If you haven't heard it, you should go look it up and listen to it...
I know I need You
I need to love You
I love to see You, but it's been so long
I long to feel You
I feel this need for You
And I need to hear You, is that so wrong?
Now You pull me near You
When we're close, I fear You
Still I'm afraid to tell You, all that I've done
Are You done forgiving?
Oh can You look past my pretending?
Lord, I'm so tired of defending, what I've become
What have I become?
I hear You say,
"My love is over. It's underneath.
It's inside. It's in between.
The times you doubt Me, when you can't feel.
The times that you question, 'Is this for real? '
The times you're broken.
The times that you mend.
The times that you hate Me, and the times that you bend.
Well, My love is over, it's underneath.
It's inside, it's in between.
These times you're healing, and when your heart breaks.
The times that you feel like you're falling from grace.
The times you're hurting.
The times that you heal.
The times you go hungry, and are tempted to steal.
The times of confusion, in chaos and pain.
I'm there in your sorrow, under the weight of your shame.
I'm there through your heartache.
I'm there in the storm.
My love I will keep you, by My pow'r alone.
I don't care where you fall, where you have been.
I'll never forsake you, My love never ends.
It never ends."
I am finally starting to trust that nothing can separate me from God's love (Romans 8:38-39). IT doesn't matter what was done to me as a child, or what I had to do to survive. God loves me. I am His child. I am slowly starting to believe and accept that.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
A tale of two mothers
After spending 3 days away without DD it was so nice to get home and see her. I missed her something shocking and by her actions, I know she missed me too. After so much stress and worry in the early months about whether or not she would have a good attachment to me, it is such bliss to know that she does. To have that certainty. She kept coming up to me for cuddles, patting my arm and my head, saying "I love you too mummy" over and over. She was so jealous when I picked up our neighbour's little boy for a cuddle. She just wanted me all to herself. And I understand that. I had been away and while she had a great time with DH and her grandparents, she needed and wanted her mummy.
And it makes my heart so glad, not that she missed me because if I could spare her a day, an hour, a minute of sadness and pain I would, but it makes my heart sing to know that she has such a great, and healthy, attachment to me. DD will always get cuddles whenever she wants them, unconditional love and acceptance. It may mean that sometimes I am too lenient, and there may be some behavioural consequences of it, but I will do everything in my power to ensure she knows I am always there for her, always available and never feels rejected, slighted or unimportant.
But it also makes my heart sad because I don't have that with my mother.
I remember coming home from primary school, crying because I'd had a fight with my friends and mum asking me what was wrong. I remember cuddling up on her lap for a hug. She put her arms around me as I told her what it was about, and it was nice. But she would store up the words my friends had said that hurt me, and use them again at a later date when she was angry or upset; things like "well, you think you are just so smart coming first" or "your friends don't like you anymore". And the injustice of it was she didn't have to be angry or upset at me, I just happened to be there at the time.
I remember that I used to want to just sit at mum's feet, with my head on her knee and have her pat my head, stroke my hair, but I never remember her doing that.
I remember going to my mum when I was in 3rd class and telling her my brother was abusing me. She stopped doing her make up, asked me if it hurt, then told me to run along and play. There was no hug, no comfort, no caring support. Just indifference. That was when I decided never to tell her anything important or that mattered ever again.
I remember her saying I should have been the one to have cancer, not dad, because I had destroyed our family. Because I dared to have the courage to tell someone outside the family about the abuse.
I remember lying in bed listening to her cry in the weeks after dad had died. One night I went to her, put my hand on her shoulder, told her I loved her and I was there for her. She shrugged my hand off, snarled "I'm fine" and turned her back on me. That is when I closed my heart off to everyone and everything, so that I never felt that complete rejection and hurt again. I think it was when the last spark of caring, love, compassion, something.. I don't know what it was....for my mother died. I think it was when I just gave up.
I can't remember missing my mother, wanting to see her, looking forward to her coming home so I could talk to her. Perhaps I did in the early years. But I have no memory of it. All I have is memories of dread, disappointment, hurt... feelings of obligation, but that's about it.
I am lucky, I have moved on from that in some ways. I no longer protect my heart from everyone. I still protect it from her. I am surrounded by wonderful, warm, caring, mothering women who show me who I want to be and how a mother can be. I know I am lucky and I am so grateful. But it will still be a long journey.
So, perhaps you can understand why it is so fantastic for me to know DD has a secure attachment to me, and how much I love and enjoy that. It isn't until now, that I am a mother and I am also looking back at so much stuff, that I realise just how incredibly damaging not having that secure attachment is. It forms the pattern for all your relationships, friends, family, husbands, children... it shapes it all.
And it makes my heart so glad, not that she missed me because if I could spare her a day, an hour, a minute of sadness and pain I would, but it makes my heart sing to know that she has such a great, and healthy, attachment to me. DD will always get cuddles whenever she wants them, unconditional love and acceptance. It may mean that sometimes I am too lenient, and there may be some behavioural consequences of it, but I will do everything in my power to ensure she knows I am always there for her, always available and never feels rejected, slighted or unimportant.
But it also makes my heart sad because I don't have that with my mother.
I remember coming home from primary school, crying because I'd had a fight with my friends and mum asking me what was wrong. I remember cuddling up on her lap for a hug. She put her arms around me as I told her what it was about, and it was nice. But she would store up the words my friends had said that hurt me, and use them again at a later date when she was angry or upset; things like "well, you think you are just so smart coming first" or "your friends don't like you anymore". And the injustice of it was she didn't have to be angry or upset at me, I just happened to be there at the time.
I remember that I used to want to just sit at mum's feet, with my head on her knee and have her pat my head, stroke my hair, but I never remember her doing that.
I remember going to my mum when I was in 3rd class and telling her my brother was abusing me. She stopped doing her make up, asked me if it hurt, then told me to run along and play. There was no hug, no comfort, no caring support. Just indifference. That was when I decided never to tell her anything important or that mattered ever again.
I remember her saying I should have been the one to have cancer, not dad, because I had destroyed our family. Because I dared to have the courage to tell someone outside the family about the abuse.
I remember lying in bed listening to her cry in the weeks after dad had died. One night I went to her, put my hand on her shoulder, told her I loved her and I was there for her. She shrugged my hand off, snarled "I'm fine" and turned her back on me. That is when I closed my heart off to everyone and everything, so that I never felt that complete rejection and hurt again. I think it was when the last spark of caring, love, compassion, something.. I don't know what it was....for my mother died. I think it was when I just gave up.
I can't remember missing my mother, wanting to see her, looking forward to her coming home so I could talk to her. Perhaps I did in the early years. But I have no memory of it. All I have is memories of dread, disappointment, hurt... feelings of obligation, but that's about it.
I am lucky, I have moved on from that in some ways. I no longer protect my heart from everyone. I still protect it from her. I am surrounded by wonderful, warm, caring, mothering women who show me who I want to be and how a mother can be. I know I am lucky and I am so grateful. But it will still be a long journey.
So, perhaps you can understand why it is so fantastic for me to know DD has a secure attachment to me, and how much I love and enjoy that. It isn't until now, that I am a mother and I am also looking back at so much stuff, that I realise just how incredibly damaging not having that secure attachment is. It forms the pattern for all your relationships, friends, family, husbands, children... it shapes it all.
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