Words That Heal

If you know my testimony, you know growing up was difficult. I've been through counseling went to many Adult Children of Alcoholics meetings and had many friends who listened to me. I also wrote many of my frustrations out in diaries.

Thank goodness God is in the business of changing us. There's no way I would want to be that girl that had to deal with all the grief, sadness, rejection and abuse that took years to get past.

But this one thing I know...a phrase, a look, a touch and being real changes things.

Needless to say, my relationship with my parents was always slightly strained. God walked me through learning how to forgive them...many times I handed my parents my heart...many times I walked away empty-handed, many times I walked away in tears. Most times I walked away with my head up, knowing that I would never give up on either one of them.

I never stopped giving my heart to them. Not out of wanting it to hurt again, but out of the pure love that God poured into me as He continued to show me what I needed to change about me...what I could do different...how I could respond to the sometimes careless, thoughtless words and actions. God continued to show me that what I do with His love is even worse than what my parents did to me.

Through the years, my heart became so soft toward my parents, that it was easy to give it to them. Mostly, I could look beyond their words and see the pain that caused them to feel, react, or act the way they did.

In Dad's later years, he would come to the church I worked at in Shreveport and just sit there. He wanted me to just go about all my work. His words still echo softly in my ears, "Baby, I just want to be near you." My dad always called me his baby. I always thought my dad was immortal...I never thought he'd get sick...never thought I'd live on without him.

My dad's last words to me were "Baby, I'm so proud of what you're about to do." I didn't get it then. I smiled at him and told him I'd see him after he got out of the operating room. He never lived past the time they brought him out. And I think of those powerful affirming words my dad gave me. Words that heal.

In my mom's later years, I had grown up a little, realizing that she was not strong enough to be immortal. I knew one day she would leave this world. I would listen to her words of condemnation about my brothers my sister, her one friend, the neighbors. She was so very unhappy. However, within me there was a knowledge of her deep core of woundedness. I learned to listen between the bitterness and hear a little girl just wanting to be loved, wanting to be accepted and wanting to make a difference in someone's life.

The last time my mom clearly spoke to me, I was sitting on her bed. Just her and me. She spoke in an unknown language---every once in a while I could glean a word. Realizing she was speaking the Lord's prayer, I started saying it with her and she said "YES! YES!" After we were done, I told her that she could go be with Jesus anytime she wanted. In a clear, concise voice she looked at me and said, "I don't want to go."

My mom always me told that she hated that I didn't have any family with me in North Carolina. She didn't like the fact that no one would 'protect' me if someone broke into my house. She didn't want me to not have a husband to lean on when times got rough.

I asked "Why, mom, Why don't you want to go be with Jesus? There will be peace and no pain. You'll be happy and God will be there."

At that moment, she looked square in my eyes and said, "I don't want to leave you alone."

True words spoken from a mother's heart. Words that heal.

God welcomed my mother on October 7, 2008. No more pain, no more sorrow, praise God she has broken free.