A "Sort of" Love Letter

Why didn't someone tell me how difficult it would be to be your mother?  Not because you are difficult but because you have broken my heart like no other man has.  Child of my heart.  Child of my broken heart.  Boy of my young, selfish, immature love.

I wanted you to be a girl.  So much so I cried and cried walking around a store after the ultrasound.  I was going to name you Erica.

Actually, the crying was probably more for the other man who has come the closest to the breaking of my heart.  The one who left me, alone, heart crushed, dreams ruined, in a state far away from home, with no money, no job, no friends, nothing.  The one I thought I would be with forever.  God knowing what only He knows, that was not the right place or person for me.  How foolish I was in trying to force God's hand.  Make this man-boy a respectable husband-father.  He had no idea who he was or what he wanted.  Except he knew he didn't want me, round with his child, clingy with neediness.

He didn't reject you.  He didn't know you.  You were yet to be, but I'm sure it feels like rejection.

Is this why you struggle?  Why you fight so hard?  Why it is so difficult for me to do the necessary things to help you grow?  How odd, I sit here now, tears flowing.  Heart breaking all over again.  Thinking back to a place I had hoped never to return.  But sometimes it is good to look back.

To see how far you've come.

I am so thankful for the here and now.  The life that is; this house that has Christ and life and love; the marriage that nurtures, sustains, gives joy.  How, looking back, I would never choose that over this.  How this man who initially gave life to you, whom you are physically made of, is nothing of the man I really wanted.  But before I knew Jesus, before my love for Him was a vibrant current in my soul, I thought I could go my own way.  Get what I wanted my way.  Be given value by a man.

This is what you fight against now.  Your own way.  Your heart strains against what you perceive to be confines, holding you back from all that you think you want.  Your young mind hasn't opened to the eyes that discern the Truth that illuminates your way.  Your tough exterior that you have built up to protect yourself only keeps everything out:  good and bad alike.  So while you have no visible depth of sorrow (for it is still there, hidden deep away) you also do not know soul-piercing joy.  

How I long for you to accept His grace.  Accept that you are a broken man-child.  Hurting from oh.so.many.things.  Fearful to take a chance.  Searching for acceptance and validation from other broken, hurting people of this world.  I want to witness more of the integrity that is within you that you attempt to crush with your "coolness" and "style".

I long to hear that you have obtained the salvation that is in Jesus Christ, with eternal glory.  I want to find joy in knowing that you are walking in the truth.  I am praying for you to grow in grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  Please listen to instruction and be wise; do not disregard it.

I so want this to be quick and soon.  But God has His plans of which I know nothing of.  Although I do know that He wants all to come to repentance.  It is in repentance and rest where you salvation lies, and in quietness and trust is your strength.  Will you have none of it?  He longs to be good to you, my restless child.  Won't you open your heart?  Hear the words of our Father, calling out to you, bringing you ever closer to Him?  

Even now, as I pour out these words, your heart is breaking.  You are experiencing pain unlike what you've experienced before.  It is coming.  This "growing".  Necessary but not wanted in this way.  Is it unfortunate that we all find a need to learn this way?  The hard way?  I don't think so.  The lessons we gain from this difficulty are better remembered.  Never have we had the promise of a perfect life, only that we will have the One who is above all things walking with us.  Made even more evident as the world lets us down and we realize there is only One who will never do that.

It is in our pain that we manage to seek Him more diligently.

It is in heartbreak that we cry out.

I have been praying in my broken sleep.  I wake with your name and Jesus' name on my lips and in my soul.  My heart is moved and the anger that was swelling just yesterday has been tempered by love.  For I know where you are, I've been there myself.

It's in the loving where the pain lies.  Loving, truly loving as God intends it, gives us eyes to see.  Makes us vulnerable.  Draws on compassion.  Links us together by sufferings that are known by both.

Child with a broken heart.  Child of my healed heart.