Dark Legacy

   "The sacrifice you desire is a broken spirit. You will not reject a broken and repentant heart, O God." Psalm 51:17

  On the long drive home from my family Christmas gathering, I found myself faced with some stark and hard truths. I cried most of the way home, weeping for what could have been, what should have been. 

  However, when you've been groomed to utter compliancy, you end up becoming a flying monkey; an enabler who is incapable of standing up against the destroyer.  I don't say this to justify what happened, it's merely an acknowledgement of the truth.

  So I failed to protect my children from their father.

  And I abandoned them as adults. I abandoned them when my world collapsed. They were all grown up when the relationship with their father came crashing down. For this I am thankful, that I was able to travel the depths of madness knowing they were well able to care for themselves.

  But were they really? I don't know. We never talked about it.

  I wept some more because my children suffered because of my own upbringing. The one that taught me right from the get go that it was okay for people in power to do or say what they wanted. They taught me that abasement and submission were what I had to pay for kindness. But it wasn't real kindness, submission opened the door to a beast who tears your heart out and steals the innocence of childhood. Then it comes back for second, and third and dozens of helpings of all that is good in you.

  And you submit even more, hoping, this time it would be different.

  And later, the beast morphed into a spouse who made sure the training continued.

  Oh, my Lord, I didn't know any better...because nobody told me it didn't have to be that way.

  So I failed to protect my children from their father and inflicted my own emotional and mental damage onto their vulnerable and impressionable innocence. 

  Oh, God, it's all so ugly...

  You see, two of my children are step-children. I stayed with their father to keep them safe from the predators who had already made inroads into their young lives. I thought, with me, they'll be safe. But when you live with a beast called narcissism, nowhere is safe.

  Leaving it in the dust is the only option. But I couldn't take all the children even if I'd had the ability to leave. Which I didn't. 

  They weren't mine. I wasn't allowed to adopt them as my own for that very reason. There was no way he would have given me that kind of power. The beast doesn't share his possessions.

  Dear, sweet, Jesus, You have forgiven me of so much, can You forgive me for this?

  Please, my Lord, in Your mercy, please, take this millstone from my neck. It's too heavy for me to bear.