Vespers Friday night was so tough for me. There were four stations around the room. Three were interactive areas and the fourth was an area for anointing and prayer. One of the interactive areas was for forgiveness. You were to write the name of someone who has hurt you, or you have hurt, and to symbolically release the pain and anger by dropping the paper into a box of some sort.
I was initially prepared to sit and enjoy the music. Jesus had other plans.
My relationship with my mother is, for all intents and purposes, non-existent. When I was in college, she told me that if were to date Allen or anyone ‘similar’ (what a colorless euphemism!) that I would be choosing between that person and my family. I have to give her credit – she has stuck to her guns. I am an only child, though. If there’s not a relationship with me, she doesn’t have another child to turn to. These are her only grandkids. She is certainly cutting off her nose to spite her face. I called her the day after Allen and I got engaged. That didn’t go well, as you can imagine. The next (and last) time I spoke to her was when I called her the day after Tyler was born – I figured what the heck – I’m already on pain meds! I send her cards on appropriate occasions, and I send her pictures of the boys. However, I don’t write notes in the cards anymore after I mentioned in one that her new house was nice. She viciously accused my grandmother of letting me into the house when my mother was out of town. I quickly wrote my mother and assured her that I had only driven by the house. Sheesh.
A few years ago, I felt led to write to her. I asked her if she missed me. I also told her that I wasn’t going to change things – such as my church, Allen, etc. She didn’t take that too well. She did, however, suggest that perhaps if we saw a counselor – of her choosing – that we might be able to work something out. However, she wanted us to agree to abide by certain boundaries, as in “if either one of us feels that they are as close as they want to get, then we need to agree to stop and deal with the relationship as it is at that point.” This is MY MOTHER, for the love…! I just kind of shut down after that.
Allen has been so incredibly patient throughout the drama that is my family. He wasn’t when we first started dating, and really pushed hard for some sort of confrontation. After we got back together a year later, he was much more understanding and hasn’t pushed me. Although, every anniversary he does want to send her a note: “Na na na na na na – we’re still together even though you didn’t think we’d make it!”
I confessed at the women’s retreat this year that I have held onto the garbage from this relationship far too long, because if I let it go, there wouldn’t be anything ‘unique’ about me anymore. I know, I know. I know the words. I just didn’t feel special because of anything else.
As I sat during the Vespers service, I realized how tired I was. Tired of holding on to the pain, the resentment, the anger. Tired of making jokes about Allen’s ‘good luck’ with in-laws, tired of playing off mother’s day, tired of pretending it doesn’t matter. Two of my traveling companions had been talking about how when they start crying it’s often hard to stop. Yeah. I know. The tears flowed. And flowed. And flowed some more. I didn’t physically go to the ‘forgiveness’ station. I just sat and sobbed. I wanted to be refreshed and anointed. But I felt so ugly and unworthy. I told Him that but He told me it was okay, and to go forward. I took the long way around the room. My observation was that the process went something like 1) anoint, 2) pray, 3) hug. When I got there, well, my process turned into 1) hug, 2) hug, 3) hug, 4) pray, 5) anoint, 6) pray, 7) hug.
I’ve talked to Allen about this since I’ve been home. I don’t think reconciliation is where I’m being led. I don’t know if that will ever happen. I think ‘surrender’ may be a better word. I will try to start praying for her again. It’s been a long while. I’ve finally let Jesus see the blackest, darkest area in my heart – that spot I’ve been holding on to for fourteen years. I know He’ll take care of it the way He wants. I know He was sitting next to me, holding me while I cried and prayed that evening. I know He held my hand as I walked the long way around the room. I know He’s with me now as my tears are flowing again. And I’m so grateful.
I was initially prepared to sit and enjoy the music. Jesus had other plans.
My relationship with my mother is, for all intents and purposes, non-existent. When I was in college, she told me that if were to date Allen or anyone ‘similar’ (what a colorless euphemism!) that I would be choosing between that person and my family. I have to give her credit – she has stuck to her guns. I am an only child, though. If there’s not a relationship with me, she doesn’t have another child to turn to. These are her only grandkids. She is certainly cutting off her nose to spite her face. I called her the day after Allen and I got engaged. That didn’t go well, as you can imagine. The next (and last) time I spoke to her was when I called her the day after Tyler was born – I figured what the heck – I’m already on pain meds! I send her cards on appropriate occasions, and I send her pictures of the boys. However, I don’t write notes in the cards anymore after I mentioned in one that her new house was nice. She viciously accused my grandmother of letting me into the house when my mother was out of town. I quickly wrote my mother and assured her that I had only driven by the house. Sheesh.
A few years ago, I felt led to write to her. I asked her if she missed me. I also told her that I wasn’t going to change things – such as my church, Allen, etc. She didn’t take that too well. She did, however, suggest that perhaps if we saw a counselor – of her choosing – that we might be able to work something out. However, she wanted us to agree to abide by certain boundaries, as in “if either one of us feels that they are as close as they want to get, then we need to agree to stop and deal with the relationship as it is at that point.” This is MY MOTHER, for the love…! I just kind of shut down after that.
Allen has been so incredibly patient throughout the drama that is my family. He wasn’t when we first started dating, and really pushed hard for some sort of confrontation. After we got back together a year later, he was much more understanding and hasn’t pushed me. Although, every anniversary he does want to send her a note: “Na na na na na na – we’re still together even though you didn’t think we’d make it!”
I confessed at the women’s retreat this year that I have held onto the garbage from this relationship far too long, because if I let it go, there wouldn’t be anything ‘unique’ about me anymore. I know, I know. I know the words. I just didn’t feel special because of anything else.
As I sat during the Vespers service, I realized how tired I was. Tired of holding on to the pain, the resentment, the anger. Tired of making jokes about Allen’s ‘good luck’ with in-laws, tired of playing off mother’s day, tired of pretending it doesn’t matter. Two of my traveling companions had been talking about how when they start crying it’s often hard to stop. Yeah. I know. The tears flowed. And flowed. And flowed some more. I didn’t physically go to the ‘forgiveness’ station. I just sat and sobbed. I wanted to be refreshed and anointed. But I felt so ugly and unworthy. I told Him that but He told me it was okay, and to go forward. I took the long way around the room. My observation was that the process went something like 1) anoint, 2) pray, 3) hug. When I got there, well, my process turned into 1) hug, 2) hug, 3) hug, 4) pray, 5) anoint, 6) pray, 7) hug.
I’ve talked to Allen about this since I’ve been home. I don’t think reconciliation is where I’m being led. I don’t know if that will ever happen. I think ‘surrender’ may be a better word. I will try to start praying for her again. It’s been a long while. I’ve finally let Jesus see the blackest, darkest area in my heart – that spot I’ve been holding on to for fourteen years. I know He’ll take care of it the way He wants. I know He was sitting next to me, holding me while I cried and prayed that evening. I know He held my hand as I walked the long way around the room. I know He’s with me now as my tears are flowing again. And I’m so grateful.
5 comments:
It's hard to, but we all need to 'Let go'. I have those days too. He cleans away the layers of junk if we'll just let Him touch us. Praying for you...
I am so glad you found the healing that your heart needs. I know it is not an instant cure, but the process has begun and you will be able to soar again.
I'm so sorry. I hate for her to miss out on the love of those boys... and even Allen! :)
That is a tough load to bear. I pray that surrender is the answer for you. God can heal your heart.
What a heartfelt post. All those years of bottled up hurt....you must feel better to have let some of it go and at least have a plan now. I admire you for all you have been through on this journey. It is her loss though to have missed out on such a sensitive daughter. Enjoyed your writing. I'll be praying for you.
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