The Chair...

     He always sat in his big soft easy chair when we had our Bible Study. I sat across from him in another chair. There was a table where I could set my books and other study materials. He directed the lesson...  we were working on some of the Minor Prophets like Amos, Micah, and Jeremiah. We usually studied together about an hour, and then conversation would move in other directions.

     This was at a time in my life when my husband was not well. At the end of my lessons, my mentor and I often talked about my husband's medical treatments, his declining health, and my need to be strong for him. Having someone there to listen to me was so helpful.

     And often, as we talked and he encouraged me, he would remind me that I was like a daughter to him. He would invite to come and sit with him in his big soft chair. How could I refuse? He comforted me. 

     Sometimes he held my hand or rubbed my back as we continued to talk. And sometimes he wrapped his arms around me like a father might embrace his child. There even came a time when he would kiss me, but snuggled there in his arms… it didn’t seem wrong.That chair was like a nest, comfortable, sheltering, and full of “love.”

     Like a daughter??? I don’t think so now. I believe he was not ‘like a father’ to me, but a predator grooming his prey. Why could I not see this? Did I need that ‘affection’ so much that it blinded me to what was really happening? 

     I struggle to forgive myself.