We are happy to have a post from Paula Sonnenberg, a member of our writing team. We appreciate Paula’s willingness to trust us with her tender experiences and share with us who her Abba is.
I watched out my bedroom window as my dad & his suitcase walked awkwardly down the circle drive. Stopping for a second to yank up his sagging jeans from the back- like he always did. Two 10-year-old eyes stinging with tears sitting just on the rim of my eye lashes. Forgetting to breathe for a moment; not wanting to swallow because the ache abiding in my gut was too much to touch. Then my heartbeat got louder & louder as I sank down onto the floor. Head in my hands, nose to the carpet, knees tucked up under my chest- the flood gate burst. “Please Daddy! Oh, please Daddy!”
Like it or not- we had the same extroverted, people-loving personality. Like it or not- we had the same need to laugh & have fun. Like it or not- I was a Daddy’s girl. That’s where it ended- the likenesses. But that was enough to be practically an alien to my mom & sister. That was enough for me to know that the only one who knew how I worked was gone.
I knew it had to be. There was a lot more I would learn later, too. That is about all I can stand to say about that December day in 1984- way too close to Christmas. The jagged cut on my heart would never heal all the way- not on this earth anyway. The twenty-five Christmases since have all been tinted gray.
Much because of that day- I cannot bear to hear the man I love being called ‘Daddy.’ My Silas is 10 & to even imagine him having to stand at the window & watch his Poppa leave for good makes me want to sink to the floor again.
In the not-too-distant past, I arrived at a point where I was able to remove the word “Daddy” from the man who left that day. I was able to give that word back to its rightful owner. It was harder that I can express. I whence when I hear the sound & it is with an arsenal of tools that I have fashioned & a gunny sack of grace that I can then relax into the place where I can weakly whisper “Please Daddy” to the One who need not strain to hear it. You see, the only one trustworthy enough to bear that name is Abba. So I stumble on with my feeble words…
“Please Daddy. Help me to fight the temptation to put his jacket on Your shoulders. Please Daddy. Please help me to see You walking up the circle drive with a smile & dancing eyes when you catch me looking out my window. Please Daddy. Laugh with me for a little while. Play with me, please Daddy. Know me. Please Daddy! Oh Please Daddy! Let me be a Daddy’s girl again!”
It is enough to render me in the same position I was in that day- head in my hands, nose to the carpet, knees tucked up under my chest- the flood gate bursting. But now mixed with the tears of sorrow & anguish are tears of gratitude & comfort. Full restitution has not come. My little 10-year-old girl’s heart still longs for a warm daddy arm to put my head on when I’m watching TV. But I live with the promise that when I am face-to-face with my Abba Daddy, He will wipe all the tears from my face. And I know that each time I am able to speak to Him in that timid voice, I move ever closer to His heart & further & further away from that December day.
Tell me about your Daddy.
Oh Paula thank you for sharing your life with those who might learn to seek the ABBA who never leaves nor forsakes us ! Let us hear and reach toward Him! Blessings precious one! Blessings in the precious NAME of Jesus!
I am so happy to say I had an earthly Daddy who was just precious a happy go lucky fellow just like his Daddy ! I miss him so very much every day since oct 6th 1992 , I have a hole in me but cant wait to see him on the other side healthy and whole! He was my husband’s best friend and mentor so My children also have had the pleasure of life with a real Daddy ! He fills those shoes as only he can and he SEEKS ABBA everyday of his own life !
Enjoyed your blog and THANK GOD for all HE is doing you your life and ours!!
Kim Mangum
Paula Sonnenberg – thank you for your heart. Thank you for sharing this with us, although I know it wasn’t easy. I know God is going to use your words to speak to others’ hearts, don’t you have any doubts about that….and you have a Poppa God who loves you SO very much that He can’t even stand it…and He does smile when He sees you.
My daddy…when I think of my earthly daddy, I think of quiet strength. I think gentleness. I think of riding a tractor with him or walking down the cotton rows, hoeing cotton, while we sang silly songs…and if I had a weed that was too tall or hard for me, he’d always come help me. I think of the smell of dirt and oil – but they are good smells to me. I think of his hugs and how he wraps me up in his arms and I feel safe. We never had alot of money or things, but I have always known my daddy loved me and I’ve always known he would protect me and take care of me. I’ve always known he wanted the best for me. And I’ve always known he loved Jesus with all his heart.
It wasn’t until I got to college that I realized that not everyone had a daddy like mine…and not everyone could relate to God as a daddy because of it.
Thank you SO much Lord, for my daddy…and thank you, Lord, for being my Daddy….
When talking with my friends who did not have the best of parents, I always want to share my mom and dad with them. You are no exception; you can have my parents whenever you need them (mom, I hope that’s okay, ha ha).
I hate that when some of my friends sing the words “I love my Father, my Father loves me; I dance for my Father, my Father sings over me” it does not bring forth memories of dancing with their earthly father, like it does for me. (I even cry when I sing that in the presence of my Dad and see him dancing a little). I am ever learning that not everyone grew up with the love I had in my family. I think part of the “made in His image” that should be portrayed on earth is showing love to your children. And this is not always the case. Over the past 2 years, it has been a struggle for me to learn how to live in a dysfunctional family, as I married into one. Without going into details, I am learning that you can’t just blink and erase 36 years of hurt. I am learning that I can not be the fixer of the family. However, I love that Ken gets to experience my family, and their love. I commend my parents (and not just because one of them reads this) for showing the greatness of their love to me, my sisters, and our husbands. It has not always been perfect, but I take from my family life so much more love than hurt.
Paula, I love watching how you and Lee have broken the cycles in your lives by showing your little chickens such great love. I know that love comes from having learned to except loved from your Abba Father. They are learning each hug and kiss from you how to pass this on. This is a great legacy. I will be praying for you guys.
And, when getting love from my parents, just remember 1 thing…I’m their favorite.
Amen, Micki!
I totally understand your heart. I, too, had an amazing dad who not only loved me completely, but loved God with everything he had in him. Nothing felt better than to get a “daddy hug”. Going through this year without those special gifts has been hard, but I’ve also experienced many treasured moments from God as a result. A scripture that our family has claimed comes from Isaiah 61:3. It says “They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor.” In my minds eye, I guess I’ve seen Mom and Dad as this huge tree and us as seedlings that have sprung from underneath the gigantic canopy of that oak. From the opposite perspective of you, Paula, I think I grew to depend too much on my dad (and mom, for that matter) to be my “source” for who I was. It seems that if he said it, it was Gospel. While my dad was most always right in what he said, it is wrong for me to let anyone take God’s place in my life. I’m learning to listen for His voice – and I’m finding it does sound incredibly like what my earthy daddy would say and sing to me, but even more. I am soooo grateful for the awesome gift in my dad….I love and miss him, oh, so much. But I’m learning so much about who God is because I’m having to rely on Him more, instead of my dad. That being said, and because I’m crying about now, let’s move on!
On a broader scope, again, Micki, you are soooo right. Paula and Lee, as well as many others around us, have had to depend totally on God to show them how to parent their children. They are beginning a faith heritage of their own. The picture the Lord gives to me (different than our little orchard of sapplings underneath the big tree) is a straight graft onto the biggest “mighty oak” of all. This should be each of our visions after all. All of us have to leave behind our past and just cling to Him. None of us are orphans when it comes to God. The world is full of people that need “spiritual” fathers and mothers to help them attach to our Abba. I’m very grateful for the different perspectives we bring to the dinner table. And I’m also grateful that God has more than enough Daddy hugs to go around!! From one “favorite” to His many others!
Oh Paula,
What a sweet, sweet story. I know your journey hasn’t been easy, but all I ever see is a beautiful daughter professing her love for her Sweet Abba Father! I love getting to see you heart through your beautiful words. It is such an encouragement for this baby heart of mine. You encourage me all the time and help me to see that the same Father that loves on you also shares His love with me. I did grow up with a daddy that loved me oh so much, a daddy that taught me to dance on his feet, a daddy that would spot me on my gymnastic tricks, a daddy that was always there for me and always had a big, strong, gentle hug….but you know? I still have a Daddy that dances with me, spots me on big tricks (even though I can’t bend and flip like I use to 🙂 and a Daddy that is ALWAYS there for me with that big, strong, gentle hug. Hallelujah for the One who IS!! I have been able to grow sooo much through knowing you and your heart, Paula, that I will be forever grateful! I love you sister!
I hesitate to comment….thinking who would care what my thoughts about this would be….
The whole blog thing is relatively new to me. But, I have already been so blessed by Still Waters. It’s like a quiet place I can go to…..
Sweet Paula….thank you for sharing a part of your heart. You are a true light.
My heart so broke for that little girl, as I read. I could relate to that hurt. Tho my daddy was there….I was never his little girl…..I so wanted to have that daddy that all those daddy’s girls had. I so wanted to be that special one….it was just never to be.
But, after becoming an adult & as a young mother, giving my heart to Jesus…..for long while….. I purposed to love my daddy as Jesus did. And for awhile, things were good.
I learned later in life that my daddy had grown up in a very disfunctional family. He never knew the kind of parental love that he needed, therefore…..how would he know how to give it? So, even tho he gave his heart to Jesus in his 40’s…..he never really ”knew” how to love me the way that I needed him to.
As the years went by, my ”purpose” became harder for me. And I’m sorry to admit that at some point I stopped trying…..which made it harder when daddy died. Even if he couldn’t/didn’t know how/didn’t want to/whatever…..why couldn’t I just continue what I’d purposed?
So, Paula ~ thank you for your open heart & for reminding me of my heavenly daddy that loves me like all those daddy’s girls daddies…..even tho I wasn’t strong enough to continue my ”purpose”…..I know He still loves me the same.
And prayerfully…..I will succeed in my next purpose.
Wow! Powerful stuff! I can totally relate to this one. I am the oldest of 3 kids, & I was always “Daddy’s Girl”. My dad passed away in 2005. Miss him so much every day.
Our mom walked out on the family when I was 9 years old, & I know those feelings of rejection, abadonment, etc. My sister & I joke even now that our dad was the best dad (& mom) we ever had. We toast him every Mother’s Day!
I know that this is to be a place of transparency, so may I share with you that those tender, young hurts, surface often when I get around a group of ladies. I have a really hard time trusting women & can be in a room full of wonderful women, and be the loneliest person in the world. I am trying to work on this with God’s help. Go GOD!
Thanks for sharing your heart, Paula!
Blessings to you all.
Paula as always your sweet words seem to speak to my heart. You’ve touched a spot that I try not to think about. A spot I try to hide because of the shame and embarrassment, even though I know none of that belongs to me. I have no memory of my father because I never knew him. He was a military hook- up (for lack of better terms) and then I came along. I never saw his face, knew his voice, or felt the warmth of his embrace (and yes after 27yrs on this earth I still want to). Years later I’d see a small picture that I was told I couldn’t have. He was always kept invisible to me. The only thing I was allowed to know was his name and that he didn’t know about me and prob didn’t want me.
So naturally I found men overwhelming and scary. Just being in the same room with any man put my anxiety through the roof. Though this also affected my perspective on God. I can see Him as Lord, Redeemer, Friend, Counselor, but Father- no. Father is something I’ve never known, the concept is far to abstract.
I have faith though that one day the concept of father will be revealed to me and my ability to see God as a father will be restored. Maybe I will have to wait to have my own little minions and watch Eric become a father or maybe I will have to just let myself come out of the scared corner I am in and let my “Spiritual Parents” love me to their fullest. Wow this was supposed to be a quick comment not my own revelation on what I needed to do.
Thanks for the sweet words Paula.