Booked, Busy, & Broken by Lindsay Rae Perry

Booked, Busy, & Broken;

a love letter to the fatherless

BY LINDSAY RAE PERRY

My childhood relationship with my dad was like that between a drug dealer and dope fiend. Whenever I wanted to be in his presence, I had to page him. He would return my call with a location to meet. Most of our meetups were public locations—gambling houses, the racetrack, school—and he would often take me to work with him. I’ll never forget my first “unofficial job” as a nine year old: tutoring and administering GED practice tests to returning citizens. On our lunch break, he would take me to one of his gambling spots to play poker and run numbers. There were businessmen, pimps, prostitutes, bookies, and a single child—me— all at the same table.

One day, my friend and I needed a ride home from school after missing the bus. Luckily, my dad lived across the street from the junior high we attended, and though I had never stepped foot in his home, I suggested that we run over and ask him for a ride. Every day, on my way to and from school, I would peep over to see if his maroon jeep was parked out front. During our time together, he would always make promises that he would invite me over “one day”. I always thought he was just too busy to do so.

After knocking a few times, I heard a creaking sound to the right of the house. It was my dad opening what looked to be a bathroom window. He had shaving cream plastered all over his perplexed face.

“Hi, Daddy!” I said enthusiastically, my heart was racing, lips were chapping, and my hands were leaking like a faucet. “This is it.” I thought, “I can finally cross the threshold of my father’s home.” He came around to answer the front door, but I noticed that the screen door remained closed. It was quite strange that he wouldn’t invite us in, after all, I was his child. His facial expression went from perplexed to ferocious. He began to scold me saying “ What are you doing here?”, “What if my wife would’ve answered the door?”, “Don’t ever come back here again!” And before I could respond— SLAM!!!! The door slammed right in my face.

This was the day rejection took root in my heart, forcing me to adopt a core belief of unworthiness that trickled into every area of my life. From the toxic relationships and jobs I would stay in to the unbridled ambition I had to prove my worth, I subconsciously believed that to receive love and acceptance, I had to overextend, overperform, and overplease. The rejection from my earthly father became parallel to my perception of my heavenly Father. My identity quickly became centered around what I could “Do”, as opposed to who God created me to “Be”.

I became a “team no sleep” entrepreneur. First-class flights across the country, awards, international media interviews, and speaking engagements were my normal.

Once the high from each achievement subsided, I would sit on the rooftop of my highrise building and contemplate suicide. There was a gaping hole in my heart, clouding my ability to see myself as worthy.

Until one day, I had a come to Jesus moment, after collapsing in the middle of the street from a nervous breakdown, two miscarriages, and a devastating blow to my marriage. I realized that I was exhausted from publicly performing and privately perishing. I was running on empty and my journey with rejection, high-functioning depression, and anxiety had come to an end. It was time for me to surrender the projected shame from my earthly father, and allow for God to be my loving heavenly Father.

My nervous breakdown, though I now call it a breakthrough, was God’s intentionality showing me my broken heart that only He could heal. I learned what it meant to be a daughter of God, and how there’s no amount of work that I could achieve to earn His unconditional love. I learned that His yoke is easy, and the burden is light. I no longer have to carry the load.

I am Worthy, Loved, and Enough. He is My Father and I am His Daughter.

“I AM worthy, loved, AND enough.”