two days after Christmas…..

the call came mid-afternoon, not necessarily surprising me, but definitely not what i’d wanted to hear.  she broke the rules again, and this time, there was no second chance.  she decided to stay out all night the night before, and she got caught.  she had less than 8 hours to be out.

what was i supposed to say?  i sat there, listening to her sob on the phone, knowing full well that she’d asked for this.  knowing that we’d warned her, knowing that she’d already been given a second chance where she lived.  she begged me to let her come home, saying that we can trust her now.  oh really?  we can trust her?  i found it pretty ironic that she could say that after she just violated the rules where she was at, after she’d lied to and deceived her case worker the whole 3 months that she lived there.  but that’s how she works….the rules don’t apply to her.

it broke my heart to adamantly tell her that she can’t come home, that we can’t trust her, and that she asked for this.  she knew i was right and she didn’t argue.  she just sobbed.

my brother-in-law dropped her off at a shelter later that night.

a parent never imagines her child being homeless or having to tell her that she can’t come home.  it’s devastating, believe me.  i could barely sleep that night, imagining what’s happening to her or what type of people she’s befriending in the shelter.

she managed to make a “friend” who knew the ropes, and she followed him from the night shelter to the day shelter the next day.  they walked, they rode the bus, and they hung out in restaurants trying to keep warm until the next evening shelter opened up.

she called often, filling me in on her status, and enjoying the new friend who seemed to take her under his wing.

on her second night of being homeless she was “rescued”.

she’s landed safe once again.

she’s settled in where she’s at and, in her own words “she has moved on with her life”.

must be nice that she’s moved on.

i’m glad she’s safe and she’s in a family situation that seems healthy for her.

but what about us?  what about the brokenness that is still very real and painful in the hearts of her father and i?  what about her younger siblings who can’t comprehend why she left in the first place?  all they know is that she claims to love and aodre them, yet all she does is hurt them.

i’ve forgiven her, i really have.  but i’m not like her.  i can’t hurt those i love, over and over again, and expect them to just forgive and forget and move on until the next time i hurt them.  it’s been almost 14 months since the day she first walked out and we’ve been to hell and back numerous times since.

i know God’s in this.  i know he is good and i trust him.

but i long for and ache for a real relationship with my daughter.  i’m tired of the superficial “relationship” that we have with her.  i’m tired of pretending that things are sweet between us, and saying what she wants to hear.  i’m her mom, yet i feel as though we’re strangers.

Day after Christmas…

Christmas has come and gone, and today my heart is filled with bittersweet emotions….

She was here for Christmas and I am glad to say that it went better than I expected.

It was a good day, with a sweetness that outlined the sadness in my heart.

When it was time for her to leave, there was the familiar tug in my heart…wanting to hold on to her for dear life and not let go, and the tug of knowing she’s going back to life her way, bringing devastation to herself and her family.

My husband took her home, along with my second oldest daughter, and I stayed home with the other three and got them to bed.

Not five minutes after getting them to bed, my oldest son comes down crying and unloads his hurting heart.

He cried over the loss we’ve experienced with our oldest daughter, over the pain that she’s caused, and over the ache he feels because of the way things are.

As I held him and let him cry, my heart broke for him. I wanted to tell him that it’ll all be ok and that it won’t hurt for long, but that’s a promise I can’t make.

Inside, I was screaming—screaming because I wish my younger kids didn’t have to know such sorrow at a young age.

Yet, at the same time, I was reminding myself of what I know to be true—that God is in this, and that he WILL use this sorrow and pain in my kids lives, just as he has in mine. I believe that, and I have to hang on to that hope….it’s all I have.

It blows my mind that she has no idea the deep, deep hurt that she caused her family. She hasn’t had to see the hours and hours my husband and I have spent comforting each other and our younger kids, and she has no idea the mountains of emotions we’ve had to sort through—and still sort through.

It’s not that I want her to know what we’ve experienced, or that I want her to feel bad, but I wonder if she knew even an inkling, if she would make different choices and change her life.

I can’t help but wonder……

Untitled

Just when I think things are less intense with her, she drops another bombshell.

 

She comes to me just yesterday, telling me of her wild weekend, and the more she talks, the sicker I feel. Literally.

 

She did things at this party–things that made my stomach turn–and yet, her biggest frustration was over losing her phone. Not the name she gave herself that night, or the risks she took as she did things that could have serious ramifications. But it was losing her phone that brought on the anger for her.

 

She has no idea that she broke my heart, yet again, or that I didn't sleep all night because I didn't know how to stop my mind from replaying our conversation over and over again. She doesn't have a clue that the details she gives me turn into movies in my mind—sad, horrifying movies that haunt me for days and weeks to come.

 

After I listened to her recount the events if this past weekend, I shared my thoughts with her. I asked her if this is really the way she wants to live her life, and if she'll be happy five years from now, still not remembering “his” name from the night before. I got the usual pat answers from her, the “I know” and “your right”, but those meant nothing to me. Nothing at all.

 

Those are the answers I've been getting for quite some time, with no action behind the words.

 

It's grief,

All.

Over.

Again.

A new “norm” this Christmas

As I sit here in these early hours before the day begins, I am struck by how peaceful our Christmas tree looks….how the lights give just the right amount of sparkle to the tree and how the new ornaments give a sense of peacefulness and “all is well”.

 

Looking at the tree, one would never know that our family has been to hell and back this past year, and that this Christmas will be extremely different from Christmases past in our home.

 

We will wake up on Christmas morning and there will only be four kids around the tree, only six of us sharing in the joy of family on Christmas morn.

 

Christmas Eve will have a different feel as well. Rather than having seven of us reading the Christmas story and sharing in our tradition of opening our stockings one by one, there will only be six…..one presence will be missing, and that missing presence will be strongly felt.

 

We could've chosen to have her here on Christmas Eve, she asked to come, but we felt that the other kids needed to have this Christmas Eve with just us, with our new norm of six. We felt that they needed to make new memories this year, ones that allow them the freedom to be themselves, and we didn't want them to be hindered by bad memories as she sat across the room.

 

It was a hard decision to not have her here, painful really, because after all, she's my baby, my firstborn, and doesn't every mom want all her babies around her on Christmas Eve? With every fiber in my body this mama longs to have her near, but I can't. Not the way things are now and not with the history looming over us of all that's happened this past year.

 

Not with all of the unresolved issues between us and the “could care less” attitude over the hurt that's been caused. No. With all that's happened, our other four babies need this Christmas Eve to be special, with our new norm of six.

 

She'll come on Christmas Day and have lunch with us and we'll do a gift exchange with her, and then later in the afternoon we'll take her home before going on to spend the evening with old friends.

 

This new way of doing Christmas will be hard, but it is what it is and it's what we have to do.

 

Though the intensity of this trial has let up, the pain is still very raw and very real.

 

This broken heart of mine still can not comprehend how the events of this past year could possibly have happened, but they did. And they've left a mark on me that will forever be.

 

There are days when I want to scream at her and ask her if she has any idea how she's hurt our family, but I know it won't do any good. And then there are days when I want to run as far away as we can–put distance between us and her–but I know that wont take away the pain.

 

She's living her life and we're trying to relearn how to live ours. It's been so hard watching my younger ones try to understand how their sister could hurt them so badly, especially when they've loved her with an unconditional love.

 

How I hate the pain the my littles have had to know, and yet, I have to tell myself that God will use this in their lives, just as he is in mine.

 

How I wish things could be different, the pain gone, but again, it is what it is. I am just trying to learn what to do with it all, the pain, the grief, and the loss….I know God's using this in my life to make me more like him. I just wish that brought me more comfort than it does……

 

and the journey begins….

there’s so much to share that i really don’t know where to begin.  so much has happened in my life in the past year alone, that i feel as though i’ve aged 10 years.

i’ll start with a brief recap of this past year….

last summer, i began to struggle with depression, to the point where i didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to function in day to day life, and couldn’t see my way out of the darkness.  i walked through that darkness for about 4 months, until God graciously delivered me and brought me out of the pit i was in.  i’ll share more about that season as time goes by.

last october, grief became depressions twin, as i lost my dad to alzheimers, after a long 9-year battle. i thought i was prepared for his death, since we’d been on the journey with him for so long, but i wasn’t prepared for the loss that i felt.

three short months later, life as we knew it turned upside down, as our 18- year-old daughter one day decided to move out.  half-way through her senior year in highschool. in the middle of winter. with no job. and with nowhere to live beyond that night.  we couldn’t have been more unprepared for that day.  we were shocked.  devastated.  this season of her being gone lasted for just over three months.  and life hasn’t been the same since.

we’ve been dealt one blow after another since that time, and some days i wonder if it will ever end.  if things will ever get better.  but i remind myself that i am a child of God, and that He will complete the work that he has begun.  and he will never leave us or forsake us.

it’s His love and his promises that get me through.  and the love and faithfulness of my amazing husband. God has been good to me.  though life is hard, and i would never have chosen this road, i can honestly say that God is good.

whatever you’re going through right now, please know that you’re not alone.   know that even though i may not know you, i care and most importantly, God cares.

thanks for stopping by today…..more to come soon.