Pain of Rejection

I was too young to remember my real father, Douglas Kaminski. While I was still playing with rattles, He left my mother and I, never to be seen or heard from again. The man I learned to call “daddy” was Dewayne Troxel. He raised me from toddlerhood, taught me to ride a bike, and took me fishing everyday, or so it seemed. He bought me my first BB gun and taught me to shoot. And by watching him I learned to skin fish and rabbits.

Daddy taught us how to slide down the watershed dam on flattened cardboard boxes, and on rare occasions he took us bowling. He taught us how to raise chickens and collect eggs, and how to build a well house from logs and red clay. And when things broke, Daddy fixed them.

When I was about ten years old, Daddy left. I didn’t understand why, but for the first time my young soul was wounded with the pain of rejection.

It’s quite profound how pain can etch itself into our lives, creating fears, insecurities, and ill patterns of thinking. It can create an unhealthy desire to be accepted, and then unreasonable suspicion when acceptance arrives. These tragic expressions of an inferiority complex almost inevitably lead to damaging relationships.

This realm of pain and heartache is one of many spheres where Christ created a new perspective. For it was He who endured crucifixion, being suspended between Heaven and Earth on a piece of timber hewn for the sole purpose of creating rivers of pain, while communicating utter rejection.

Yet this One we know as God-the-Son turned his gaze toward Heaven and said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Though Jesus had need of relief from pain and rejection, his executioners had need of grace and forgiveness.

Recovery of spiritual health often begins here, setting our own needs aside, and looking after the needs of others.