In the car, driving home from school. My daughter pipes up, my second son joins in. He can’t bear to know there’s a conversation he’s not a part of.
She: “Mom! Me and Rashita saw a flower on the playground that closes when you touch it!”
I let the grammar slide this time.
Me: “I’ve heard of those before, but I don’t know what they’re called. They’re pretty cool, aren’t they?”
He: “Yeah it closes when something touches it, in case it’s trying to hurt it.”
This bright boy butted in saying more than he intended. He just described me. I do that. And while it’s a cool survival feature for plants, it doesn’t bode well for me.
I’ve suffered at the hands of people and I remember promising myself I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt me. That girl didn’t know any better, but that promise cost
her me a lot.
It’s not possible to avoid hurt. People are messy.
The more intimate they are, the messier the relationship, it seems. I know what it’s like to literally squirm out of my child’s hug or my husband’s embrace. And to will myself still while they hug on me as long as they need. Sounds strange coming from this passionate stay-at-home mom I know, but I made myself that promise, remember…and I feel most vulnerable with them. Loving someone is risky business, isn’t it?
PRAISE BREAK! Just want to thank you Jesus for risking it all for me, withholding nothing.
Their bad decisions not only hurt themselves, but wound the hearts of those who love them. If you can’t control their decisions, maybe you try to you control how much access they have to your heart. It’s what my parents did with us kids, a coping strategy I picked up, I suppose. But in closing up, I miss out on the complete blessing of my loved ones, God’s gifts to me.
Quite frankly, I need those hugs and kisses as much as they do. To feel loved, to feel human, and to flourish in an increasingly dark, cold world. Their love, as imperfect as themselves, but beautifully abundant, is my DADDY’s “double for my trouble” for all I missed out on growing up.
Jesus is still at work in me; healing old hurts and new, changing the tape that plays subconsciously in the background of my mind. I’m grateful for persistent love in all the forms my DADDY’s sent it (JESUS, my hubby, my kiddos, extended family, good friends, and faithful blog followers)!
Thanks for reading my post. I hope you’re encouraged!
Encourages women to move past the limits of their relationships with their fathers to find identity, acceptance, and unconditional love in the ultimate DADDY-daughter relationship with God.