Today, it has been exactly one month since I heard from or
spoke to my daughter. I have never been
disconnected from her for this long. That word, disconnected, has more
significance than just a physical connection.
She and I have been disconnected from each other for far longer than
that. I do not know if I can actually
put my finger on a date as far as when we started drifting apart.
If I have to choose a date, then I
choose the day after her graduation party.
I do not want to go into details about that because of the hurt and
humiliation involved. There are certain
things that happen in life that the very thought of them is just so dangerous
that they cannot be acknowledged. Like when I think of what happened, it still
takes my breath away because I think, “Wait. That had to have been some other
family. Not mine.” Anyway, I think that’s
when the first major fissure occurred, and the reason (at least, in my opinion)
is because I chose her dad over her. Even now, two years later, I would choose him
all over again, especially in considering her
character.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
During this month, I have spent a
lot of time grappling with whether or not I am doing the right thing. After a particularly difficult visit and
exchange at the lake, where we celebrated her birthday, I sent a desperate
email to the pastor at the church we have been attending. I was desperate for some quality, Biblical
advice, and he certainly delivered. The
gist of the email was that I needed to stop chasing after her and allowing her
to make me her personal whipping post.
He continued: “I would guess that you receive most of her vitriol because you are the
one who stretches the boundary. Stop. The prodigal son made it
quite clear he was not interested in his father’s counsel or help. So the
father didn’t try to interfere when his son started making poor choices.
He simply kept his heart soft toward his son, so when the day came for
his return, he would be welcomed without hesitation. That’s your biggest
challenge now. How do you keep your heart soft toward a daughter who has
rejected you? Remember the cross. Jesus kept his heart soft toward
his executioners.”
So I decided to just back way
off. Just stand in one spot and wait for
her to come to me. The unintended result of this decision has been a total
freeze in communication. I did not
expect that. From my perspective, my
communicative inaction is not due to anger or bitterness. I am just following through on advice, and
believe me, it has required extreme willpower at times to do so. Let me explain.
Throughout the month (as well as
throughout the last couple of years), I have experienced some low lows with
regard to this kid and her behavior. It’s
not that she is a bad person or that I do not love her. It is just that she has made and (I believe)
she continues to make decisions that do not reflect the way in which she was
raised, the values of this family or our beliefs, or her best interests.
Unfortunately, the time of day in
which I struggle the most is not day; it is night. The 3 a.m.s are worst. For whatever reason, this is usually the “witching”
hour for me. I wake, I moan, I toss, I
turn, and imagine the most macabre and improbable, absolutely absurd scenarios involving
her. My paranoid, anguished mind must release all the unfinished business that
I have repressed throughout the day. While all of the scenarios are extreme and
(hopefully) delusional, they seem utterly plausible at the time. They are literally my worst nightmares bubbling
to the surface to traumatize me on a nightly basis.
At first, I would counter-attack by
beginning a fervent round of prayer to obliterate these scenarios. That brought a measure of piece. I will admit, however, that I am just plain
tired. Worn down by the constant
emotional battering of these nocturnal incubi, which is what I really believe
they are, demons sent by Satan to make matters seem worse, horrifying, hopeless.
I still pray, but somewhat anemically. I
have faith that the means are insignificant compared to the end that God has in
mind for her, for me. . .but at 3 a.m., my defenses are weak.
And there is my struggle. Am I doing the right thing? In moments of weakness, I have had my phone
in my hand, ready to send a text to her, and it takes all the will power in my
head and body to put the phone down and think of something else. But is this the right thing to do?
I will admit, and I hope that I do
not come off as sounding too pompous in saying this, that I feel a little like
Job at times, especially within this last month. I realize that life is rough for everyone,
and that we all face hardships and trials, but I feel as though I have been
given more than my fair share lately. As
I read that line, it sounds so pathetic.
Such a whiner. But that’s how I
feel. A friend’s serious illness.
Unexpected financial difficulties. Job
challenges. I have always said that life
is bearable when at least one area of your life is going well. For example, if work sucks, it is bearable if
your family life is ok. Well, my family
is not ok. While it’s true that things
are fine with my husband, son, and our extended families, I cannot say that my
family is ok because there is someone missing at the table. This leads me to my next thought. . .I have
not said this aloud to anyone and only just shared this thought with my friend
a couple of days ago because I did not want to make a faulty comparison or
belittle someone else’s experience, but
I feel like my daughter has
died. In some ways, MY daughter has. But
I can’t say anything like that aloud. . .to anyone. I
envision people rolling their eyes in disgust at me. “Ugh.
Your daughter is alive; she’s just being a brat. Quit being such a drama queen. Think of the people who WANT to see and touch
their daughter and CAN’T. You CAN.”
And I agree. My circumstance IS different. But here is my rebuttal:
It FEELS as though my daughter has
died. In death, the physical
relationship between two people ends. The
pain is in the separation because it is an undesirable end. My grief is different because my daughter is
not dead. Not only is there the pain of
separation; there is the brutal reality that she chooses separation and no longer wants a relationship. She is so
close – right across town – and so very far away. Unreachable. The reality of that is so very
painful but so completely socially unacceptable to say, and so, it all stays
locked inside, finally making its way out at 3 a.m.
So here I am. One month out, wondering when and where this
will all end. I have mentally prepared
for the fact that this could be my reality for years versus weeks or
months. God is in control of the end
game, of that I am 100% sure. I don’t waver in that belief. Ever.
He is also in charge of the timeline, not me. And as He has demonstrated again and again,
His timeline is always perfect, so I don’t question that either. I also know that this Divine Comedy (meaning,
it will have a happy ending) is more
than just about Erika. It is also about
me.
Even though I am one of the players
in this drama, I am able to take on a third person omniscient point-of-view to
know that God is working a transformation in me as well. And while I may not like the circumstances and
complications surrounding this plot, I know that the denouement will be worth
it – that things will end far better than they started and that I will be
closer to the person He wants me to be.
With that in mind, I willingly and humbly submit. If the present troubles, difficulties, and
heartaches mean that I will be closer to Him and closer to the person He needs (not just desires) me to be, then
bring it, Lord.
“For we walk by faith, not by
sight.” II Corinthians 5:7
I gave myself an hour to write, and
now, my hours is up. Right now, the words of the song, “Thy Will Be Done,” by
Hillary Scott, are significant and have become my prayer. Look it up on
youtube.
I’m so confused
I know I heard you loud and clear
So, I followed through
Somehow I ended up here
I don’t wanna think
I may never understand
That my broken heart is a part of
your plan
When I try to pray
All I’ve got is hurt and these
four words.”
Chorus:
Thy will be done (x3).
Thy will be done (x3).
I know you’re good
But this don’t feel good right
now
And I know you think
Of things I could never think
about
It’s hard to count it all joy
Distracted by the noise
Just trying to make sense
Of all your promises
Sometimes I gotta stop
Remember that you’re God / And I
am not / So …
Thy will be done (X3)
Like a child on my knees all that
comes to me is
Thy will be done (X2)
Thy will.
I know you see me
I know you hear me, Lord
Your plans are for me
Goodness you have in store.
I know you see me
I know you hear me, Lord.
No comments:
Post a Comment