Wednesday, December 31, 2003

(TRISH)I was inspired by Chris’ blog today. Wow. To be so honest. I have quietly struggled all during the holidays and always do. To read emails (from my family) telling me of stories and memories my parents are building with my brother and sister’s kids and they don’t even know mine! They send me a check every year and this year they even said they didn’t know what size my kids were or what they would want. This is not the heritage I want for my kids. I yearn for my parents approval even to this day and I know that it will never happen. More this year than ever. And the challenge for me is to accept it and move on. I cannot allow the enemy a stronghold in this any more. I have never really shared my personal story with my blog friends, but here is a mini synopsis.

I was born to a couple of kids. They didn’t have to get married, they just did. They broke up for a while and tried to reconcile and there came me. Mom was 19 when I was born. My blood father abandoned us. He doesn’t like me to believe this, but I do especially since he has lame excuses about why he didn’t bother to look me up for 14 years. Any way, my mom wasn’t stable to begin with. She had terrible issues of her own. She was in NO way prepared for a child. She told me once that she wanted to give me up but her parents wouldn’t let her. She spent her pregnancy alone. She had me on Jan 26 right after a terrible blizzard had blown through St. Louis. She told me she didn’t even want to hold me. She hated me from the womb because I changed her life. She didn’t want me and made it obvious just about daily. Except at Christmas. The one time of year I felt love from her. She always gave us a wonderful Christmas, attitude and all. I would venture to guess this was at least one time of year my Dad got laid. She was always so happy. I used to wish it was Christmas all the time. Then when I was 8, my mom was pregnant with my sister and I was making comments like, I’ve got Daddy’s eyes or ears and they decided to tell me that my Daddy wasn’t my blood Daddy. I was different. I was hurt and confused. I love my Dad and he adopted me and raised me as his own and I was devastated beyond what I can express to find out that they had lied to me all those years. This was also around Christmas.

My parents divorced when I was 13. I was experimenting with drugs/ sex & rock & roll. They didn’t know what to do with me because my family was Mormon and I didn’t fit their MOLD. Instead of asking me what was wrong or attempting to help me, they shipped me away. Between the ages of 13 & 17, I lived in 11 different homes. Including my blood father whom I had only met once. And when I look back, I wasn’t really all that bad compared to stories I’ve since heard from other addicts, etc. I lived in a fog because reality was tooooooo painful. No body wanted me. This is only a short version of the whole story. My struggle to this day at times is wondering if Jesus really wants me. Does he really love me? How could he? Noone else did??

I have spent a lot of years beating myself up because I still suffer emotionally over this. I thought that since I am a blood bought Christian that I should have been healed a long time ago. Perhaps I don’t have faith. Perhaps I am not really saved. These are questions I’ve asked over and over again! But, the wonderful thing of all of this is that God has allowed me to counsel hurting people. To listen to their pain. To help them walk through the other side. Like Chris, I think some wounds just won’t heal. I too will not allow the enemy to keep me down. I will hold my head up high and walk through this. Yearning to see what God has in store and seeing my children’s beautiful faces has kept me trucking on. And the amazing encouragement from my husband who has so faithfully loved me every time I get down. Who has prayed for me for years. Who has stood by me no matter what. Who has shown me love and tenderness that noone else has. He is my family and I am blessed. Chris showed me today that we feel so alone and yet, we aren’t. Through our own wounds, we can help heal others. Thank you Chris. Thank you for telling the truth.

1 comment:

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