Oct. 2022
It started as an invitation. To know one of my children better. To listen. To be present in ways I wasn’t in years past. I knew I had made mistakes. There was always an ache, a longing for things to be different, things I couldn’t change. So I crafted a tidy life around it, throwing up buffers when the failures would sneak into my consciousness. There’s nothing I can do about it now, I would tell myself. Sure, I wish things were different, but they weren’t and I couldn’t go back in time to change anything. I’d apologized, I thought. Sincerely apologized. I truly felt sorry for so many things. But, in self protection, I hadn’t ventured too deep into the hurts. The events where I wasn’t the victim, but the perpetrator, though I never thought of myself as that. But, it’s true.
I think I have felt like a victim much of my life. Believing no one really loved me or wanted to be around me. Never good enough. Never bringing much of value to the table. Feeling better in the background, alone in many ways. I liked being alone and still do. It gives me space. I can’t disappoint there. It’s just me and my thoughts. No judgement of them. My imagination brings me into the deep as waves roll over me, my senses alive. Here, I am full. Here I am safe. Here, I am calm. A victim to no one. Here, it is me.
I’ve always felt joyful, in general. I believe I am generally happy. Except when the darkness closes in. Not the physical darkness, but the type of darkness that taunts: “You’re not good enough. You could’ve done better. It’ll never get better. You’ll never change. You’ve tried, a million times. Why bother anymore?” But, otherwise joy. Joy at new possibilities. Joy at the simple things: a gentle breeze on my cheek, the sunshine, dew on the grass in the early morning, snow that looks like fairy frosting on the trees, the absolute quiet of a cold, winter day with a bright blue sky, my favorite spot to sit in the winter out back in the woods, catching some afternoon sun, the nighttime sky with the majesty of the heavens displayed against a black back drop. The list goes on and on. So many things bring me pure joy. I find them best experienced alone, not jaded from another’s comments or experience.
But, this day I confronted the darkness. I thought I was pretty bold sitting there, willing to listen to my failures. What I wasn’t prepared for was the embarrassment of my failures. Memories brought back that I’d pushed into the recesses. They were easily accessible but fell into the department of ‘I can’t change it now’. It was a deep wound to one of my precious children. I very much felt the darkness closing in around me. “You are a failure”, “You are the cause of this…you are darkness itself”. I heard a deep, taunting from darkness itself. It drove me to despair. I believed I could never be relieved of the guilt. God was incapable of loving me. I knew I was forgiven. But, loved. Not possible.
I wept in silence after that meeting. Unwilling to speak about it. Wallowing in my misery, my unfixable failures. The darkness screaming at me in my silence. But, the Lord ministered to me. He pursued me into my darkness. He met me there. He didn’t drag me out. He sat with me and taught me again, His Love for me. He is greater than my mistakes. His love reaches to the greatest depths. There is nowhere I can go that He can’t reach me. The blood of His son, Jesus, is all He sees when He sees me. He loves my children more than I ever could. He has them in His hand. They are His to tend to. Slowly, I have walked out of the darkness. It is His Word that reminds me who I am. I am not called to live in darkness. I am called to rejoice in my Savior, to honor God, to love Him with all my heart, all my mind, all my soul…with my entire being.
So, I leave the darkness and ask for His strength to entrust my children to His loving care. To heal the wounds in their lives, even the ones that have my name on them.
I have followed your writings for some time now and am always so drawn into that world you describe so beautifully....even with the pain, the sorrow, the hope, the rejoicing, all so eloquently done. Continue using this wonderful gift that has been given to you!
Excellent, engaging, thoughtful work. Well done! ✍️👏