I failed my father. All I wanted was affirmation.

I thought the Father was going to bring me to memories of my sister's death or my boyfriend's death-- but was surprised to see He brought me to a different memory entirely, one that goes much deeper. After all, I am very aware of His presence and consolation around my times of grieving. This was different.

He brought up some very painful memories of my teen years. Many years when I felt very alone and unloved and felt completely condemned by my father. Years where I had started getting into trouble. I had started using my dad's credit card without him knowing and spending his money-- then lied about it!

He went to the extreme of reporting the theft to the police, in which a detective had to inform him that the thief was his own daughter. It was an extremely dark time as he would come into my room at night and lecture me for what felt like hours and I would hide in my bed under the covers absolutely terrified. Sometimes my mom would join him. I felt like I was in front of the Heavenly court itself.

I was more afraid of the condemnation then I was of anything else.

More than that, I went from being his "golden child" to feeling like he now saw me as an evil criminal. I never really recovered from it. I felt he never looked at me the same and that suddenly I was publicly exposed for being "bad" inside-- not the good girl that I had always tried to be.

I remember it was one of the first times I could recall him telling me he loved me-- but in the context I felt like he was saying the exact opposite.

The saddest part of it was that I had stolen the money to pay for an editor/ghostwriter to help me write a book, something that he had been telling me to do since I was a child saying that I could be a "famous writer." The greatest desire in my heart was to get some sort of praise and affirmation, something my parents very rarely gave.

This inner feeling that maybe I was "bad" inside and had utterly failed to meet any of his expectations has haunted me for many years and caused me to allow so much abuse and cruelty, as if I thought I needed to be punished. I allowed myself to be sexually abused, financially used, physically abused-- I surrounded myself with criminals who had literally next to no conscience. Because some part of me felt that either it was where I belonged or that my redemption required me to see close up if we were really the same or different. It was like I was trying to prove to myself that I wasn't like them, or if I could see good in them, then there was good in me.

I felt God inviting me to see His love and grace in the moment. That He was giving me an opportunity to receive His mercy there and to erase the false identity of being "bad." Two times during the day I had people mention to me the same words -- "that making mistakes is how we learn." That nobody is perfect.

More than that, the sense of His mercy -- that He didn't condemn me, that my dad isn't God, that I am good enough as I am and don't need to earn His love, has started to enter my heart.

I am very thankful for the experience and see this as the beginning of some very deep healing of my soul.