And the spiral begins again.
Poof he’s gone.
Will it ever stop? Highly unlikely, I breathe in, I breathe out, I hold Eli, exhale some more, pray, beg, shake my fist at the sky (it’s not God’s fault) I just wonder why.
Why must I endure the never-ending cycle of my pride and pain; this pain goes even deeper now; Eli is being affected by it.
First, I am afflicted and left with battle wounds, and now Eli.
I try to wrap my mind around why she always takes him when she gets upset; that I’ll never know. I keep watching the clock. three years and counting down. They’ll be of age, but then what? They’ve been raised to believe I’m the Jesus pushing enemy, but that’s not so.
My heart, just a bleeding vessel; however, if they knew the pain that laid within it for them would it make a difference? I suffocate. I love them so much. Why am I not fighting, because it’s too late to fight physically, so I war on my knees praying and pleading to Jesus for salvation, reunions, and mercy to be extended to all parties involved. One thing I have learned over the years is, when it comes to custodial battles everyone only see’s their side of the story, rarely is the other parties pain felt by the opposing side. I feel it. I see the why back then, but now, this just don’t make sense. God, make it stop, My Lord please bring them back. I don’t even know if I can handle them, but at least make a way for me to see them. A little more breathing, I’m still alive and I feel the pain.
Incase I’ve lost you while venting, let me explain. My pride and pain are my oldest two children, whom I lost all custodial rights to back when I was on drugs. It is not physically possible for me to get any rights back to these children; I’ve looked into it. For the past 5 years or so I have been at the Mercy of Jesus and their paternal grandmother. God has been so good to me; he always makes a way when there isn’t a way. But, when it comes to her, I feel like a victim, in all actuality the real victim are the kids. Looking at the inside of the picture from the outside, I see shattered lives, innocence, and fragile memories. I see children who were given the best chance at life given the circumstances, but I also see two individuals who loved two kids so much, who were willing to do whatever it took to make sure they were taken care of. Only no one see’s my part. I loved them so much when they were younger and when I was on drugs, that I left them alone with her. I trusted her, I still do. I just don’t understand her. I was never supposed to lose them. I loved her and still do. I’m broken. Why hurt me? Why not come together as a village and raise them? It’s too late for that. Syrus will be 16 soon. Jaylah is 14 and living in Tennessee. They don’t see me as mom, and I get it. They see me as a stranger, I see them as children I bared, and gave life to. I see them as my heart walking away, teenage strangers, and victims. I see them as precious jewels, and bright diamonds. I see them as future leaders, not convicts. I see them as future children of God, and as businessmen/women. I see them as my babies, the ones I love more than myself, but I also see them as numbness.
Every time this scab heals, it is ripped back off and I bleed out more. Only its different, Eli is now being bothered by this. I said it again. My autistic son is being affected by the coming and going of his brother. It’s not preventable. I can shut my door and stay numb, but hearing him ask and wonder why, my heart breaks. I wish I could give them all the world; I wish I could go back and raise my pride and pain the way I am raising Eli. I feel selfish, life isn’t fair. Why didn’t anyone one help me? How did I not know to help myself back then? I destroyed them, myself and now my past choices are destroying Eli.
God help me it hurts. I am yours.
On my way to my adopted moms house today, I began to think about the pain I am in, how I feel so misunderstood, and how I just feel absent. I’m present in body, but mentally, I’m space cadeting. Who needs drugs when you can suit up and bounce off mentally, while holding on by the hem of his garment.
Matthew 9:21 For she said within herself, If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole
Jesus, I know you are there. No, I don’t want to do anything rash. I do not have ill thoughts of harm about myself or others. I just hurt.
Do you know what else hit me?
Jesus knows and he physically feels. (I know what you are thinking, blah blah blah, Jesus freak, go on with yourself). But no, seriously hear me out.
Jesus knows. He understands my pain. He felt my pain, and he still feels my pain.
Think about it. He’s real. He was real, and he is still very much alive and real. scripture tells us that, —For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.–Hebrews 4:15-16
But even more so, it came to me that Jesus understands how I feel because he felt the same pain himself. He felt the pain of rejection from his children.
John 1:11 He came unto his own, and his own received him not
He knows what it’s like to have those who he loves reject/not to want him. He knows what it’s like to love someone and not feel loved back, he knows because he experienced it firsthand. He was a peacemaker. For the first time ever today, I felt that Jesus felt me when it comes to all this madness, and I find comfort in it. I find comfort in knowing he overcame the rejection/pain and so will I. I find comfort in knowing that I share that personal experience of love and rejection like Jesus did, and I find comfort in knowing that I may someday lose everyone, but at the end of the day I’ll never lose Jesus. He tells me he’ll go all the way with me, even until the end.
Matthew 28:20 Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world
His presence is something I can’t explain, but it’s also something I am not willing to sacrifice for anyone.
My life is full of ups, downs, dances, screams, cries, joy, thunders, roars, and stillness.
My life is full of Jesus. In the madness he carries me, in the joy I dance with him, in the sorrow I cry to him, in the manic, I worship him.
Joyful, joyful oh how I adore him, oh how I adore knowing I am understood by him.
Whatever you are facing, I’m rooting for you too.
Whatever you are struggling with, my Jesus is with you.
Whatever you are in need of, feel for him, he’s there, you just got to open up to him.
He’s faithful and he won’t allow us to go through more than we are able to.
1 Corinthians 10:13 There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it
Sometimes it seems like things never end because we are facing it alone and in ourselves. Sometimes and often we just need to escape to that mental head space where only Jesus is and be held by him.
Though the storms are many, my anchor he holds me close and steady. Just another mountain to climb, just another valley to go through. In this valley, I’ll find my lily and keep on keeping on.
Strengthen me Lord, for I am yours.
I love you all!
Jesus loves you most!
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