Can I Have A Hug?

I was able to go home recently for a short break and see my family. Man, I was so excited to see them and hang out with them. I was so excited to get a hug from my dad. He picked me up at the airport and I threw my stuff in the back of the car and we took off. I started telling him about the people I got to talk to and pray with on the plane ride over and he just smiled. I told started telling him about all the stuff I've been learning at school and how I've changed and grown and…improved. He just kept smiling and laughing – taking interest in everything I said. By the time we got home I was so anxious to get a hug.  I thanked him for being such a good dad, for listening, for picking me up, and for…well, life, then grabbed my suitcase and headed off to bed. The next morning I got up early before anyone else and straightened up the house, washed the dishes, and even washed the windows. I went out and fixed the lawn mower and was able to cut the grass before my parents woke up.  I was getting stuff done. Man, I thought they’d be so proud. I was so stoked for this hug. It was going to be awesome.

Later that morning, Dad went over to school to do some work and I put my plan into action. I had contacted different people to call him every hour and tell him something that they appreciate about him or how he’s impacted their life. All day long he received calls from people he knew. Awesome! Meanwhile, I was at home preparing my Africa mission’s presentation for church the next day. I had more than 1,400 pictures to go through and more stories than I know to try to cut down and put into order. Unfortunately, between the pictures and trying to make a good video to show them, I ended up spending more 8 hours that afternoon and evening working on it. I wanted it to be good. It was a little frustrating because the computer kept shutting down and messing up so it took longer and I was frustrated and worn out. Dad came home but I wasn't done with my presentation yet, so I said “hi” quickly then went back to work. I wanted to make sure it was good. I know it’s not that big of deal, technically, but I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to reach and touch the people in church with the presentation and the stories. Dad ended up going ahead to bed as I glared at the computer screen until 1:30 am. But I was pretty sure I got it finished and that hug was going to be awesome!

I woke up the next morning and Dad was already up and had breakfast made. I thanked him for the food and sat down to run through the presentation one more time to make sure everything was good and fit well. He got ready as I reorganized a few things. I got almost giddy when I thought how much he was going to like this. I ran into the bathroom just quick enough to take a shower and meet Mom and Dad in the car to head to church. On the way, I told a story or two from Africa and explained how excited I was about the presentation. I was a little nervous too and Dad prayed for me so I’d do well. More than the presentation, I couldn't wait until the hug afterwards.

We got to church and Dad went to practice with the worship team. I ran to get donuts for Sunday School and made it back in time to greet everyone. I got warm welcomes and hugs from everyone who came in the door. I was so happy to see them and they were so happy to see me. It was great. I love hugs but none of them were my Dad’s hug. Cause a hug from my Dad is like no other. Soon, I was getting one. As church started the drummer had to leave suddenly, so I filled in and got to play in the band them - which was awesome to get to play music with my Dad. I went on to give my presentation about Africa and they all loved it. Dad sat in the front row and teared up a time or two. I knew this hug would be good. At the end of the service, we went to the back and said goodbye and hugged everyone... except I was giving hugs and didn't get mine.

We went out to eat after lunch afterwards with some people from the church. After the stories of healings in Africa, we decided God was the same in America. So I got to pray for our waitress who had been having back pain and all the pain left and she accepted Jesus! Everyone was so excited (and perhaps surprised). I knew this would be a bomb hug! We went back to the church afterwards and Mom and Dad laid down for a quick nap and I stayed up and worked on a drawing for a mural downstairs. I thought it would be awesome. I showed Dad when he woke up as people were coming in and he really liked it. I was pumped but ... everyone came in before I could get my hug.

The service went on and three people got saved! Each of them cried and came forward. Each one got a hug from Dad - except me. We celebrated and talked with them and heard their process of what had been going on and lead to this point. It was great but we headed home late. I was exhausted…and still without my hug. When we got home, I gave Dad a pat on the back as I dragged to my room and flopped on my bed. I was worn out from jet lag and serving and setting stuff up and presenting…but no hug. I was missing out.

I'll save you some time, the week went on. I worked my butt off. I worked at school with Dad. I served at the church. I took care of things around the house. I took them out to eat. I bathed the dogs. Good night! I did everything I could think of… but still NO HUG. I was just about downright ticked. Shoot, I was ticked.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I was talking to Dad in the kitchen and just snapped. “Dad, what else do I have to do to get a hug?! I don’t know what else I can do. Tell me, just tell me! What is it I have to do for a hug? I went to Africa. I perfected this presentation. I thanked you for the food. I told people about Jesus. I prayed for healing and saw people healed. I served at the church. I played worship music. I loved people. I helped you at work. I took care of things at the house. I kept the things of the house in order. I loved people. I helped lead them to Jesus. I even set up and organized a time of praise and appreciation to you for all that you've done for people. What else do I have to do? What am I not doing? I've done everything I can think of, why won’t you just give me a hug?!”

His eyes welled up. A steady stream began to flow and his voice quivered as he spoke. “Why do you think you have to do anything for a hug? Why do you think you have to work to experience my love? Why do you think you have to earn it? What kind of dad do you think I am, if you think you have to do things before I will love you? I already love you. I’m glad to love you. It’s my pleasure to love you. I love giving hugs. All you had to do was ask for a hug - just ask to experience my love. In fact, I've tried to give you a hug all week. I've been yearning to give you a hug but you keep walking away and running off to do other things. It’s my pleasure to love you and make my love known in a way that you can feel. Do you really feel like you have to beg me to hug you, to love you? Is that what kind of dad you think I am?”

Suddenly all my frustration turned from him to me as I realized that I was stopping myself from being loved. For some reason, I forgot that my Dad loves to gives hugs and gladly gives them out to everyone he sees. He gives them to his kids at school, his people at church, and sometimes even strangers on street. Why would I think that me, being his son, would somehow be void of his hugs or expressions of love? Why did I think I had to make him happy with me first, so he would give me a hug?

Before I was able to run down the self-hatred and “stupid-me” pathway, my Dad stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. All the tension that held my body so tight seemed to be loosened and the longer he held me the more limp I went until there I was – just fully embraced. I had no other thoughts, no other excuses or reasons, no other regrets. I realized I had no real reason, explanation  or list to propose to him for my hug. My dad loves to hug people. It's his pleasure to hug. It's my pleasure to be hugged so I'm not sure at what point I began to earn or justify the hug I desired. It was freely and gladly given. There I stood in full embrace, tears of joy and release running down my face. I had no words, no thoughts, no reasons or regrets. I just stood there with my dad, being hugged, as nothing more than an object of his affection. Content. Thankful. Hugged.. Loved.