This week I had a few firsts. On the first day of the week, Sunday, I hit my father for the first time ever. Hit him, kicked him, told him I hated him. How's that for a follower of Yahweh? Not cool. My next first is that I felt love for Daddy and pity for him and also love for me and pity for me. No fear, just love (which involves reality-based thinking). My next first is that by the end of that very day, I had put the whole situation in Yah's hands and did not over-think it, and  I got a good night's sleep. My next first is that I did not assume that I could figure all this out alone and I did contact a few trusted friends, including my wonderful therapist, so I could make a plan for how to proceed. My next first is that I realized that in all this, Yah was at work on everyone's behalf so there was no use crying over spilt milk and this was, in fact, NOT the end of the world. The week was, in fact, a good one, ending with a brief visit with family that included me and my dad and we obviously love each other. Things will not ever be the same though. There will now be intentional respect at all times from both of us. Praise Yah for the mysterious ways He works!