Timothy Kline: Thoughts and Reflections

Where will the path you chose REALLY take you?

It is a fact of life that we all make choices because we CAN. It’s our RIGHT.

As parents, we try to teach our children not only how to make wise choices, but to help them to learn that there are consequences for the choices they make–and those consequences may be good or they may be bad. In time, the child reaches what is commonly known as the age of accountability, where the responsibility for their decisions ultimately falls upon their own decision-making skills and the parents can no longer shoulder the blame or burden.

Parents dread that day, and children often live in denial of it–wanting the freedom of Choice but not willing to accept the consequences of that freedom when a choice results in a bad situation. Nevertheless, the day invariably comes when our children must be allowed to experience the consequences of their decisions, for better or for worse, and we, as the parents, must allow them to.

Of course there is no question that we, as parents, want to swoop in and save the day, to protect our child when things go badly for them. This is natural. And in the beginning, it helps coax the child into maturity.

But allowed to continue, we can unintentionally deny our children their due right to experience Life under the guise of “protecting” them. They have the right to their own decisions, their own Choices. But they also have an obligation to own the results of those decisions–even if we disagree with the Choice made in this situation or that situation, and know that no good will come of it.

The situation becomes even more trying for us as parents when the advice and counsel we offer one of our children essentially falls on deaf ears: they nod and admit we are “right” while they are talking with us, but then go ahead and do their own thing when they’re away from us.

In some ways, this comes across as rebellion. Even betrayal. After all, why tell us that they know we’re “right” about our perception of a situation and our advice, and yet act completely counter to it?

And what do we, as parents, do when one of our children behaves in this way? In some cases, we maintain the relationship–and the child continues in their Choice, enjoying the freedom of being able to choose and yet believing that when things have reached their pinnacle and the time has come to pay the piper, that their doting parent will swoop in and rescue them or provide a way out for the bad situation the child has brought themselves in.

Now, I’m talking specifically about our ADULT children here–and not school-age children that haven’t reached the “legal” age of 17 or 18 years of age.

In the above-mentioned situation, where the parent decides to maintain the close familial tie, essentially enabling the adult child to persist in a course that the parent knows is self-destructive, disastrous, and, in some cases, morally and ethically wrong, the parent must assume responsibility for their part in the situation. They are failing to properly parent because they KNOW that what their adult child is doing is wrong and problematic, but they are using the excuse of parental “love” to deny the wrongness of their adult child’s course.

It says, in effect, that the adult child can continue in their course without really experiencing the consequences of their Choice–because the over-doting parent will help soften the harsh realities that result from unwise decisions, and be there for their wayward adult child when it comes time to “pay the piper.”

This is bad parenting because Life does not work this way.

Every day, each and every one of us makes a Choice, and things happen as a result of that Choice. Sometimes, those things that happen or beneficial–and sometimes they are downright tragic. But in order to become better in our decision-making skills, we MUST experience the full weight and burden of every Choice we make. It’s called being an adult–when we finally become responsible not only for ourselves, but the impact our Choice has on those closest to us, as well as Society at-large.

It becomes a testament to our Character when the Choices we make reflect our awareness that others close to us may be hurt, disappointed, or estranged through what we choose to do. Or, conversely: doesn’t reflect that awareness.

Unfortunately, some adult children reach a point where they could care less what anyone else thinks or feels about what the adult child chooses to do. They just want to do whatever it is that they want to do, and everyone else can just take a flying leap. The adult child’s self-indulgent attitude takes priority over everything else. Anyone that tries to reason with them is considered a “hater” or enemy or someone who “just doesn’t want them to be happy.”

In nearly every case, however, where the adult child insists that “everyone” else is just trying to keep the adult child from being “happy,” the reality is that the adult child is engaging in self-destructive behavior that will eventually result in disaster, and the adult child is in denial and defiance of the inevitable.

However, no amount of reasoning on the part of the frustrated parent will reach that adult child once they reach that level of rationalizing. In that situation, the parent’s best course of action is to step back and let things take their course–even though they already know where the particular path leads. The adult child MUST be allowed to experience disaster for themselves.

Even then, the adult child still may not admit that the Choices they are making are problematic. Instead, they will persist in the belief that everyone is against them, against their happiness. They will continue in the delusion that they are doing everything right, and honestly be confused why bad things continue to happen to them–when in reality those bad things are simply the consequences of the adult child’s Choices. They will be angry and resentful especially at those close to them when they need or want something, expecting it to be provided on the basis that they ARE family, after all–and do not get what they are asking for from family members or siblings.

Worse still, adult children caught up in the maelstrom of this course will habitually lie and resort to deception and half-truths in order to bolster the illusion they have built around themselves. Not intentionally, but because they have so thoroughly and effectively deluded themselves into believing that they are speaking absolute truth–even when the evidence contradicts it.

Too, these adult children will utilize emotional manipulation to secure sympathy and pity from others, to obtain support that subconsciously will reinforce their conviction that they are perfectly content, their life is essentially the life they want, and that everyone is out to get them or deprive them of happiness.

This is also evident in the relationships that the adult child enters into. While the adult child will be absolutely convinced that they are in “love” with someone they’ve managed to attract through sympathy, pity, or emotional manipulation, an objective assessment will confirm that what the adult child is calling “love” is actually DEPENDENCY. The adult child is actually dependent upon the other person in the relationship for support, affirmation, and the other person will invariably assure the adult child that they’re right about their skewed world-view in order to secure their own needs’ fulfillment.

This co-dependent situation persists until either the other person in the relationship realizes that the adult child needs more than can be given (and this need will increase exponentially as the relationship continues), or the adult child fails to secure what they crave from the relationship.

Relationships such as these tend to be short-lived, and each relationship that ends before the adult child is ready for it to end will lead the adult child into depression and frustration as they try to understand what it is that they are doing wrong–without realizing or acknowledging the reality behind said failed relationships. This depression and frustration will end, however, once the adult child as secured another symbiotic relationship–and so the cycle continues.

It is a sad fact of truth that adult children who live their lives like this rarely come around in their lives to realize just far off-course they are. In some cases when the adult child finally does come around, years and even decades can have passed them by and they suddenly realize that they’ve managed to alienate everyone that had ever been close to them–even parents and siblings. They find themselves alone, embittered, angry (at everyone else except themselves), and resentful–yet at the same time trying to recapture a time that has long since passed them by when things were simpler in their life, when they had people around them that truly loved and cared for them… people who had no choice but to let the adult child HAVE their Choice, to live the life that THEY wanted–even though it meant that there would be no room for them in that adult child’s life.

But in the end, it was all about Choice.

A letter of friendship and farewell

With the approach of my (un)official retirement as longtime webmaster and part-time editor for Robert, I felt it appropriate that I take some time to reflect on our online friendship of some eight or so years, because the majority of you know very little about me, except my role as Robert’s site administrator and webmaster. I have always made it a point to keep myself in the background and do what I could to support Robert’s efforts in getting his thoughts and writings out to those who might be interested and find his material what they were looking for.

I first met Robert on a Discussion Board called Hourglass 2 (H2O), one of the first and largest online message boards for and about Jehovah’s Witnesses. This was around 1998, when the internet was in its earliest stages of becoming the worldwide phenomenon that it is today. You still accessed the internet primarily via dial-up, and AOL was a household name. Multimedia, when you could find it, consisted of rough, blocky, barely watchable RealVideo and even worse audio.

Hourglass 2 was strictly a text-based message board that allowed both Witnesses and non-Witnesses to openly discuss topics related to the Watchtower, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and everything between. It was, in many ways, the Wild West of Witness-centric sites, and was considered so taboo that an anonymizer service was used to house the site and people who didn’t want to register could post anonymously.

It didn’t take long for the stronger personalities to become known among the regular participants, and entrenchment began between the pro- and the anti-Witnesses. Discussions, for the most part, were civil and cordial–but there were a lot of new wrinkles being worked out as well, because this was an entirely new venture for all parties involved.

Robert was known as YouKnow when he started participating, and he was a staunch advocate for the Watchtower and Jehovah’s Witnesses right from the start, and never seemed to back away from an opportunity to take on opposers and set matters straight.

It was around this time that I was beginning to see cracks in the framework of Watchtower theology, and I was starting to have questions that seemed to be avoided by my local elders, which only exasperated the problems, and when I came across Hourglass 2 and saw the discussions there, I eagerly took it all in, because those same questions were being asked and debated out in the open. It all felt SO taboo yet so liberating, at the same time. Talking about things of a doctrinal nature so openly (albeit often anonymously, for fear of retribution from the Watchtower organization) felt empowering and reassuring.

At least initially. But although I was finding confirmation for my concerns and disagreements with Watchtower theology in the numerous discussions taking place, there was something missing. There didn’t seem to be any “So what then?” and because there was no perspective brought into the discussions–a “Okay, these things are true and they are wrong, but this is what we should do in light of the problems.” I have always felt that the underlying purpose of the majority of Watchtower- or Witness-centric sites is simply to convince the person to leave the organization–with no real concern for what the person does once they leave–just so long as they leave. At the same time, the utter refusal of the Watchtower organization to address the problems inherent in the doctrines, theology, and practices was equally problematic, and the polar opposite to the opposers’ approach–with the same results!

On the one side, you had the opposers who told you to leave–and didn’t care what you did once you were out, so long as you left. On the other side, you had the Watchtower, that told you to stay–and didn’t care if you had a problem with what was being taught as truth, so long as you stayed. The opposers argued that there was no real future if you stayed; the Watchtower argued that there was no real future for you if you left.

All I wanted was perspective! I wanted someone to tell me why I should stay in spite of these issues. The final decision would still be mine, of course, but I at least wanted to hear the arguments for continuance in spite of the problems.

And so it was that early in 2002, I emailed Robert and started talking with him about my dilemma, and then anxiously awaited a reply. It finally came in February of 2002, and he shared many of the same concerns I had, but also put it into perspective in relation to Bible prophecy as he understood it. We exchanged several emails forward from that point, and during the course of our missives to one another, I became aware that he had written several essays and treatises in relation to the situation that was happening with the Watchtower organization, and I suggested at one point that he should have a website and make this information available to others who might be looking for this information as well, because of their own situation.

Shortly after that, he allowed me to start publishing his writings online through the e-watchman website.

That was late in 2002, and we have been working together ever since.

Around that same time, I had become frustrated with there not being a message board that allowed for perspective on Witness-centric issues and problems, and I started an online forum called Pathways Online, which became reasonably popular–and would’ve become enormously popular, had I not acted as strict as I did in moderating discussions so that an appropriate balance was struck in the discussions that took place. That’s not to say that I didn’t exercise too much force at times, but nearly everyone that ever participated on my forum was comfortable with it–or would set me straight if I overstepped my own self-imposed guidelines.

When Robert had me set up a guestbook for his site, however, it quickly became clear that there needed to be a discussion board for those who wanted to discuss and debate the things Robert was putting online, because the guest book was fast becoming a discussion board itself, and getting overwhelmed and stretched rather thin.

Robert, understandably so, was NOT interested in being bothered with a discussion board at this point–he’d had his fill of message boards that swiftly fell under the influence of outright opposers, and he didn’t have the time to moderate and administrate a message board–preferring instead to focus on getting his writings online and putting together new materials as well.

So, the guestbook remained in place.

However, people from the guestbook were also starting to arrive at Pathways Online and wanting to discuss Robert’s materials–and regulars of the forum, too, were starting to do so. And while I have always been a strong advocate for open discussion on all topics related to Jehovah’s Witnesses on Pathways Online, I felt it was a conflict of interest to be Robert’s webmaster AND administrate a message board that predominantly criticized the material I was putting online for Robert.

So, I approached Robert again and raised the subject, and after plenty of hesitation and back-and-forth discussion, he finally relented and allowed me to set up a discussion board for his readers and critics. I would, in turn, administrate the site and moderate accordingly.

And so e-Jehovah’s Witnesses came into existence. This would’ve been around May 24, 2004.

Of course, there were those who complained that I was administrator of both discussion boards, because they were different in many ways that I won’t go into here. And by then, many had become familiar with my own personal views on scripture, and were quick to pick up on where those differences were in relation to Robert’s views–and they sought to capitalize on those differences by stirring up trouble and accusations of duplicity on my part. “How can you,” the argument usually went, “support and administrate a site that you yourself disagree with scripturally? Aren’t you being a hypocrite?”

And even today, there are those who are stymied at my continued involvement with Robert and role as his sites administrator and webmaster–knowing full well that I do not agree with everything that Robert has written or believes.

This has been a huge factor in my decision to remain in the background as much as possible, and not to personally participate in the discussions on e-Jehovah’s Witnesses–so as to not give critics fuel to light their fires of contention. And after I closed Pathways Online, it became easier to do so, of course.

What people seem to have the hardest time understanding is how I can continue to be involved with, friends with, and assist someone whom I do not wholeheartedly agree with when it comes to matters of scripture, interpretation and prophecy. Not that it surprises me that this remains a Mystery to them–because it doesn’t surprise me at all–because I think the majority of people miss the point entirely.

And because I know why I do, it matters not that others don’t “get it.”

See, there is not a single scriptural passage that you can point out to me that we can only love, assist, care for, encourage, and support those who agree with us or believe as we do. God certainly does not set that sort of example for us, and neither did our Exemplar, Jesus.

The areas where Robert and I differ on the Bible are irrelevant when you get down to the core of the matter. I still support his right as a Christian believer to make that information available to others, who can in turn either accept his findings, or reject them. I still support his right as a Christian believer to hold views and conclusions that differ from my own, because I am convinced that the day will arrive when these differences will be resolved by means of the promised Kingdom of the Heavens–or at least rendered moot. I do not believe that Robert and I must agree in order for me to consider him my Christian brother. Christian Love MUST trump doctrine and difference, or we fail as followers of Jesus and as a people of Jehovah. Of course, there are obvious considerations that we make in the process, out of conscience and conviction, but none of those apply in my ongoing relationship with Robert, and never have. Simply put, we are in agreement in the areas that I deem vital, and for that reason, the rest is just details that can be haggled over, fine-printed, and debated until the end of days–or accepted for what they are: differences that will one day be resolved, yet never granted the power to divide us as Christian brothers.

Robert has been a dear, treasured friend to me since I first approached him with my personal conflicts back in the days of Hourglass 2, and I hope that he considers me the same. I have seen him disappointed, hurt, and frustrated. I have seen him overjoyed and unbridled in conviction. I have seen him trampled by those whom he held in high esteem and thought friends, and I have witnessed the despair in solitude that often comes with the walk Robert is on. I have seen and known his battles, conflicts, loss, and triumphs in ways I wish all of you would have the privilege of witnessing–and I have seen how our kind, gracious, loving Father has been there with Robert every step of the way.

It is for these reasons and more that I am saddened that I will be ending (at least for the time being) my role as his business companion after so many years, so that I can focus more on the areas where Jehovah has blessed my own life and livelihood. There are personal matters that require my attention as well. Also, I have recently had the blessing of being reunited with two of my three daughters who had been adopted some 19 years ago. Too, my home-based business has grown beyond my expectations, in spite of a failing economy.

Jehovah has been very generous for my perseverance in spite of my own loss, turmoil, and distress–especially these past 10 or so years, and while he brought Robert and I together, the present circumstances seem to indicate that Jehovah is saying that Robert and I must part ways for a time so that we can see what Jehovah has in store for us, and so that our dependence does not become upon each other, but upon our God.

For those who wonder what I will be doing in the future, besides continuing to expand my business, rebuilding the relationship with my long-lost daughters, and the usual daily obligations and responsibilities, I would say that I will have very little free time to do much else!

Still, my intentions are to once again return to writing, eventually even completing and publishing a few books that I have back-burnered for far too long. I will continue to post blog entries, of course, and you can access those by visiting my primary website at http://timothy-kline.com and following the links from there. And I occasionally post at Hourglass 2 Outpost (a far cry from the pre-1999 Hourglass 2 message board). My other intentions, of course, are to continue to study theology, especially Christian theology, and advance in my understanding of the Bible, scripture, and God, as well as grow as a Christian.

But one wise expression comes to mind, as well: If you want to make God laugh, tell him of your plans.

So, in spite of my intentions, I’ll be doing whatever it is that Jehovah wills me to do.

In Christian Love,

Timothy Kline

Life's lessons are SO painful!

Since I’m having so much trouble sleeping tonight because my mind won’t leave me alone, I figure I might as well do something, and since I haven’t written in a while, this will serve as an update on my life, as well.

As I have discussed recently, I’ve had the amazing privilege of being reunited with now two of my three daughters whom I was essentially coerced into giving up for adoption by the State of Michigan some 19 years ago. It’s been nothing less than miraculous, really, and more than I dared ever expect—even though that didn’t stop me from hoping and doing what I could to get my name out there on the chance they might want to find me someday.

Be that as it may, it hasn’t failed to provide its own surprises, as well as frustrations—one of which I talked about in the previous entry.

I found out, for example, that I am a grandpa five times over. I didn’t, I admit, see that coming. My oldest daughter, Brandi, has three children, and my second-oldest daughter, Danielle, has two children. Insofar as I know, my youngest daughter, Melinda—whom I have not had contact with as of this writing—does not have any children.

Strange new territory, this being a grandpa so suddenly! But I’m very happy about that (and who wouldn’t be, really?) and looking forward to watching them grow and mature.

But that isn’t the reason why I’m sitting here writing at 2am in the morning.

It’s the realization that I’m coming into their lives after so many things have happened that might have been averted.

I’m frustrated because I can’t help but feel that it is the curse of a parent to want a better life for your children than they seem to want for themselves. I want you to remember that, because I’m going to come back to it later on in this entry. But that’s later.

First, I want to elaborate on what I mean.

In getting reacquainted with my daughters after all of the years that I was forced to miss out on, I can’t stop myself from wanting to kick into what I’ve laughingly referred to when I’m with them as “Daddy Mode,” where the father in me kicks in and wants to set matters straight and get to the bottom of the mess as soon as possible. The catch is that I haven’t been a part of my daughters’ lives for 19 years. They’ve been raised by the adoptive family, and are a product of that environment—and environment that weighs as a heavy influence on their decision-making skills, morals, outlook on life, and even their view of themselves. I know that it’s unrealistic to think that I can come on the scene after all of that groundwork has been laid for them, and expect things to suddenly be able to shift direction. It doesn’t, however, stop me from wanting that to be how it goes.

So, it’s a learning process for me as I try to get acquainted with my long-lost daughters, encourage them where I can, help them where I can, and realize that they have their own lives that they are living. The way I explained it to them was “I’m not going to tell you what to do or how I want you to live your lives. But I will probably tell you how you should. I will offer advice, but it is your choice whether to follow the advice or do things your own way. Either way, I will never withhold my love from you.” I also told them, “I will not always agree with your decisions, but I will always be there for you and have your back.” To that, I added, “I do not expect you to jump through hoops with me in order to be approved by me. If I give to you, it is without strings attached, where I later hold it over your head.” But I also made one other thing clear to both of them: “I will do everything within my power to help you with whatever it is that you need; however, I will NOT carry you.” The way I explained it was that I won’t help them unless I see that they’re at least helping themselves.

And true to my word, I’ve been dropping fatherly advice into both of my daughters’ laps—sometimes delicately, sometimes plainly and bluntly. But it is SO hard to give advice and then let the matter rest, and watch them continue doing things the way they are used to or prefer. But the way I figure it, it’s their life, and they’re free to live it however they want to live it. The bottom line is that I’m going to continue to love that and endure whatever angst, frustration, and disappointment comes with that—as well as the bliss and memorable moments.

Years ago, someone asked me if I believe in unconditional love, if I thought there was such a thing. And typically, the answer would be no for most people. But I do believe in unconditional love, a love that is simply given—regardless of whether it is returned, acknowledged, or ignored outright. I know there is such a thing because I have children, because I have sons and daughters. But I also know there are parents who, unless their children live the life that the parents want them to live, or do things the way that the parents want them to do them, will withhold their love, or even stop interacting with them altogether, cutting them off from the family in some attempt at ultimate discipline. Perhaps they disapprove of the lifestyle, or the boyfriend/girlfriend, the career choice—whatever the reason or excuse they concoct to justify their simplistic, unloving approach to their own flesh and blood.

I’m certainly not going to say that unconditional love is easy. It’s not. In fact, it will often run counter to every fiber of our being—because we as parents naturally want our children to obey us and comply with us. Sometimes, it’s for the simple reason that we know where they’ll end up if they don’t follow our counsel or advice. But as much as we want to protect our children, to save them from cuts, scrapes and bruises brought on by life, we have to let them crawl, walk, and then fly. And when (not if, but when) they stumble and fall, we will be there to help them back up again. They need to know that. They MUST know that, and we have to be the ones to tell them. And any temptation to say “I told you so” or “Well, if you’d listened and did what I said to do…” needs to be stomped out of existence, plain and simple. It is pointless and just plain evil.

All of this, of course, is a sort of preface to what has been bothering me since recently.

There are two things, actually, so I’ll start with the first part, and then get down to business with the other part.

Both of my daughters are in what I will settle for calling predicaments of their own making. And the more I think about their predicaments, the more I want to go insane, because it is SO crazy to me. I’m at a complete loss what to do about it to help them. I’ve offered each of them advice, of course, and made recommendations, but they seem determined at this point to do things the way they prefer or are comfortable with. So, I am having to let the matter rest and let them see where their way takes them, and wait to see what happens next.

There are the predicaments, as I said, but there is also that “groundwork” that I referred to earlier, laid by the adoptive family. Then, of course, there are the obviously unresolved issues related to the whole family upheaval and subsequent adoption placement. Abandonment issues, emotional trauma (at least for the two oldest girls), insecurities—not even to mention them being told for the past 19 years that their daddy was a molestor and their mom was nearly as bad with issues of their own—a subject that I address in the previous blog with much frustration.

So, I completely understand that there are numerous factors in play here. It’s actually, at times, overwhelming how messed up everything is about this whole situation, and how it could have all been so different. But I try not to spend too much dwelling on that because it can’t be changed now—all that I have to work with is the here and the now, and potentially the future—IF I don’t screw this up by scaring them off with my “Daddy Mode.” Finding that balance is HARD, let me tell you!

Now, just recently, I was able to spend the day with both daughters that I have been reunited with at this point. It was, on the one hand, the most wonderful day for me since I can remember—and on the other hand, it had the most gut-wrenching, heartbreaking moments since I can remember.

I suppose a lot of it is due to the fact that the more I become acquainted with them, the more I am uncovering or discovering, and I am absolutely gutted to see just how broken they are. People who have spent any time with me online may be familiar with that expression because I’ve used it from time to time, where I’ve made the observation that everyone is broken—it’s just that some people are better at coping with it than other people are. Be that as it may, I’m not talking about other people, or everyone here: I’m talking about my daughters.

I want to make one thing absolutely clear here: I signed a piece of paper 19 years ago acknowledging that the court had the right to terminate my parental rights and subsequently adopt my girls to another family. I acknowleged that I was releasing all parental rights in that declaration. But in my heart and in my heart and in my soul, where the court could never reach or compel, I refused to stop thinking of myself as their father, and I refused to stop thinking of them as my daughters. They were taken—I did NOT give them or abandon them to the state. So, in every sense of the word, they never ceased being MY daughters, I don’t care what a piece of paper says or how I was coerced into signing that paper. And they will ALWAYS be my daughters!

And I suspect, as I become reacquainted with them, that I had made my fatherly impression on them to such an extent that they remembered my love for them in their very core, and that for their entire life they have had an insatiable void that they have tried to fill through lost, misdirected choices and relationships.

Be that as it may, I can do nothing except try to put the pieces back together, to try to repair the brokenness and heal and salve and bear the pain throughout the entire process.

What makes matters even more difficult is that they seem to be able to point out the faults of one another’s life choices and each other’s boyfriends—but they aren’t looking at their own lives and focusing on what THEY need to be doing with their own life. That, to me, is both crazy and frustrating. I’m torn between laughing hysterically and wanting to pull my hair out of my head! Worse still is that there are uncanny resemblances with BOTH of their situations that I won’t go into here—resemblances that I wish SO much they could see. But while they don’t like how the other one is living their life, they aren’t doing very much with their own life, either.

Which just goes back to what I was saying earlier in that they have that choice, and must make it for themselves. I can’t tell them how to live their life—I can only tell them how they should live their life.

But regardless, I love them both, and care for them beyond words. So, it hurts when I see them at each other. It hurts when I know where their choices may take them. And it hurts to let them have their choice. Love hurts, and at the same time, I would never want to stop loving them—even though I know the worst of the pain, heartache, and frustration is still ahead. But as bad as this gets, I want them to know that I am not going to step away from this. They can, but I will not. I will never stop being their father, or stop caring, or stop wanting nothing short of the best for them. Ever.

Which brings me to the final part of this blog, and the motivating factor that set things into motion.

To preface the final, closing point, I need to lay down a couple things to provide perspective.

The same day that I met Danielle, she had asked me if I could take her to her new boyfriend’s place. It was out of my way, and I told her as much. After a moment or so, I offered a compromise: ride back with me once I picked up her sister for laundry day at my house, and I’d swap vehicles and take her to her new boyfriend’s place. She agreed, and I picked up Brandi, and we headed back to Perry. After we got to my house, I of course, invited Danielle in and showed her around, introduced, and that sort of thing, and then we were on our way to meet her new boyfriend, outside his ex-girlfriend’s place, where Danielle said he had been staying for the past few days. I dropped her off, and headed back to Perry.

A short while later, I got a phone call from Danielle, asking me if I could take her home because she was hungry and hadn’t eaten, and her new boyfriend wasn’t ready to go home and would be staying behind. Of course, I said I would but that I’d bring her back home with me and feed her lunch and then take her home the same time I took her sister home. She said that was fine,  and was on my way to pick her up.

And then, as I was heading to the town to pick her up, my cell phone rang. It was Danielle. She said that Jeremy was wanting to go home with her now.

My stomach clenched. I didn’t know what to say. My first thought was that I’m being played, either by Danielle or by both of them—and I didn’t care who was playing me: I did NOT like it.

I finally bit my tongue and said okay, and let her go. The rest of the way there, I battled with myself, angry at feeling like I had been played. Should I take them home after I had already invited Danielle back to my house for dinner with everyone, or should I take them straight home like Danielle and said they wanted to do. What to do, what to do!?

And this voice came out of nowhere, reaching into the back of my frustration. “Now you know how it feels for me.“

Now I’m not a churchy, religious, Bible-thumping Christian. But I am a believer and a man of faith. And I’ve had my fair share of moments in my life that could ONLY be explained through my belief in God. This had to be one such moment. There is no other explanation that fits. Now you know how it feels for me.

In that moment, I realized that it must suck to be God. To love your children unconditionally, and let them have their choices and have to deal with the consequences of those choices. And do you still remember what I told you to remember at the beginning of this blog entry?

It is the curse of a parent to want a better life for your children than they seem to want for themselves.

I had been brought into this because God was wanting me to learn something about him. What it’s really like to be a parent—the good, the bad, and the ugly. And then letting me decide: do I want to be the sort of parent that He is, or the sort that I think I should be? If I’m going to talk about unconditional love, then I’m going to be put to the test, sure enough!

And sure enough, in that moment, I was. And yet the choice was mine to make. Nobody was going to make me choose or tell me what to do.

Now you know how it feels for me, the voice told me as I drove. You want to know how it feels to be a parent? You want to talk about frustration? Anger? Disappointment? About your children not listening to what you’re trying to tell them? But you know what? I never stop loving my children. I never said it would be easy for you, and you can still walk away from this. I’d understand. But I don’t believe that you will, and I want you to know that you won’t be alone in the tears or the happiness. I’ll always be here for you.

I can’t say that even then I wanted to do what I felt in my heart I should do. But the Voice stayed with me the rest of the way to Williamston, and once Danielle was sitting in the seat next to me, I made my decision. I AM in this, no matter what. Heartbreak and all. I love my children too much to do anything else.

So, I brought them back home with me, to have dinner with the rest of us.

But I did take Danielle for a walk with me as soon as we got the house, to tell her my gut feeling that I had been played and that I did not like feeling that way. I also did my best to assure her that I care about her, because I do.

Was I played? I’ll never know for sure. She explained things from her side, of course. But even if I was, I made my choice, and I accepted the consequences for that choice by having her and her new boyfriend come back to the house for dinner.

Besides, the remainder of the visit and day went fairly good, and in time I forgot about that initial frustration because my appreciation and gratitude for having two of my daughters together in my home at the same time was joyous and reward enough for me. If I had listened to by frustration instead, I would have missed out on that.

I think the way I worded it in a Status update on Facebook was that I had enjoyed a day with two of my long-lost daughters, and while are a few crinkles, kinks, and wrinkles needing to be worked out, I am SO thankful and grateful to have these two beautiful, amazing women back in my life.

And I mean every word of it.

Although I have been working my way chronologically through my life with this series, I thought I might digress momentarily, to address an issue that will provide a necessary basis for what I will be relating in Part 6.

Molestation takes away everything you might have ever become.

If a child is confronted with and immersed in what can only be termed as evil (and I would certainly call multiple acts of child sexual molestation, physical abuse, and emotional abuse to be forms of evil) on a scale that most other children never experience, what happens to that child’s psyche? Experts concur that the child’s mind can become fragmented as a result of the mind trying to process what is happening. As a matter of survival, the inner child recedes further inside the mind while the outer child adopts whatever façade is necessary to minimize the threat to its survival.

It is a natural response to unnatural circumstances.

Unfortunately, the consequences of that form of psyche defense is, for one, the child’s inability to later move into relationships apart from the parental relationship. The inner child that would’ve developed under nurturing circumstances into a fully functioning mature individual in the adult world instead becomes locked behind the walls of defense that were mounted out of necessity, making it unbelievably difficult to have and participate in a relationship that requires anything beyond a modicum of cordial intimacy. The child will not even realize it because the defense mechanism is so primal, so core to us as human beings. That is the very reason why child abuse is evil enough in itself, but child molestation is utterly evil.

It is, not to put too fine a point on it, a murder in which the victim lives.

For their own sexual greed and satisfaction, the molestor is willing to sacrifice their victim’s life but just cowardly enough not to physically murder them. It is a travesty of nature, and nearly every culture that has ever existed has for that very reason struck laws to prevent it from happening. But the molestor does not care, or they justify it somehow in order to show that Nature has it wrong, that there are exceptions.

And while it may be true that the molestor may themselves have been a victim of abuse, neglect, or molestation, it still holds true that they are not willing to prevent someone else from becoming a victim in turn. Their own inner child psyche is still in regression, even into adulthood—and like the schoolyard bully, they take what they want. As a result, another child’s psyche is torn by an act of violence against Nature, and must live with the consequences of that violence imposed upon them against their will.

If, then, the molestor is acting in response to their own damaged psyche, which has the behavior of a child at the age that they themselves were violated, should they be held accountable as an adult, or within the confines of that inner child’s capacity?

It is a known fact that when a molestor tries in any way to hide their act of molesting by justification (“you should’ve seen how they were coming on to me”), by threats (“if you tell mommy, I’ll kill you”), or lurid promises of love (“It’ll be our little secret”; “You’re daddy’s little girl”), they unmistakably are aware that their actions are wrong. Their act of hiding their evil is enough to establish that they know it’s evil and yet are willing to go ahead in spite of that.

Unfortunately, if they are convicted in a court of law, they typically are sent to prison where they will likely be raped themselves (prisons have within their culture their own form of justice, and child molestors are likely to discover that early on), further metastasizing their own damaged psyche. Clearly, they need to be removed from society at-large until their issues are addressed, but it is equally certain that there is no such thing as a cure. In other words, they will never cease to be a child molestor, even if those urges are somehow diminished through chemical means, therapy, or a miracle. And it is outside the scope of this blog entry to go into further detail where the molestor is concerned.

But what about the child that was molested? I mentioned earlier that because the natural response to such an unnatural violence is to erect barriers in the psyche to protect the very core of the child’s being, this presents the child with significant challenge in the development of intimacy later on into teenage years and adulthood. How this is manifested will vary from child to child, and is truly unique to the individual, although psychologists have come to recognize patterns. But throughout those patterns, the one common factor that they all share is a hunger for love and affirmation, the very love and affirmation that a child would have received in a nurturing environment, thus allowing them to grow into fully functioning adults in the world at-large.

In my own case, because I grew up through years of abuse and was molested, I have had a tremendously difficult time developing relationships with any level of intimacy. By all appearances, I am a fully functioning adult. My outer child has managed to make the necessary adjustments so as to not “stick out” from society at-large. Even so, it has had to make certain concessions in the process. As a result, there is a sense of lost identity, because my life has always been defined by who is around me. I became what I needed to become in order to fit in or appear normal.

The exception is with children. I do not and apparently cannot relate to children below a certain age. I know this from experience especially through my own children, although there have been countless other occasions where I was around infants, toddlers, and young children, and felt lost and unable to relate on any level with them. It wasn’t until my own children reached 12 years or so that I could suddenly relate to them.

Because of that inability to achieve intimacy within a relationship, my being a father has been a road strewn with many bad memories due to my own inability to cope with the responsibilities associated with good parenting. I have both my mother and my molestors to thank for that. I can only hope that in doing what I could figure out to do, my sons will go on to do a better job than I did in raising them. If they are not able to, I must share in the responsibility for their failure to be able to do so.

I have often used the term “survivor of abuse and molestation” in describing myself, because I am. But it in no way is meant to imply that because I have survived such a life, that I overcame those things. That would not be true. I continue to carry the memories and live with the consequences of those things every day, even though it was by another’s choice that they be willfully imposed upon me when I should have been nurtured, protected, and loved. Who I could have become in this life was murdered all those years ago. I am all that remains now, for better or for worse.

It is an unimaginable thing to come to terms with the realization that the guilt that I have borne all these years really was never my guilt, but that of my abusers, those who murdered me in order that they might not have to face their own evil. I think this is the one most difficult realization that a survivor of abuse and molestation must make. We become somehow convinced that we are bad, that we have reason to feel guilty and worthless—even as we try to overcome those feelings of guilt and shame through whatever means we can avail ourselves of—whether it be drugs, alcohol, sex, our jobs. Others turn to the other end of the spectrum, devoting themselves wholly to their church, to religion, to their family, to a benevolent cause. Whatever the case, it is through those things that we try to find escape, peace, acceptance, love, and a sense of worth. And for a time, we do. But the gnawing doesn’t go away. The craving never really is satisfied, and we devote ourselves still more into our “addiction.” And the cycle repeats itself endlessly, always with the same results.

I think it’s safe to say that there have been countless times that I had wished my abusers dead. Because I wanted to believe that with them dead, I could be rid of this rage, guilt, and shame. Yet I know that this will be with me the rest of the days of my life, whether my victimizers are dead or not. In my particular case, the first man who molested me died in a drunk driving accident. The second man eventually contracted AIDS from one of his partners and died. My mother, of course, remains alive and devoted to her ego-centric lifestyle.

But even though my molestors are dead, nothing has changed for me. I did not find the resolution that I had hoped for in their death. That alone is enough to convince me that neither will anyone else find it in the death of their own abusers and molestors.

To others who, like me, have been forced to live a life in the wake of abuse and or molestation, I can offer little more than a compassion with the struggle. Nobody that has not themselves underwent what we have will ever be able to offer that because it is so unimaginably heinous. This is not to say that they won’t try to extend compassion, and we must never downplay their efforts to do so when done out of sympathy rather than pity.

Even so, as I work my way back through my life in this online journal, on this matter I have come to one realization. I can better see now why God allowed me to suffer through such traumatizing events in my childhood. I can now better understand why I was not protected as Christianity would have me believe I would be if I accepted Jesus as my Savior and had faith. If I had not, I would never have been able to give the testimony that I am giving now. If I had not, I would never have been able to feel utter compassion for someone that has lived with abuse and molestation. If I had not, I might never have come to know what it means to truly love, even when I do not feel loved or worthy of love.

In my lifetime, I have known rage, bitterness, resentment, even hatred. I have known what it is like to be emotionally emasculated by an abusive mother even as she physically assaulted me, day after day, year after year. I have known what it feels like to be overpowered by someone and forced to satisfy their perverse sexual lust at the expense of my own childish body. I know these things because I have experienced them, and whether or not I admit it, these have made me who I am today, as well as forever stolen from me whatever I could have become.

But in the midst of it all blossomed this power within me that could not be stifled and can only be described as Love. It has enabled me to be more sensitive the needs of others, to sense what they are feeling even when they are not saying it. It has enabled me to care and to sympathize in the absence of these things from my own life. And so much more.

If I had not gone through what I did, I might never have learned how to be sensitive, caring, and compassionate with others—not in any real sense of those words.

Even so, it does not make things better for me. It does not take away the things that I carry inside me nor the things that I find myself saying or doing when I am not paying close attention to myself. But it does make all those things more bearable. And that, at least for now, must suffice.