I Am A Woman Of Worth

I am tired today. It's been a long, difficult week. I'm glad that I am seeing a counselor; that will help me sort myself out.

I am continuing to do the fun things in my life. My knitting girls are my lifeline. I look forward to Wednesday nights. They give me a chance to be me, fun, happy, creative. I'm glad that I have a creative bent. I express myself in my art, be it knitting, gardening, quilting. I express myself in the colors and patterns I choose. I'm proud when I conquer a difficult stitch combination.

My good friend gave me some wise advise. Take some time each day to think and grieve, and then choose to think about and do other things. Don't become consumed by mourning. Feel my feelings and don't deny them, but take charge of them and redirect them.

So I am giving that a good effort. I play Farmville, which just makes me happy. It's a silly little game, but it makes me smile. It's a wonderful diversion.  I knit every day. I snuggle my grandchildren every day. I refuse anxiety. I refuse fear. I refuse to think of all the what ifs. I am choosing strength. Do I always succeed? Nope. But I will pick myself up, dust myself off and continue.

I am a valuable person. Having an estranged son does not diminish my worth. It does not mean I was a bad parent.

I deserve to be loved. I deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. I may set boundaries that are as stringent as I need.

I am a woman of incredible worth.

Grief

I wonder if the father of the prodigal in the Bible grieved while his son was  away and wandering. Did he weep, wondering where his boy was, whether he was dead or alive. We know that he kept watch for him, hoping to see him again. I know it's a parable, we aren't given that answer. 

I am grieving. Hard.  I feel rejected. I feel thrown away. 

I was a great mom and it wasn't enough...

Reflections

Reflecting today. I worked so hard to build character into my son. I knew from the time he was small that his conscience  is not wired properly. He doesn't think things are wrong unless he gets caught. We worked and worked and worked. He has lied as a lifestyle since he was small. No matter the consequences, no matter the hurt he caused, he continued and continues to lie. I think sometimes he can't separate the lies from reality. He goes to great lengths to fabricate a story.

He has lost two jobs at least because of lying or dishonesty. I don 't understand. It's not the example he lived with. It's not what we taught him. 

How many times did I believe him, defend him when he was really lying. It was very confusing to be his mom when he was in school. I remember the first time he tried to steal something when he was with me in the store. He was about ten. He came out of a lane with his hand firmly over his pocket looking guilty. He denied having anything in his pocket until I pried his hand away. I made him put the gum back and we left, me furious, he shedding crocodile tears. 

Every mom wants to believe her child, especially when they claim to be hurting or unjustly treated. How many times did I come to his aid when he was the one hurting others or the one at fault? How many times did he use me to get him out of a scrape?

When he was around nine I got a call from a social worker after my son returned from a respite outing. A watch and $20 were missing and they were pretty sure my son had it. I defended him up and down. Now, all these years later, I wonder...

My son stole money from us all the time. He took money from my purse and then lied to my face. He stole money out of my change jar and his sister's change jar with absolutely no remorse. 

I remember one time going to school and demanding he give my money back. He had the audacity to tell him I must have lost my money, but he would give me his and just go hungry. That was a scene repeated many times over. 

I know I didn't go wrong, but what did? How is it that I did everything "right" according to his doc, social workers, counselors, and have him  "turn out" so badly? 

Why is it that he is so manipulative, yet allows a woman to manipulate him?

How could he go from a seemingly loving and loyal son, brother and uncle to a cold, calculating human being?

Was his love and loyalty ever real? Did he behave lovingly and loyally because it suited and met his needs and that's all there was too it? It's hard to consider that; what other explanation is there?

Who IS this man??

He is not the loving little boy that I snuggled with. He's not the young adult who gave me bear hugs everyday and called me just to talk. He's not the teenager who prayed by my bedside when I had a migraine, or the young man who came to a teaching/healing conference and had his scars from cutting removed by God.  Why has he strayed so far? 

He is a stranger.

Joy Comes in the Morning

"But I will sing about your strength. In the morning I will joyfully sing about your mercy. You     have been my stronghold and a place of safety in times of trouble." Psalm 59:16

Leading worship leads me into Joy! Entering God's presence in His sanctuary brings abounding joy.

God is my stronghold. He is my strong tower, my rock of refuge. He lets me hide under his wings when it's too scary, or hard, or dark. He quiets me with his singing ( Zeph 3:17) Wow.

I feel a deep peace today. Peace that I have been lacking. My focus has been on my son instead of on my God. My God is able to do immeasurably more than I can ask or imagine. I haven't been imagining that God can do anything with my son. Oops! Bad, bad thinking.

Yes, I grieve. Yes, I hurt. Yes, I feel rejected.   But my God heals me broken heart, binds up my wounds and will never leave me or forsake me. This is what I must hang my hat on when I am feeling low.
How is it that I make things so complicated? Where is my childlike faith? Why do I try to deal with my hurt and pain alone, thinking that God doesn't care to be involved?

Psalm 27 :13  I am still confident( hopeful) of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.

Feeling Sad

Been talking with a young soldier friend who is in Iraq. Facebook chat is a wonderful thing. He knows my son and is very eager to talk with him when he gets home this fall. I'm glad about that. Maybe he will listen....maybe not. My son did not call on his sister's birthday. I really didn't expect him too, but I suppose I was hoping somewhere down deep that he would. One more sign that the rift is deep, wide, like a chasm that opens in a glacier, bottomless.Will things ever be OK again? I don't know. It's been six months. Six months. I never dreamed that this child, the one who clung to me as a young child, boy, adolescent, who seemed to love me so much has willingly dropped out of my life. This child who called me every day from school. 

Then I wonder--why did he cling? Out of love, or need? Because he knew I would be sympathetic and he could get something from me? All the times he "missed" the bus on purpose so I would take him out to the tech school.

I feel the fool for believing him all the times he told me things that didn't quite add up. I took my son's side as any mom would I suppose. I feel the fool for believing him the last year when he told me he needed money and couldn't pay his bills. 

I'm angry that he stiffed his landlord for $1200 when he was making a lot of money. I'm angry that he is drinking his check away. Angry that he is allowing a woman to manipulate and use him, to use the very characteristics that are destructive in him to get what she wants from him. 

Angry that he has left a small niece and a small nephew wondering where their uncle is; crying for him night after night until I told them that he is all mixed up right now and can't be here. They are too little to hear the truth.

Where can I find hope today? In my God, whose mercies are new every morning. In my God, who only lets a person go so far before He says, "Enough." In my  God, who sings over me and watches me through the night. 
In my God, who can make dead things live again. 

May the God of Hope fill me with joy and peace today. 

Today I Celebrate

Twenty eight years ago today I gave birth to a baby girl. She has grown to be a woman now with babies of her own. They are all my pride and joy. Daughter, granddaugther, grandson.  I love them so much. So today I celebrate. I count my blessings. My husband who loves me so much he would move heaven and earth, if it were in his power, to make me happy. My daughter, her children. My home-modest by American standards but a mansion to 3/4 of the world. Summer. Butterflies. Birds. Tree frogs. :) Fresh veggies from the garden. KNITTING!!!  Making cute things for the people I love and watching them enjoy them. 

Of course I think of my son today, how he will not be part of the celebration. I doubt he will even think about his sister today. He might, but I doubt it.

Even so, today I choose to celebrate.

Another Day

Another day. An early morning! I have awakened at 4am the last two mornings for no apparent reason. It's nice to have the alone time. But I will need a nap so I can go to knitting tonight! I love my knitting groups. I love knitting. Making one stitch after another, one loop and twist, one increase, one decrease. Knitting is a lot like life. Sometimes I look at the pattern and I can't quite envision what the creator had in mind.  Then I start knitting and the pattern starts to form. It is beautiful. Sometimes I have no idea what my Abba Father has in mind when I am in the midst of being knotted, wound tightly around the needle, twisted around the back of the fabric. Then I look back and see the beauty He is working in me.  

I wonder what He is working in my son's life. I think perhaps God will have some frogging to do with him ( "rip it, rip it, rip it") in order to restore him to Himself. My son has the appearance of godliness, but does not live a godly life. He goes to church twice on Sunday, but one would not know from his lifestyle. He takes the wine of communion, then desecrates himself in the bar by getting so drunk he can't walk out. 

I need hope. Hope is "my" word. I am having a difficult time clinging to Hope. In fact I have no Hope that my son will return. I have no Hope that I will ever be able to trust him again. I need Hope....

Today I am Hurting

Today I am hurting. I am grieving for a son. He in not dead. He is not far away, in fact he lives about a mile from here. He has just stopped being a son. I am waiting. Not daring to hope that he will ever be a part of my life again. Wondering why he has chosen a life of deceit. Cheating. Stealing. Lying. He is entangled with a woman who is dangerous. Controlling. Manipulative. Dangerous.

He has broken my heart. I wonder why he is who he is. I wonder why he prefers  dishonesty to truth. I wonder why he has disowned his family and destroyed his sister's reputation. I wonder if he ever really loved us. I wonder if he ever really loved me. Or was he just playing a game? Laughing on the inside while he fed me lies and watched me believe them? Or is he so disturbed that he believes his lies? I don't know which is more upsetting. Which would I choose?

I am grieving. Over all the things I now know to be falsehood. I once trusted that he was telling me the truth. I am grieving. Over  once having a loyal and protective son. Now there is a hole in my heart that he should be filling.I am grieving over a family now shattered by hurt, hate and distrust. Someday I hope that I can hope.

But not today. Today I am hurting.