Somewhere along the way, my daughter became my friend.
It wasn’t always that way.
Goodness knows, it wasn’t. Our journey has been a crazy, beautiful, dramatic, heart-wrenching ride. My
firstborn child, Hannah Beth became my entire life when she was born to me in a small Army hospital in Germany
some 22 years ago.
I often tell the story of when we took her to her three-month,
well-baby checkup and the doctor was concerned that she wasn’t lifting her head
well when he lay her on her tummy.
Looking concerned, he asked me, “Do you put her down on her tummy and
let her play a lot?” Dumbfounded, I
said, “You mean you’re supposed to put them down???” I was a new mama, alone in a foreign country,
with no one but her daddy to tell me how to parent, and he was as clueless as
me. I just held her everywhere I went and for
every household chore I did. Needless to
say, I forced myself to put her down more after that and she turned out just
fine.
She was five years old when her daddy and I divorced. She took it very hard. One day, not long after we had divorced,
Hannah came into the kitchen where I was cooking, dragging her bulging suitcase
behind her. When I asked her where she
was going, she broke down sobbing, saying, “I’m going to live with Daddy. I
miss him so much.” I knelt down and held her and we cried together. All these years
later, it absolutely breaks my heart to think about
that moment.
Not too long ago, when packing up some of her things to take to her new house, I found an old diary of hers. She was fifteen years old, some ten years after the divorce, when she had made this entry: “Of all the things I wish for, I wish for Mama and Daddy to be married again.”
Not too long ago, when packing up some of her things to take to her new house, I found an old diary of hers. She was fifteen years old, some ten years after the divorce, when she had made this entry: “Of all the things I wish for, I wish for Mama and Daddy to be married again.”
What an awful, painful toll
divorce takes on our children, no matter what their age.
That divorce affected many things, not the least of which were her teenage
years here with me and her stepdad.
Always having a way out, another parent to run to, made disciplining her
a tough assignment for us. It didn’t
stop us from trying, and it didn’t stop her from resisting. Affection from her was non-existent. Never a cuddle-bug to begin with, she pulled
away even more. We use to tease her: 'If
you wanted a hug from Hannah, she had to pencil you into her planner.'
I spent countless nights crying myself to sleep
over Hannah and the ways I felt like I had failed her. I thought if my own flesh and blood could
spew such hatred from her lips at me, that surely I had failed. My faith was all that kept me going. I knew God had her in His grip and that she,
too, was leaning on Him even when she wasn’t leaning on me. And even through the tough stuff, she would often confide in me about the serious issues in her life, and that gave
me some hope that one day things would be okay.
After graduating from high school, she made a few really dumb
decisions (don’t we all at age 18?) and took some wrong turns. At that point, though, I had stopped
preaching at her about every little thing and I had decided that enough rope to hang her
herself may be what she needed in order to learn the hard lessons. I refused to be the devil’s advocate and
berate her for her choices, as my own mother had done to me, so I just listened
a lot and prayed even harder. I never stopped
loving her and I know she knew that.
When she finally hit rock bottom and realized she needed to change, she called for help and Michael and I immediately
responded. We met her where she was and wrapped our love around her.
That was a turning point in our relationship.
Gradually she began to speak to me with a different level of respect, with a different
tone in her voice, and with a contrite heart. A
couple of years later, she met a wonderful man and they started a beautiful
family together. As she continued to mature, she started commenting
on her younger brother’s disrespect for me. She started telling him to stop
resisting the boundaries at our house and to just accept them as what was
best. I had heard rumors that one day your
children may admit that you were right about your parenting, and it happened!
It really happened!!
And, oh my goodness, you should see how much she loves that
little baby boy of hers! No scheduling
of affection needed for him. She
liberally showers him with hugs and kisses and takes joy in everything he does! It is so awesome to watch. She is making sure that he knows who his Savior
is and I know she will raise him in the church and make sure he has a personal relationship
with Jesus Christ. As someone who never
thought I would even live long enough to see my grandchildren, I really cannot
adequately express how happy that makes me.
I love being friends with Hannah. She is truly one of the
best listeners I know. She never acts
like she is thinking of her response before I finish talking. She is listening.
And that makes a beautiful friend and that makes a friend beautiful.
In my own life, I know God the Father anguished over my rebellion, too. As I started a downward cycle of sin, I ran as far away from him as I could, thinking I knew
what was best. Leaving the church,
resisting His word, drowning out His voice and pushing away His love—I just
wanted to make my own choices and desires and forget about others. I was numb and lost.
Running straight
through His boundaries for me, I hit
rock bottom. But like the good Father He is, He met me right in
the middle of my ugly mess and brought me out of that deep, miry clay and wrapped His love around me. It
took me a little while to fully understand the depth of mercy He bestowed on me, or to recognize all that He truly saved me
from, but I learned to know (that I know that I know that I know) His ways were
lovely and His truth set me free.
Oh, and by the way, He and I became pretty good friends
along the way, too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Did ever saint find this Friend
forsake him?
No, not one! no, not one!
Or sinner find that He would not take him?
No, not one! no, not one!” [There’s Not a Friend Like the Lowly Jesus]
No, not one! no, not one!
Or sinner find that He would not take him?
No, not one! no, not one!” [There’s Not a Friend Like the Lowly Jesus]
Oh, April, this is your bestest yet! I love the photo of you holding HB and looking in the mirror-she always loved looking at herself in that mirror! So cute :D.
ReplyDeleteI don't think there is a caring parent alive who regrets a thousand things, or fears what they will one day regret, not having a manual! I love that y'all are friends, that you respect and care about each other - and I LOVE that you 2 have been there for her, every time she needed you. It's nice to make up to our kids what we didn't necessarily experience as children ourselves...And I'm glad you put her down, eventually! LOL, that's great!
All my Love,
Cisi