Admission of a Funk

I read somewhere recently that Bob Hope, the great comedian and cheerleader of the troops in the 20th Century, had written a golf book comically entitled Confessions of a Hooker.

I typically slice, so my book wouldn't be nearly as good, I think.  Confessions of a Slicer just simply doesn't work!

Hope's title got me thinking though.  If I wrote a book per week or a book per month, what would the title be?  There are many weeks and months where I would entitle it Full of Joy or The Magic of Dad or Positive Thoughts of an Optimist.  But not always.  In fact, for the past 7-10 days, I'm afraid to say that the title of my book would be Admission of a Blue Funk.

After sitting around in it for several days, I decided this morning to write about it.  I want my family members to know that days like this happen . . . to everyone, I think . . . at points along the way. 

And there are times when it passes quickly.
And times when it doesn't.

And there are times when friends can help.
And times when they can't.
And there are times when you ask, "How am I supposed to make it through this?"
And times when the only answer is, "You just do." (as Jack Bauer told the CIA agent on 24!)
And there are times when you can change the game.
And times when you can't. 

If I were compelled to try to explain why I'm in a blue funk this week, I'd have to reply that it has something to do with the following: 

I experience loneliness.
I feel like a failure as a husband.
I miss the camaraderie of a good marriage, which once I thought we had (though long ago now).
I miss the ability to say "let's go to Napa or Sonoma or Broadway."
I know that my children are adults or are entering adulthood, and they must go into that stage;
and I miss them, of course!
I hope that two decades of parenting left them with something helpful for life.
I sometimes wonder if I failed them.
I often think that I failed Linda.
I wish I could interact with her smoothly now without letting hurt create distance.
I have moments of terrible insecurity, unwarranted; and after settings in which I felt that insecurity,
I may well curse myself out loud -- even screaming -- while driving home.
I'm not crazy yet because I recognize all of this, but
I am flawed and deeply so -- like humanity at small and at large.

I wrote this today because I want you to know.  I want you to know that I feel what you may sometimes feel in this life.  I want you to know it's okay to admit it.  Life has ebbs and flows.  Lesson #1 is "do not hide."

You all know that I believe that God will make all things new, that Jesus loves me, and that no harm can come to me that He will not turn into good.  Even more, there is nothing that I can screw up that he can't make right and good in the end.  But I wanted you to know that it's not always easy for me to believe this.  I want you to know that I struggle. 

And I want you to know I'm sorry for times that I let you down, drop the ball, go into my "intense work" mode, argue about Juicy Fruit, get mad at the stinking freezer, or fail to engage well in a certain setting.  Hopefully, that kind of stuff doesn't happen too often.  But it does happen, and I guess that whenever it happens, it's too often!

I hope you know that I love you.  I pray for you often.  And I need your prayers also.  As oft as you think of it.  

With great love for you all,

Dad