Journal Entry 54: Master and Apprentice

Jesus, if you’re not in it, I don’t want it.

Journal Entry 54: Master and Apprentice

I'm standing in my kitchen at work, listening to a scene within a good book, and tears form in my eyes. My eyes are waterlogging, because the scene screams of a desire within my own life. The character in the scene has zeal for her job, her task, but she sucks at it. She can't seem to get it right almost to the point of believing she'll never get it right. Then the moment arrives where if she fails this time she fails her entire family, and so she must get it right. She doesn't. She fails the first try. But then, about to try again already feeling like she's doomed not only herself but her family as well, a master of the skill shows up. The master doesn't solve the problem for our would-be-hero, no, he coaches her through it with a confident and strong voice. She listens to him, and she gets it right. Her next try isn't perfect, but it didn't have to be perfect. What she needed was someone to come alongside her and prove to her that she was in fact capable.

My tears for this woman, for the scene, were for my desperate desire to have Jesus come alongside me, the master of it all, and guide me.

There’s an ache inside of me for someone who cares about me, someone who loves me, to teach me. I would certainly take Jesus up if he offered, but I don’t think Jesus is going to show up at my kitchen table for a budget meeting. I want him to, but it hasn’t happened yet.

I don’t want to be a self-made-man. There’s only pain and loneliness in such a title. I know that path, I’ve known it most of my life. The lone wolf that learns to survive on his own, do things on his own, rely on himself, is a depressed, hard, animal that eventually dies. I don’t know what happened to my dad, but somewhere in the battle to raise three sons, I was kind of just forgotten. I love my dad, and I know he loves me. The problem is, when I moved out, my dad checked out.

Once I moved out, my dad kind of became a random event that I saw on the holidays or when I desperately needed him to help me fix my car. (My dad’s a master mechanic, title and trophy to prove it.) My older brothers got my dad’s focus, sometimes good and sometimes thanks to stupid, went to jail, reasons. I didn’t get in trouble with the law, I didn’t come running back home for support, and so my dad just kind of, I guess, figured I didn’t need him, maybe. My brothers kids got my dad’s affection and efforts to be their grandfather. My kids, sadly, barely know their grandfather/my dad. I think this is one of the main reasons scenes like the one described above hurt me.

Dads are supposed to teach their sons, guide them, and be there for them, not as a crutch, but as a helping hand and a wise teacher. My dad, for reasons I’m not truly sure of, gave his focus to my older brothers, was hurt in return several times by them, and just kind of checked out. When I bought my first car off the car lot, I did it without him. When I bought my first house, a blessing that Jesus was certainly part of, I did it without my dad’s wisdom or help. Jesus was there, he helped me big time in several ways, and for that I’m thankful. When I had to learn plumbing, electrical, wood craft, and appliance repair to keep my home up and running, he never had the time to come show me. I learned most of what I know from researching this stuff on YouTube, Google, and then on hands experience.

My first marriage was a nightmare of a realm, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I still fill like there was things I could’ve done, things that could have helped. The end result was a fallout that messed up my life, my kids, and eventually destroyed their mother as she dove into darkness head first. What happened to us? Why did it turn out SO bad? Why couldn’t someone help us?

Trying to better myself, I went back to school. I had to go to online school seeing as I was a family man with little time, but I did it. I got a bachelors in business, and became a single father shortly after. Deep in the struggle, fighting alcohol addiction, depression, and just trying to survive, I went back to school for my masters. Jesus rescued me from my dependance on alcohol, pulled me up out of my suffocating depression, and I got my master’s degree as a single father. I was up all-night surviving on Jesus and coffee, caring for 5 kids, working a full-time job, taking care of a home, and I got my masters degree. I did it, and the people around me congratulated me afterwards. They told me it was crazy how I’d managed to pull it off. If they were so amazed, I thought, why didn’t anyone of you help me!?

I did it all, on my own.

I was writing this, and I had to stop. I stopped, because I had to go to work. Now back, I know how to finish this article.

You see, I'm lying to myself. My father did and has checked out. I don't have some master or wise old sage helping me. This is sadly true. But I'm still lying to myself, because I've never been on my own. The truth is Jesus has been with me every step of the way.

When I held a gun to my head and couldn’t pull the trigger, because I didn't want my dad to come home and see his son bloodied on the floor. Jesus was there.

Three years later as I cried out to Jesus for his love and forgiveness, Jesus met me there. He hugged me, a teenager that had rarely known affection, Jesus hugged.

In my mid-twenties as I went against God and bound myself into a sexual relationship outside of marriage, Jesus still blessed me with children. Children that would change my life.

My home became a blessing with a whole story behind it.

Raine, my miracle child, Jesus answered prayers for.

As a single father, Jesus rescued me and kept the lights on with food on the table.

Graduating with a master’s degree against the odds, Jesus and coffee got me there.

Given up on marriage, single for life, I thought. Jesus put a beautiful woman in my way, and I married her the moment she was willing.

Father, husband, homeowner, and entrepreneur, with writing in the mix, Jesus is and has always been with me.

I forget sometimes just how much Jesus is in my life. He's been coaching me, guiding me, this whole time. I just need to do a better job of listening.

The scene mentioned up top moved me, because I had forgotten I have a mentor already. Jesus isn't big on showing up physically and patting me on the back. That would be something. But he is here, and if I listen for him I'll hear him coaching me along.

A Last Note: For those of you that have wise sages in your life, active fathers or mentors of some sort, thank them. Don't take them for granted. I would still love for my dad to show up sometimes and share his wisdom with me.

These journals I write are my own way of reaching out and hopefully helping others. These are my personal experiences, the only thing I'm qualified to speak on, so I do. Hopefully they will help.

Trust that Jesus Loves You.