Cascading Suns

Cascading suns on cereal boxes in early mornings is where warmth found its way into my soul. Always needing water to drain down the cereal because milk made me thirsty, I reached for the glass once again. “Don’t drink all that water, eat your cereal Jaque'!” Protesting with a furrowed brow, a whisper teetering, an audible moment of disrespect almost fell through where thankfully another spoon of cereal journeyed its way back.  

On daylight savings mornings, the sun didn’t reach its spotlight, and the warmth of the kitchen and Livingroom light cascaded in tandem instead. Mother would get us up for school. With backpacks ready and clothes on, all we had on the list was to read the morning cereal box or just sit and eat. Another sun entered the room. Standing 6’1 I’d be able to catch a glimpse of this sun. As he’d headed to work or would take us to school, I’d always look over, look up, look forward and observe him. Shining brighter than I could comprehend, I never thought that light could or would go out. 

My father stood 6’1 and had a smile, a laughter that would light up the entire room. Coming home I’d run to his arms knowing his safety was all that was needed in life. The love of my mother and the safety of my father. In summers we’d ride roads where trees rolled on by and if the sun peeked through it rolled with them flickering on through. The light, and in my mind’s eye my father’s light could flicker, but it really wasn’t him. My father shined, he at times blinded the eyes of my soul with the joy of how much he shined.  

Joy would flicker, happiness would flicker, and the reality of life would present itself, at times a dark reality. A dark reality wrecked by generational wickedness passed down as a business now to be a part of and handled, without any knowledge of your own wreckage. Over the years the light within me flickered and walls were built, the lense of pain, wounds, and other life lessons became my story. My father stood 6’1 and now I didn’t have to look up so much to meet his eyes flickering.  

Then one day, the light went out completely. And all what was passed down that needed healing attention rose to the surface. It had been looked at by therapists, by prayer in the secret place and at church, by friends with their own passed down businesses. All that was passed down was floating at the top as I saw my father sleeping after many seizures. My brother was in tears, and my mother was shocked by it all. As I stepped closer to him, he reached for me, and I came to his side reluctantly. There was no more warmth between us.  

“I’m sorry. I'm sorry Jaque...” my father shared an apology that opened my heart to the possibility of healing and before I could think of any response all I could say was, “I forgive you.” Not too long after that he had another series of seizures and had to be given medication to calm his overactive brain. What if he would have died? What if I’d decided not to forgive, but share all my grievances once again? What if? What if? I thank God that day I said I forgive you, even if I didn’t know what it meant to walk in forgiveness. 

 

“But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; My glory, and a lifter of mine head.” -Psalms 3:3 

There was a story of a man and he saw Jesus down the road. The man did not feel worthy of him as he recognized who Jesus was, due to all that he’d been through, and all that he had done in his life. As he and Jesus met in the middle, Jesus looked down at the man who kneeled at his feet on one knee, his head facing the ground.  

Jesus saw this man, and the man knew who Jesus was, but suddenly was shocked as he felt the hand of Jesus lifting his chin, Jesus lifted his head.  

 In those days when this action was done, when you kneel before someone with your head down that is asking for forgiveness. The response could be the person walking past you or the person lifting your head forgiving you. When Jesus lifted this man’s head he cried.  

You know, I am that man. I am my father who needed forgiveness, I am the one whose light flickered out and who owned a business passed down from generation to generation. I know that I am to be Jesus as well, knowing that I am that man and my father, that in the moment of someone kneeling before me in forgiveness, I’d be a lifter of their head.  

When their head is lifted, the offense is gone, the hurt is surrendered, and the relationship is healing. Knowing that the one who will give the strength and power through this process is Jesus through his Holy Spirit.

Sometimes lifting the head of another is hard, it makes you want to run and protect yourself from any hurt past, present, or future. Sometimes lifting the head of another is a sacrifice, as we learn to die to ourselves denying the desire to hold onto what was done as it has become an identifying factor of who we are. Sometimes the pain is so deep there is no way to see light, but to the Lord darkness is light.  

In him darkness is light  

In him he is our refuge and protector  

In him he is the one who holds our tomorrows and the remedy to every pain that may come with it.  

In him we have the power to deny ourselves and follow his commandment in forgiving others.  

In him we have a new identity, we are new creatures as his creation.  

In him he is the lifter of our heads and the light unto our path which is a continued relationship with him.  

To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified. -Isaiah 61: 3