"What sorrows await the world, because it tempts people to sin. Temptations are inevitable, but what sorrow awaits the person who does the tempting." Matthew 18:7
"I love you. I really do."
My mom left this message Saturday evening.
Her words have fallen on my heart like a stone.
Maybe she does. God knows.
However, recent events and revelations makes me very cautious.
She's never said this before, unprompted. It's always been in response to my, "I love you, mom."
It feels like bait.
Her message put me back in the boat named Confusion. This morning, my hand is reaching for the hand of Jesus to help me get out again.
You see? I want to believe her. But what would it mean if I did? What actions are required on my part, if any?
Is she asking me to come back to the way things have always been? Is she asking me to be small again?
Am I being asked to forget everything and carry on as though nothing happened?
I can't do that. Not when the truth of who she is and what she is capable of has been revealed by God.
Truth has set me free and no matter how prettily the boat has been decorated, I don't belong there.
Nevertheless, the boat's crew are singing a sailor's song of obligation and duty and responsibility.
Who am I kidding? It's a full on orchestra!
The bass drum is beating a rhythm of self doubt.
The strings are plucking a lecture for the audacity of my silence.
The brass blares, "Just who do you think you are, anyways?!"
The woodwinds whistle nasty names.
I am tired of hearing the music written by my mom.
However, God is good and He gave me a heart of kindness.
A smidgen of grace drowns the song out because I can't help but wonder, what song plays in her head?
It doesn't mean I have to call her back.
She is in God's hands now.
No comments:
Post a Comment