I have noticed that the articles with the most viewers seem to be those which are painfully honest.
I can’t help but wonder why some articles that I write get so many views and some so few, but there does seem to be a trend towards those articles to which people can really relate. There is something about shared suffering, the experience of all humanity, that binds us together.
Something I wrote about a particularly painful time in my life,
seems to have struck a chord with many other mothers. Tears are a common language, I guess. There is nothing more exhilarating than holding your newborn baby, and likewise, there is nothing more devastating than thinking that child is making poor choices or is in danger.
Reflecting upon that time in life now, I realize that so very many people go through much, much worse situations with their children, but at the time, I felt so alone and misunderstood. Some things that I wish I had done differently then are to try to keep my emotions in check, to try to retain some of my own identity during the crisis and to trust God more.
While I felt that I could not help but cry, there were times that I did not even try to mask my tears, when I probably should have for the sake of my children. My daughter did not care that I was hurting at the time, and my tears only made her more angry and resentful. Even though my times of crying were frequent, I wish now that I had tried to keep them a bit more private.
I think that I would have survived the crisis better, too, had I realized that I still have my own identity, outside of being a mother. I felt that I was failing as a mother, my most cherished role, and as such, I felt like a failure in all other aspects of my life. In reality, I had done the best I could (at least the majority of the time), and my daughter’s decisions were her own at that point. Had I relaxed a bit in the truth of that, we would all have been better off.
And, of course, knowing that I had done my best to raise my children in the reverent fear of the Lord, I should have trusted Him more during the storm. He knew the desperation of my heart, and yet I did not trust his love for me or for my daughter the way that I should have. There are times in life, when, we just have to “…take up the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and, having done all, to stand” (Ephesians 6:13). I had my spiritual armor, but I did not trust it to do its job. Therefore, I lived in constant dread and fear.
So, in hindsight, I could have weathered the storm much better, but hopefully, I will remember these things during the next one. This Scripture is the cry of my heart:
Published in: Family