Most days I forget the past. Most days my former life never crosses my mind. My children are safe and happy. My "new marriage" is full of love,affection, kindness, and respect. Our home is calm, full of laughter, and secure. So when the tweet posted from my daughter's teacher with a photo of my baby girl's sweet hand writing an essay on resilience, I was surprised by the anger in my heart. The photo revealed memories I prayed she could forget. My dad was an addict followed by we were very broke/debt and she was single and couldn't watch us. Her recollection of my solution brought solace, but the sting remained. She prayed and made everything okay. As I held my little girl close, she asked if I was upset with her for writing about her father. Looking in her soft blue eyes and stroking her unruly mop of curly blond hair, I assured her all was well. We had done nothing wrong. We had nothing to hide. Her next question hurt. "Mama, why did my dad take drugs and leave us all alone? I'm happy God gave us a new dad, but I still miss him sometimes."
My heart ached. She was the most forgiving of the three. Her twin brother and older sister still fought with bitterness. I sometimes wondered if she had somehow escaped the reality of her father's drug abuse and the resulting chaos. I prayed they had all been sheltered from the worst of it. Those prayers were in vain. I learned how exposed they were in strange little ways, like essays on resiliance.
Later that evening, I raled against God asking why. Why did MY children have to suffer the humiliation and pain of an addicted parent? Why did I have to endure watching someone I loved morph into a pathetic stranger right before my eyes? Could I have done anything to stop it? Was I to blame? Grateful for the life we have, I was still angry for the life we had endured. For I know the plans I have for you pulled at my heart. REALLY? You planned this for us, I silently screamed. As tears flowed down my cheeks like a cleansing balm, a strange peace filled my soul. The words you are my handiwork, created to do good works I prepared for you in advance swirled through my mind (Ephesians 2:10). I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. As you love MY children, so I love you rang through my soul. This internal dialogue broke my angry rebellious spirit. They are His children, entrusted to me for training. It is my job to instill a longing for their Heavenly Father, and the desire to do the good work He planned for them.
Describing the encounter to my husband, he smiled and said "God rescues us, so we can rescue others." Such a simple statement, but so profound. God took the enemy's plan to destroy my family and made it beautiful. Another child will see my daughter's essay and find hope. I will share this story and reveal grace to a struggling mom. My older daughter will share her story and show a struggling teen a glimpse of the saving power of our Father's love. We are His creations here to do a work designed just for us. Let that settle for a moment. Bask in the glow of His love.
So write those essays sweet girl. Tell the world your mama prayed and her God made everything ok. You have a hope and Father God who won't leave.
Father, thank you for reminding me that this life is not about me. It is about Jesus and His Glory. Make me brave to do the work you planned for me long ago. Amen!
My heart ached. She was the most forgiving of the three. Her twin brother and older sister still fought with bitterness. I sometimes wondered if she had somehow escaped the reality of her father's drug abuse and the resulting chaos. I prayed they had all been sheltered from the worst of it. Those prayers were in vain. I learned how exposed they were in strange little ways, like essays on resiliance.
Later that evening, I raled against God asking why. Why did MY children have to suffer the humiliation and pain of an addicted parent? Why did I have to endure watching someone I loved morph into a pathetic stranger right before my eyes? Could I have done anything to stop it? Was I to blame? Grateful for the life we have, I was still angry for the life we had endured. For I know the plans I have for you pulled at my heart. REALLY? You planned this for us, I silently screamed. As tears flowed down my cheeks like a cleansing balm, a strange peace filled my soul. The words you are my handiwork, created to do good works I prepared for you in advance swirled through my mind (Ephesians 2:10). I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. As you love MY children, so I love you rang through my soul. This internal dialogue broke my angry rebellious spirit. They are His children, entrusted to me for training. It is my job to instill a longing for their Heavenly Father, and the desire to do the good work He planned for them.
Describing the encounter to my husband, he smiled and said "God rescues us, so we can rescue others." Such a simple statement, but so profound. God took the enemy's plan to destroy my family and made it beautiful. Another child will see my daughter's essay and find hope. I will share this story and reveal grace to a struggling mom. My older daughter will share her story and show a struggling teen a glimpse of the saving power of our Father's love. We are His creations here to do a work designed just for us. Let that settle for a moment. Bask in the glow of His love.
So write those essays sweet girl. Tell the world your mama prayed and her God made everything ok. You have a hope and Father God who won't leave.
Father, thank you for reminding me that this life is not about me. It is about Jesus and His Glory. Make me brave to do the work you planned for me long ago. Amen!