The cries of a wounded child . . .
I pulled her close to me as she reached out her hand towards her mother. "Why does she have to leave?", she kept asking. "I just want her to stay and spend time with me". These are the words of a deeply hurting eight year old, who hasn't seen her biological mom in over eight months. Trying to console a child who doesn't understand why her mom has abandon her has got to be the most excruciating experience I've endured.
The scene mentioned above is not only Sierra's story, but my story as well. I too have dealt with the loss and grief which results from having an absent parent. Because I have so much invested in her life, watching her suffer emotionally is almost unbearable. Her mother has no idea how much damage she is doing her extremely sensitive, impressionable heart.
When I try to make sense of this irrational situation, I only grow more bitter towards my own birth mother. At the age of two, my sibligs and I were removed from her care due to documented abuse. She was an addict who cared more about getting her next fix than she did about her own children. Unfortunately, she has yet to take responsibility for her choices, and if you were to ask her about the scenario surrounding our departure it would look more like this . . .
"You were stolen from me. I did nothing wrong. So I wasn't the model parent? Who is? I did the best I could. Sorry it wasn't good enough."
Now to the the "bleeding heart" out there who "feels her pain", I commend you. Four bratty kids, an abusive husband, and the drug monster knocking at her door, sure couldn't have been an easy load to carry. I'm not denying she had it rough, but I am a firm believer in choices, and just like Sierra's mom, she was given a hand to play. The cards were dealt, and she folded.
God entrusted my mom with a gift when He decided to create me. The Bible tells me he actually hand picked my mother's womb. Unfortunately, she chose to abandon and abuse the gift, rather than embrace the plan God had. I can't fully grasp this truth. I understand He had a bigger purpose, and when I have the opportunity to share my experience, strength, and hope with a bruised and broken eight year old, I can see value in the pain I was forced to endure. However, I do not think it is fair. Then again, life's not fair.
Sierra will struggle with believing she is lovable and worthy for the rest of her life. Her emotional intelligence is staggering, and I believe she is light years ahead of me in the recovery process. This is remarkable considering she is only eight, but maybe we were meant to learn God's truth together. When I get to opportunity to hold her when she's sobbing uncontrollably, I find healingI go back to the place when I am eight years old, and I "just want her to stay a little longer".
The connection between a child and it's biological mother will always be a mystery to me. There is something within each of us which longs to be fully and unconditionally loved by the person who brings us into this world. For reasons I have yet to understand, this was not the road God had for me. I continue to struggle with the effects of my mothers choices, and it kills me to know another little girl will have to endure the pain and confusion I face on a daily basis. Sierra has a journey to take, and it won't look exactly like mine, but I hope somewhere along the path, I can hold her and let her know there is a God whose love surpasses anything we can imagine!
P.S. For those of you who care, both Sierra and myself were "rescued" from our hell by amazing gaurdian angels. I have a Nora, and she has a Nana.