Choosing Trust (even when your adult children push you away)

I haven’t shared much about this part of my life on my blog. Some of you may be surprised to learn about it. I’ve decided to trust God and share. My desire and prayer are that it will bring hope to others going through similar situations. Really, that is all the reason I write. If just one person would come to trust and faith in Jesus through this humble blog it is worth it all. The following is just one of many short stories I have written about this subject. If it is something that resonates, touches your heart, leads you to share or you want to hear more, let me know. Just know that the only order they will be shared in is the order of the Holy Spirit prompting.

Hard Not To

It was so hard not to worry and fret over where my daughter was, or what she may have been doing.  Though I tried, I ended up making myself sick over it.  Driving down the street I would slow down and look at every skinny female with long hair to make sure it wasn’t my girl.  I called her numerous times.  When she would finally answer I would sigh with relief that she was still alive.  At the same time, I would get filled with anxiety over her wanting me to pick her up or give her money.   Learning to tell her no was incredibly difficult.   

One time she went for a walk to get cigarettes.  We didn’t see her again for 3 days.  She finally came in, rude and disrespectful, looking like she hadn’t slept in days.   She ate loudly.  Then slept for the next 3 or 4 days.  It was a horrible cycle.  Made me so mad at her.  I didn’t yell, scream, or even have harsh words with her.  I kept my anger to myself and instead tried to reason with her.   Tried to talk her into going to rehab.  She said she didn’t need it. 

Asking God Why?

Eventually, she just stopped coming home.  She was living on the streets.  Going from one house to another.  I kept praying God would put people in her path to help her.  And though they weren’t the people I would have chosen, I found out later on that He did.  And He still does. I kept asking Him “why is she doing this?”  Why is she bouncing around town acting homeless?  She has a bedroom with a warm bed right here.

I also asked why am I having to be the responsible one and take her kids to the doctor and to school?  God kept letting me know that we all have choices.  She was choosing to live the way she was.   I was choosing to take care of my Grandkids.  It just didn’t seem right.  To me, her choices were wrong, and I was paying for it.   What other way could I go?  Let the kids wander from house to house with her?   I could just see them in my mind’s eye – dirty and unkempt, heading towards a hard direction in life.  I just couldn’t do it.  My mama’s heart couldn’t let them go.  She’s an adult.  She can choose to live how she wants. 

Longing for yesterday

I know she had been through some rough waters.  I longed for the early days with her.  Watching her be a really good and responsible mom to her firstborn.  He was a preemie weighing 2.6 lbs. at birth.   She was only 16 and did such an amazing job with him. The nurses in the NICU had her show other preemie moms how to hold their babies and care for them.   Once at home she continued to do a great job.  Yes, I was here to help but it was almost not necessary. Except when I insisted on her hanging out with friends and trying to have some normal teenage life. She attended a high school where she could bring him with her.  At church, she became a co-leader in the nursery.  She was a strong teenage mom with goals and dreams.  

The week after her 18^th birthday, she moved out.  Her baby’s daddy talked her into it.  I never cried so hard, for so long.  We felt so blind-sided.  Turned out she had been talking to him secretly whenever she could.  He slipped her a phone so we wouldn’t know that he was calling her.  I seriously had hoped that the relationship was over.  I had a gut feeling that it wasn’t good.  Turned out I was right.  Sadly. 

God helps me to reconcile

Two more beautiful little ones came along.   And so did the occasional bruise.  I started asking about them.   As a result of my asking, I rarely got to see any of them.  When they came over for a holiday they didn’t stay long.  And most of the time he would be in the bathroom.  He would come out holding his stomach telling her they needed to go.  Little whispers would take place and pretty soon they were headed out the door with a crying son that didn’t want to leave. 

I had an idea of what led to the drug abuse,  but I can’t say for sure.  Even if I did, that is not my story to tell.  What is mine to tell, however, is how God has been a constant in my life throughout. He has helped me to reconcile that I can’t do anything about her choices.  That it has nothing to do with what I did or didn’t do as her mom.  It was up to me to give my worries to Him.  Really pray for her.  To love her where she is at.  Get me out of God’s way and let Him work in her life.

Choosing Trust

I choose to trust Him.  Even if I have to remind myself daily.  Many times, I find myself picking up that particular box of worries.  It may be after a time of talking to her, or when I haven’t talked to her for a while.  It’s just random.  On the spur of the moment, I’m holding that box, wondering, and worrying about where she is.  What she is doing.  If she’s okay.  I’ll look for her on my find a friend app then suddenly I’m kicking myself for looking.  Holy Spirit asks me what am I doing?  What do I think I can do?  Then just as quickly, I turn around, put the box back at His feet, and apologize for my lack of trust.  Remembering to cast all my cares, worries, and anxieties upon Him.  He is taking care of her, and me. 

 Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares for you.

1 Peter 5:7, NLT