When I was in my pre-teens, my parents had been separated for awhile... We lived alternating weeks, one at moms, one at dads. My mom was living in this little house that she rented for dirt cheap from a little church in town. It was a chaotic time in everyone's life. Mom was drinking...a lot. She had been dating a couple different men on and off. She was building kind of a reputation in town for herself.... and what felt like, for me too. I was trying to balance a normal teenage life - school, friends, fun with a heavy, shameful, secret life at home.... and beginning to crumble under the weight.
I remember one afternoon in our little house, I headed down to the basement to throw the load of wash that, my mom had put in earlier for me, in to the dryer. As I took the clothes out, I realized that she had placed all my clothes (I have already shared how much I love clothes) in the wash together instead of separating them... and now some of my colors had bled onto my whites...... I was furious..... I had minimal clothes to begin with, and no money to buy more. Clothes were everything to me then!
I started screaming, and crying. My mom rushed downstairs.
I remember looking straight at her and letting the pent up words fly out of my mouth, through the tears of utter crisis.
"You are so stupid! How could you be so stupid! I hate you! I hate this house! I hate living here with you! You are so stupid!"
I can still see the look on her face. I can still see the shock and the pain of the arrows of my words that were piercing her heart. Her eyes were so sad, so guilty, so ashamed of herself.
I broke her heart.
I remember watching as the tears fell from her eyes, and she turned to run upstairs, not even saying a word.
I immediately regretted everything I said.
As I watched her go upstairs, I was instantly panicked. The look in her eyes was not just one of emotional hurt, my words had gone deeper than I ever meant for them to.
What did I do?
I ran upstairs after her, to find her locked in the bathroom. I banged on the door, I could hear her sobs.
"Mom, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Open the door... please open the door!"
In the pit of my stomach I knew that everything was not okay. I knew she was hurting herself.
I could hear a pill bottle. I started to scream and bang the door.
"Mom, please open the door!"
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she did
Mascara streaked her face, pills in hand (I wasn't sure if she had swallowed any or not)
I just stood there and looked at her, no idea what I needed to do.
I called her best friend who lived a few doors down, and said "You need to get over here, mom needs you!".
She was there within minutes.
My next memory is of me and my little sister, sitting on the couch listening to muffled cries from my mom in the kitchen as she talked with her friend.
All my fault
When I was at Mercy, my counsellor had asked me to write down any significant experiences from my childhood that I wanted to work through. I listed a few obvious ones. This one popped up in my head. I had actually hardly remembered this moment, and I really debated writing it down because I didn't think it would classify as significant. I decided to anyway...... and thank God I did.
When we had worked our way down to this item on my list, I remember relaying the same story I just told you, to my counsellor. I was calm, and cool, and distant as I recalled the details.
When I was done, she said "I want you to go out in the back yard, and spend some time with God"
Okay?
So I went outside, pulled a chair out into the middle of the grass...... and sat...... and stared.
I was a little annoyed, I didn't know what it was that she expected me to do out here.... I thought she was supposed to work through these things with me?
After awhile, I just thought, "Okay, I'm just going to remember that day in my head and see what happens....."
Now in my head:
I was back down in the basement, finding my ruined clothes in the washer. I could see myself screaming, and my mom coming down. I could see it like I was watching a movie. I was blurting out words I would later regret, and her face looked like she had been utterly pulverized and flattened as a human.
Except, I saw something else this time.
I saw Him as clear as day. He was standing right next to me. I was facing my mom, Yelling in her face, and He was facing me.
Jesus
I couldn't hear the words that I was saying, as I watched, but I was so struck by the way that He was looking at me. He looked like His heart was breaking, but not in the same way as my mom's was.
His heart was breaking for me. He wasn't looking at me, He was looking in me. He didn't hear the hurtful, disrespectful words of my mouth.
He heard the words of my heart.... and suddenly, so could I.
"Mom, I hate this life. I'm so scared. I can't handle this. I feel like my world is falling apart. I don't feel safe here.... I don't feel safe anywhere! I never know when you will come home drunk... or even if you will come home at all. I'm scared of your these men, I don't like them in our home. I'm scared to leave dad at home by himself because my heart breaks that he's lonely. I'm ashamed of this life I have. I'm ashamed of myself. I wish I could be a normal kid and have fun without the weight of this heavy life. I don't want to be responsible. I'm not strong enough to carry you.... and everyone. I wish I could lean on you. I wish I could lean on someone. Help me mom! Help me! I'm hurting. I'm so broken and scared."
He didn't have to say anything. The way that my mom's eyes said everything. So did His, as they flooded my heart.
"Christina, I see you. I'm listening. I'm so sorry that you are hurting. I'm so sorry that you feel so much pain, and fear. It's all going to be okay. I love you. You are safe with me. I've got you. I'm holding your heart. You are cherished. You are Precious. You are so very beautiful to Me. You are good.
I'm here. I love you. I love you."
I was undone. I sat out in that field, and sobbed.
All those years of guilt. All the weight and responsibility, feeling like I was the reason for my mom to want to end her life. All those years of hating myself for being such a mean, awful person.
All those years of silence, never sharing my heart, fearing the damaging words that would come out.
Release
That was a precious moment for me
I think that is why I am so passionate about seeing people's hearts behind what they say and do........ Heart words and verbal words can be vastly different!
And I am learning, as much as Jesus sees my heart when I don't say the right words or act the right way. As much as He knows the why behind the what. I live on earth with other humans who don't.
A few days ago, I said some words to Trevor out of my own hurt, and fear. Words said in the furious heat of the moment..... even as they were leaving my lips, I regretted them. Even more so as I saw, and have seen in the past couple of days, the effects of my careless outburst.
I disrespected him in an area where he gives everything of himself..... Loving Me.
I hurt him.
What sucks about words... are, you can't take them back. I apologized, heartfelt repentance. "I am so sorry I said those things. I am so sorry I hurt your heart"
No matter how sorry I am, no matter how much I didn't mean what I said.......
The words remain
Trevor forgave me, but I can't seem to let it go in my own heart. I try to picture Jesus, once again, looking into my heart, calling me beautiful, and cherished, and loved as I'm saying those terrible things to the one I so desperately love. To the gift that God has given me to Love and cherish and respect.
I can't
The longing of my heart is to Love Trevor, to see him, to hear him, to be a safe place for his heart. I want to Love him, and love him well...... but I can't.
Like every other area in my life, I can "do good", do all the right things for a time... and then in a moment.... in my weakness, with one word, I can tear it all down.
I need God to help me to speak what is really in my heart, and not lash out. I really really need His help with this. I need God's help to move from just trusting Him to hear what my heart is saying, and to courageously let Trevor hear.
I'm starting to realize my own language of fear (The language I have been speaking for most of my life) and to interpret it.
Sadly, I can't go back in time and gather up the verbal garbage spilled everywhere, pull the sharp arrows from his heart, sew up the wound and say calmly, and respectfully what my heart was saying but my mouth couldn't. My mouth says a lot of things that I don't understand, that I don't mean. When I point the accusing finger. When I find fault, use sharp words, attack, blame, and criticize. When nothing is ever good enough. When I say things that tell you I don't care about your feelings or respect you .... My heart is really saying,
" I do care. I do love you. I truly do respect you.
I'm just scared. I'm so scared that you will stop loving me. I see all the things I do wrong, all the bad parts of me and I don't understand how you could love me. I try to do it right. I try to show that love you. I try to be this person, this wife that I long to be... but I'm not good enough. I fail continuously.
I'm so sorry.
I feel so guilty for everything I have put you through, and I want to make it up to you. I want to give back. You've given me so much.
You are so amazing, and loving, and kind, and such a good person. I don't deserve you. I don't feel good enough for you. I'm scared that you will realize that you could deserve so much better than me. I'm scared that you will realize that I am not worth it. I'm scared that I will break you too.
I need you. You are the most precious thing in my life. I have nothing but love and respect for you. You are my hero.
I'm scared you will realize how great you are and leave me..... I don't think I would survive that. I barely survived my mom leaving.
There is no excuse for treating you disrespectfully, even in my own fear. I'm so sorry for that. I know that I need to change. You deserve to be treated lovingly."
Father,
My heart is a mess.
Wrong thoughts in my head.
I'm standing on a sandy foundation of inaccurate beliefs about myself, You, and others.
I give myself to you. I need You to change me. To change things in my relationship with You and Trevor. God, I need Your thoughts about me in my head. Please help me, Abba.
This was the Joseph Prince devotional this morning:
Beloved, God doesn’t want you to worry! He wants you to know that when you place your problems into His hands, you are not just letting go, but allowing His abundant supply to flow right into that very area of need.
I place my heart in Your hands. It's pretty breakable.
I'm scared. Help me to see Your heart again, to remember who You are.
Help me to receive Your Love, so that I can be free to Love.
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