A broken heart

May I be completely candid with you? Well, I will anyways, because it's my nature.

I've had my heart broken in the last 14 months or so. No, not by my husband. But by my 2 oldest children. It's a long story, and if you'd like to hear it, just ask and I'll share. But for today's purposes, we'll skip all that and get to the point.

I was unaware when I became a parent, that the potential for my heart to be broken, literally, was possible. I discovered for the 2nd time several weeks ago that not only is it possible, it's real. I think to some degree or another, every mom assumes that their children will love them forever, never do anything to cause them heartache, and smother them with kisses and hugs without fail. However, with each year that passes, I'm discovering that the pain is a little worse with each slight. It starts with dropping them off at church or a friends, and they don't even wait to say goodbye. Then it's when you make her mad and she says "Bad mommy! I mad at you!" And then they hit pre-teens, and Lord help us! At my house, I get the sigh, the eyes to heaven (to my 11 year old, that is NOT the same thing as rolling her eyes), and the talking back. Sometimes I look at one of them and think " Who ARE you??"

Anyway, this is the heartache I'm talking about.  The one where you've poured your very heart and soul into 1 or 2 or more children, who in this case, are not yours and they throw it back in your face. 

This is a story I'd like to keep to myself. Because in some ways, at least for me, it feels like I failed at something. That I did something wrong. But here is what I KNOW. I know that God blessed me with 2 gifts that I didn't have to birth (he, he). I know that he put me in this place, at this time  for a purpose. One that I can't see any more than any other parent can. I know that I believe in a god that is bigger and stronger than any thing, and any person that seeks to tear my family apart. And I know that I didn't fail at anything. And here's why. It's not about me! To some degree, it's not even about the kids. It's about the truth I choose to speak into their lives, and what they do with it. They have the choice, and some lessons.... shew! Some lessons have to be learned the hard way.

I had a conversation this morning with my daughter, and was left with a heart much lifted. The pain is there, the mistrust is there. But the lesson learned is SO much more! Praise God for that. Praise God for a heart that has learned to listen through the pain to be able to speak life and forgiveness into my children in a most visible way. In a way that they can see the truth and not just hear it. As I write this, tears come up in my eyes at the blessing I know it is. And I pray hard that this lesson stick in their hearts, so that they know the truth, and that this truth will set them free in a way that it couldn't just yet, if they hadn't made the choices that they did. I pray that they will be able to see the truth and hold tight to it, even when it hurts. Even when a relationship is lost or damaged. I pray that this will be a lesson in how to repair the relationships that mean the most the way God intended for us.

So what will you learn when it hurts the most? And I'm thinking that maybe it will hurt a little less, when we focus on what God wants to show us in the middle. God bless your week!