Music to my ears as we planned to drive to Georgia this weekend. The hustle of getting snacks, washing clothes, and packing bags all before a proposed deadline that we never make. Even after all of us are presumed to be ready, we each run back in the house for the next 30 minutes collecting necessities that we forgot in our rush. We are notorious for leaving the house later than projected, it’s something that we continually joke about.
Growing up driving across the country I look forward to the entire family jumping in a car and getting closer as we sing and conversate. I rode with both my brother’s and Edmond’s fiancé, switching drivers every three or four hours to complete an eight-hour drive. I can think of a better way to get closer to my family other than a road trip, I have always said that’s why the six of us are so close.
I should’ve written this blog while in the car, but I don’t get a chance to read like I used to, so I used the ride to dive into my usual thriller. This one was a Scot Harvath novel by the author Brad Thor, he was the first one I read in this genre of political thrillers. They are clandestine operations under the CIA seal or another equally created organization that discreetly changes the world by defending or creating seemingly random events.
It’s beautiful to read, and very intriguing. I read about 200 pages in total and wish I had more time so that I could finish the 80 or so pages that I have left. I remember the days where I would lock myself in my room and just read all day only leaving to eat and play basketball. A lot of my childhood was spent flipping pages ingesting words, phrases, and traveling to places that I pictured in my head. It’s one of the main reasons why I started wanting to become an author, the other was that I couldn’t control how the book ended or progressed.
The book I’m currently writing is the fourth book that I’ve started since I was a child, the first two barely had a plot, only characters. I tried to mimic what I was already reading and put my own twist to it. The third was a watered-down version of the book I’m currently writing, before I started to dive into my craft and learn more about what I really wanted to portray. It’d truly an amazing experience, the short story series I’m writing is my first although I do have some created already. My dad and I were talking about the beauty in the ability to be able to depict lives and trues through words on a page.
When I told people that my favorite thing to do on a road trip was to read, I remember teachers and others telling me that they would get car sickness. I vehemently prayed that I never succumb to something as drastic, just like I used to pray that I never lose my love for reading. I’m not sure why I feared that or thought that it could happen, maybe because it wasn’t the coolest thing or maybe another reason, but I still pray that same prayer before I start any book.
Speaking of prayer, I struggled in my spiritual walk this past week. I stumbled, hard, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I know all about God’s grace but still can’t fathom how it extends to me, I was doing so good, but I let the devil get the best of me. I had sex for the first time since March or February, and I felt so guilty about it. The first time at least, but for a long time it was my world, so I went back for seconds. The worst part about it all is the day after the first time I received an email from my lawyer telling me that Amelia’s mother reached out and is willing to make a deal so that we might not have to go to court at all.
How? God knows everything and knew that I would mess up and still bless me with the news that I’ve been waiting for. I guess I just don’t understand grace, because if it was me, I wouldn’t do it at all because of my disobedience. I’ve been doing so good I don’t even understand how I backslid, and it’s so hard to come back after that because I know I did wrong, and I know that he was watching. It’s a spiritual warfare between wanting to do what’s right and the sensation I get while doing what’s wrong.
A conundrum. Taking all of me not to start hating myself again, not to start thinking that I’ve failed in the Christian walk. I failed to be Christ-like.
I did get great news though, hearing that Amelia’s mother is willing to follow DSS for amount of visitation and child support is. It’s unfortunate, that it must go this way, that we can’t be parents by ourselves and not get the government involved. It’s unfortunate that some would put their feelings ahead of their child’s, I can’t believe that I put my daughter in this situation.
Before I realized that she contacted her lawyer she has gone back to not answering my calls or text messages, I’m no longer blocked but being ignored feels the same. Hopefully when I ask to speak to Amelia that it won’t be a problem, but who knows.
Even with the good news, I still hold trepidation for the future. Will my daughter still love me? In what ways will she try to corrupt our relationship now? Is God’s promises still active through all my mistakes? I hate the fact that these last six months or so I feel like I’ve thrown down the drain. I don’t want to go back to my old life, but it’s so enticing. I just want to do everything right so that I can be all that my daughter’s need.
Amelia and Amara, daddy loves you.