Letter To My Son

Of my five children, my older son is the one most like me. He's blonde with hazel eyes, olive skin, and a square jaw. He is sensitive, has a big heart to help others, is musically inclined, and a natural comedian. When he was small I called him my little meatball. He's the only baby I've ever known with abs. (That is definitely not like me!) He was just strong and on. the. go. every minute of the day except to take snuggle breaks cuddling with me and his "fa-baba" (favorite blanket). 

He is my baby. My heart. My firstborn son.

Last year during the burning down, I did the worst and hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life.

I looked around at our utterly broken, scary, intolerable, volatile circumstances... and told my precious 16-year-old son that I loved him with all of my heart, forever and ever, but that because of his behavior that put others in danger, he had to move out (with my husband) until it was safe for all of us to live together again.

I'm not going to tell you all the reasons why except to say that several shocking events made it clear it was what had to be done for safety and sanity's sake.

I've had to make a few really horrible decisions in my life -- horrible in that there was no other choice but to be the adult and make the terribly hard, heartbreaking call. It's just part of life. In March, my beloved dog of 11 years suddenly collapsed and I rushed him to the vet knowing he was dying, and painfully. We drove together, just us, him sighing and looking to me for comfort and me stroking his head and telling him what a very good boy, the king of all dogs really, he was and how grateful I would always be to God for his friendship. I was the one who decided it was time rather than to try heroic measures to add a few days, weeks, or months to his life. I chose that for him because he was a noble friend and I owed him so very much. Being there for him as he slipped into Heaven was such a sad, but holy moment. It was an honor. 

That's the normal kind of horrible decision. It's part of the package. We know there's going to be some measure of sadness in every year that we're on the planet. We expect it because it's just life.

Not this.

Not turning away your flesh and blood because he is a danger to himself and others.

I don't know how to recover from it. When I think about my son, and how since that day he has refused any gestures of love from me, told me the more I reach out to him saying I love him, miss him, and am praying for him, the more he hates me, my throat closes up. 

"Blessed are those who mourn, 

for they will be comforted."

Matthew 5.4

What is he going through? What has all of this done to him? What hurts? What fears? What anxieties? Oh, dear God, how wish I could be there to comfort him and love him through this! What lies does he believe about his value and worth? 

"But, even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 

Fear not, therefore; 

ye are of more value than many sparrows."

Luke 12.7

And, when will the Lord bring us together again? 

I want to rewind life back to when he was that precious tow-headed baby and enjoy every single moment all over again. I want to rewind back to when he first got angry. Whatever that initial moment was that derailed my boy and set him on this course that has been so destructive and painful. I blame myself and weep for all the things I did over the years that made it worse for him, made it harder for him, alienated him, or caused him pain or confusion and in the middle of the night that list of my sins plays in my head on repeat. I want to make it all un-happen so much my heart cannot bear it. 

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, 

neither angels nor demons, 

neither the present nor the future, 

nor any powers, neither height nor depth, 

nor anything else in all creation, 

will be able to separate us from the love of God 

that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Romans 8.38-39

I worry about my son day and night and have to continually give those fears over to God and entrust him to my Father in Heaven knowing He loves my son galaxies and millenia more than I ever could. And I remember that God has forgiven me for my wrongdoing, my stupidity, selfishness, perfectionism, over-strictness, inflexibility, and on and on. 

The moment my two men moved out, the whole house breathed relief. From the chaos, from the drama, from the abuse. But, then we entered into a new pain -- the grief of loss and abandonment when neither man chose to make things right but went the other direction instead.

Relief and grief.

It's the relief of having a leg riddled with cancer cut off. You'll live and be grateful for it, but without a vital part of yourself intact and will forever be affected.

Last year my baby boy laid in a hospital bed after having done something reckless. That was the moment I realized the face he showed me wasn't real. That the golden thread of honest relationship between us had broken. That was when I realized I was impotent to help, powerless to protect. And blamed.

I want to say to him Lysa TerKeurst's words (paraphrased), "Son, God's instructions, God's boundaries, the ones I've tried to live by and instill in you, aren't cruel barriers to keep you from freedom. They are protective restrictions meant to define where safe freedom can be found." But for now, I don't have that access.

For now.

Last summer, the Lord gave me these verses.

"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;

your walls are ever before me. Your sons hasten back, and those who laid you waste depart from you. Lift up your eyes and look around; all your sons gather and come to you. As surely as I live, declares the Lord, you will wear them all as ornaments; you will put them on like a bride."

Isaiah 49.16-18

So, I know deep down inside that my son, who is so like me both in appearance and in spirit, will be back. Someday. And I can kiss him and tell him how very much I love him and how sorry I am for every wrong. That moment will be a holy honor.

Dear R,

Even though you don't want relationship with me right now, I want you to know that I love you, son, more than you can imagine. I want you to hear that from me even if you don't believe it right now.

And, I am truly confident that the Lord will restore our relationship someday because God is God and He is in the restoration business. I don't ever want you to think that I don't want that or that there isn't a way back. There is. My door is always open to you. I am here for you if you ever need me. I'm not trying to convince you of anything, nor expecting anything at all from you.

I just want you to know that I love you.

No matter what.

Forever.

Mama