It’s another one of those days where the losses pile up so high in front of my face that I can’t see anything else. I don’t want to be here. I am tired. So tired.
written published anything in awhile because well, I’ve heard that one should not speak if one does not have something nice to say.
And there is some truth in that. Because I write to encourage, and I write to free my heart, and I write to bring hope to hearts battling, like mine, to find any.
But sometimes the truth – no matter how ugly – is the most healing thing we have to offer.
Because sometimes when I tell it like it is, instead of bottling it all inside, others come. They come out of hiding. They come because they see that there is at least one who is as broken.
And that they are not alone.
I don’t want to risk being just more irrelevant noise in the lives of those who have known little else than pain and destruction, because there is enough of that kind of noise in this world.
And I don’t want to risk distancing myself from those who need hope the most by being silent in these dark places – when there is nothing positive or encouraging to say. And let me tell you this truth – lately there has just not been much of that.
But today is a time to speak, because I have remained here, in this place, silent and stuck for long enough; my heart wrecked, gridlocked with pain and loss – with no clearing of this traffic jam in sight.
There are no emergency vehicles racing to the scene of this wreck. It’s just a hopeless pile-up with no expected relief for those travelers looking for smooth-sailing easy passage.
If you want to take the detour around and avoid sitting in this traffic jam, then may I kindly suggest you stop reading now?
Don’t worry. This mess will eventually untangle and it will be safe to pass through here again without having to bear witness to this ugly wreckage of my heart.
So move along now.
If you stay this course you might be in for a wait. No telling when those emergency vehicles will arrive….
For those still reading…..
Can I share the honest truth of where my heart is at today?
I am lost.
And I am tired.
Tired of this fight and so, so tired of the expectations and judgments of others, of those who lack grace even more than they lack understanding.
There are multiple streams of rejection, but I am stuck on one today:
I don’t have a name.
My “real” first name? She was destroyed before I knew my ABC’s. And my given last name? I lay no claim to whatsoever. Who would claim that legacy? “Unwanted daughter of Mr. Exploitation.”
So when I drifted into marriage, by the grace of God, I was given a new name. Imagine my delight – that I would be called by a new last name, adopted into a family, finally bear the mark of being called “Daughter.”
But it was not meant to be.
I am loved beyond measure by my husband.
But I am not one of them.
They never welcomed me as a daughter or sister, never claimed even our children with their hearts. They have always only ever wanted him. And they have despised my claim as belonging to him.
This has gone on for years, my fatherless heart bearing the ongoing rejection of those who never could adopt me into their fold.
And this week, I have said goodbye and proclaimed my love and affection to the father who could have been but never was. Over the phone. Because I was not wanted there.
And with all my heart all I really want to do is wrap the one who has loved me deeply and sacrificially in my arms as he grieves the loss of that which I have never known – an earthly father.
But my own orphaned heart is shredded, raging. Again. Because I am not wanted there. My presence at the funeral is neither requested OR wanted.
And I cannot comfort a loss in someone else that still breaks me in the deepest places – no matter how much I want to. Because I cannot offer that which I have never received – balm for my own fatherlessness.
And this pain is searing deep now: I have no earthly name.
I do not belong to either family.
And in case there are any of you well meaning Christian people who think that pain like this is wrapped up neatly with “encouraging” reminders that I bear God’s name, that I am HIS daughter, that I have been adopted by Him…if there are any of you still reading then may I just politely request you stop talking?
Because I know all of that.
But today* the pain of not belonging, of the rejection of my earthly position of daughter twice over and the realization that I truly bear no earthly name…..well, my heart is in pieces.
And even the love of God and the truths I “should” cling to are not magically erasing and repairing the wreckage.
They will. Eventually. And in the depth of my heart, I know He claims me, and so does my husband.
But sometimes this lifetime of rejection, of not belonging anywhere, ever – it overwhelms me.
And it is ok – necessary, even, for me to admit this pain, to own it and acknowledge it and allow myself to feel it. Because if I don’t, then I wonder…..
Will my heart ever truly accept my adoption into God’s arms if I never truly own the pain of being orphaned twice over?
I don’t think so. And I don’t think God says so either.
To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill, And a time to heal; A time to break down, And a time to build up; A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing; A time to gain, And a time to lose; A time to keep, And a time to throw away; A time to tear, And a time to sew; A time to keep silence, And a time to speak; A time to love, And a time to hate; A time of war, And a time of peace. (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 NKJV)