Letter to my missionary

Dearest [Daughter],

I sit here before a blank slate, wondering what to say. What have been the lessons of the week? I’ve been thinking of [your brother] all week, with his birthday nearing. You were so thoughtful to have thought of my birthday long beforehand, so [your sister] could deliver your wonderful and personal card on the day. Knowing that alone made the card touching and meaningful. The boy, my son, one whom I love dearly. Where is he? How is he? What is he thinking? How can I show my love to him? What does he do with his time? Who are his friends? Does he think of his Heavenly Father? Does he know that he’s loved of so many? Does he know I love him?

This year, as last, I bought the same birthday gift for all of my boys, as I did all of my girls. The boys I bought Liahona tie tacks. And for [your brother], as this is his 25th birthday, I included a cake mix and several varied kinds of wonderful candles, including mini birthday cake sparklers [his birthday is on the 4th of July]. For the girls … well, you’ll have to wait.

So what did I learn this week? On a weekend when I was to have [your younger brother and sister] stay with me but they were at youth conference, and thinking of [your older brother] and his upcoming birthday, then for some reason having half a dozen people today at church ask me out of the blue how my children are, and three of them asking, “How is your missionary?,” and feeling so sad at being so distanced from you all … but I didn’t share that part, but just that they’re doing wonderfully. And they are. But I had one thought that I shared with my good friend Sam today when he asked how you’re doing. …

When [your oldest brother] left on his mission, having just been separated from my family myself, I realized quickly that even though he was thousands of miles away, I was closer to him than the rest of my children. I felt disconnected from their daily lives. The rest were either out of the home on their own, or spending most of their time with their mother. But [he] was in this other world, the world of a mission. I was also on a mission, away from my family, learning on my own, serving and doing things that my family was not a part of. It was like [he] and I were on missions together. It was a sad day when he returned from his mission … but I didn’t return from mine. I lost that connection with him. The same happened with [his younger brother]. I joyed in every step of his mission too, as I did “mine.” But when he returned, I again shed real tears, knowing that I’d now lose touch with him as I had the others of my children, as he integrated back into the family that I was not part of.

I have a kinship with what you’re experiencing, because we’re away from our family on our own missions, and they know little of the details of what you and I are doing. But we are serving and loving and doing our best to bring God’s children back to Him.

Our Father in Heaven also misses us, and joys when we reach out to Him.

I run across pictures of you occasionally. I was struck a couple years ago that every picture of you I see shows a face of purity and godliness. This one happens to be open on my screen because I scanned it recently. It may not be a good quality picture, but your eyes, like every picture I find of you, is of the highest quality, showing simplicity … or simply put, the Light of Christ.

I love you dear daughter. I love what you’re doing. You are doing God’s will and you and others are blessed for it.

The lesson of this week: I love each of my children … and God loves his.

Love always,

Dad

Dos and Don’ts of Divorce

Unlike most posts, this will deal not with the divorcé, but with the one comforting a divorcé.

All those having gone through divorce should succor those going through it. It’s a good way for us to heal. We bear another’s burdens and at the same time we learn we’re not alone, and we both are lifted.

There are things to do and not do when you put your arm around a fellow divorcé (or even divrocée, as we can comfort them, too). It’s easy to have the attitude of “I know exactly how you feel! My ex this-or-that and I this-or-that,” But those of us hurting don’t need preachers. We know our failings well, we know (or think we know) the failings of our ex, and we don’t need someone to add fuel to the fire, even if we may want our world ablaze in anger and blaming.

So here are some dos and don’ts for us divorcés (and other listening in) when we are comforting another starting the walk down the road of divorce.

Don’ts

  • Don’t assume you have to talk.
    A hug or an understanding look, a how-are-you or a few minutes to listen, are often more than words.
  • Don’t tell your own grief story unless you’re asked, and don’t go off on a long rant.
    If you do tell your story, make it tasteful and with the intent to lift and validate, not start a bonfire.
  • Don’t offer advice.
    … except carefully. Perhaps share what worked for you if you’re divorced, but don’t prescribe and preach (especially if you’ve never been divorced!).
  • Don’t brush off any feelings that may be expressed, even if foreign to you.

Dos

  • Recognize there is intense grief at the loss of a relationship, dreams, plans, potentially a home, the noise and bustle of a family, and usually the ability to see children as in the past. There is a loss of control and input into your family’s activities.
    It is like losing a loved one–in fact we have lost a loved one, someone we do or at least did love, and lost the daily relationship with our children. Some say divorce is worse than death—and I do. Having lost my mother, a sister, and a son, the loss of my marriage and intact family has been more traumatic. Every return of my children to their mother and the home I used to live in (for many of us) is a loss all over again, a reminder and a reopening of a wound.
  • Give full, focused attention.
    And make that attention real and feel it in your soul.
  • Invite to activities, to church, and to whatever seems appropriate.
    Divorcés hunger for companionship, and often seek the wrong kind of companionship, and too early. There is intense loneliness and a feeling of loss of self-worth.
  • Ask if you can come visit. Or just go visit.
    People, even family and friends, tend to stay away from divorced men. The ones that could support you most are often the most distant. (During the first two years of my own divorce, the most difficult time, I recall only one visitor that I didn’t invite, my ex’s brother and sister-in-law. Even my sisters, brother, parents and friends never showed their faces. I hope that’s not typical.)
  • Allow sharing of honest feelings, including anger to God and church and ex.
  • Share your own feelings and words of love and caring.
  • Give a little gift, such as a basket of fruit or something simple or meaningful.
    That item may become cherished and a reminder of your caring.
  • Pray for the person, and to know what to say and do, and how often.