted to play with them, I would have to come over there. That seemed peculiar to me, a gift is a gift and I should be able to do with it whatever I wished. With Danny, toys given to me were mine to play with when I came over to his house, but he never would have dreamed of using them as a tool to manipulate me in this way. One felt like love, the other just felt dirty. Even still, forty years later I don’t know how I could sense the difference, but I did.
As the weeks passed on I became less and less comfortable at my biological father’s family home. I would ask if I could go home early, and most of the time they graciously granted my request. I tried to spend as little time over there as I could. I just didn’t feel safe. I’m not sure when they started, but soon I began to have some of the most horrific dreams.
It was a recurring dream that someone was climbing up a ladder to my second floor window in order to steal me away from my new family. I would wake up screaming and terrified. I didn’t have the words to describe what was happening to me then, but looking back it was clear I was having panic attacks. There in the safety of my own bed surrounded by my favorite stuffed animals my breath rate would increase, my heart would race, and tears would flow down my face. I can recall both mom and dad sitting on my bed trying to get me to control my breathing and calm down, reassuring me of their presence and making sure I knew I was safe.
On countless nights they would sit with me in my room with the lights on until I fell asleep, only leaving the room when they were convinced I had drifted off. Over time, as my symptoms improved they would sit with the lights out, and then later in the hallway with my door open. They were so gracious and patient to reassure me every time the panic set in and fear took over. Little kids aren’t born with the ability to process these sorts of things. Come to think of it, none of us are, regardless of how old you get. The world still has a way of throwing you into some pretty crummy situations, and then not equipping you with the tools to deal with them.
I am reminded of how God spoke to the Israelites through Isaiah. How for the first 39 chapters of the book He talks about how judgment and exile were coming. It wasn’t a pretty picture, but beginning in chapter 40 the tone changes. It turns to comfort.
“But you, Israel, my servant, Jacob, whom I have chosen, you descendants of Abraham my friend, I took you from the ends of the earth, from its farthest corners I called you. I said, ‘You are my servant’; I have chosen you and have not rejected you. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. “All who rage against you will surely be ashamed and disgraced; those who oppose you will be as nothing and perish. Though you search for your enemies, you will not find them. Those who wage war against you will be as nothing at all. For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. Isaiah 41:8-13
He reminds them that He has chosen them. They are His. He reminds them they don’t need to be afraid. All who opposed them would be put to shame. He would fight for them. He would help them.
And my parents never stopped fighting. The custody battle raged on for two years. It would span my starting grade school and karate classes, learning to swim and my first crush.
Then one day, I remember coming out of my bedroom and seeing Danny dressed up and coming down the hallway. He was off to yet another day in court. He was wearing a suit and pointy-toed boots. It was the type of get-up he only wore to church and to court. I asked him why his boots were pointy. He told me that he wore that style of boot in case anyone in court got out of line, he could kick them with the pointy part and it would hurt more. I offered my services as well, I was taking karate after all. He told me thanks, but no. He would fight this battle.
Forty years later as I type those words I’m reminded of how Moses spoke to Joshua when they found themselves facing a promised land filled with fortified cities and men that looked like giants. It was so daunting to Joshua. Would God do though him what he had done through Moses? Would God show up now? Then Moses reminded Joshua that just as God had done before, he would continue to do now, and even though Moses could not lead the Israelites into the conquest, they needed to rest in the comfort of knowing that God would fight for them. They only needed to be still.
“You have seen with your own eyes all that the Lord your God has done to these two kings. The Lord will do the same to all the kingdoms over there where you are going. Do not be afraid of them; the Lord your God himself will fight for you.” Deuteronomy 3:21-22
I don’t know what conquest is in front of you. I don’t know what difficult circumstance is currently standing in your way, or what fear might be keeping you from becoming the man or woman God is calling you to be. I don’t know what races through your mind when you have your panic attacks laying in your bed at night.
But I do know that God has called you His own. He has adopted you into his family, and once that has taken place it can never be revoked. Yes, we will face battles along the way, no it will not be easy, but he promises that he will never leave you or forsake you.
He promises to fight for you. And He’s wearing his pointy toed shoes!
Jeremy Powell 