Dear Mom,

I think I hate you, or strongly dislike you with a passion. Isn’t that sad? I said I think I hate you. Meaning I’m not sure if I hate you or just strongly dislike you. Either way, I want you to know you have nearly ruined my heart. Notice I said nearly. You haven’t ruined it all the way. I wouldn’t let you do that. Actually, God wouldn’t let you do that. But I can promise you that you’re 92 percent of the reason there are deep, empty pits in my heart.

There’s only one thing I’ve ever wanted from you – and that was the love of a parent, or just a genuine embrace of love.

But the closest thing I’ve ever felt to an embrace from you was when I was wrapped around by the warmth of your womb as a ball of tissue before I entered this world. That’s the closest. Ever.

Now I’m beginning to understand that there’s a middle place between hatred and anger. And I’m at that point. You never gave me the love I needed. But that’s OK, because I found it somewhere greater – in the arms of Jesus. He has never left me like you have. But I’m not finished yet.

Let’s talk about abandonment.

Isolation. Loneliness. Emptiness. You helped build those inside of me, and I hope you realize how much that affected my self-esteem while growing up. I never felt any worth because of you. I always felt needy, like a beggar on the side of the road being passed up by rich folks. You helped dig that deep, dark hole inside of me. I’ve just recently climbed out of that pit thanks to genuine people who wholeheartedly care about me and thanks to the unfailing love of Christ.

Don’t forget about betrayal.

Unfortunately, I’ll never forget that. That was the worst thing you could do to me. When you chose a man over me – your own daughter and blood. That slammed the door shut between me and you. That broke any bond that was left between me and you. That nearly collapsed every pit in my heart that had been dug so deep over the years by you. I thought I was going to suffocate.

But then there was hope.

There was healing. There’s still healing being done. There was dawn rising over the horizon through it all. A light that outshined the darkness you poured into my heart. The light of Christ, the unfailing hope and grace through Him alone, helped me to rise up.

I was reminded who my true Parent was – God. I was reminded that though people may fail you tremendously through life, He NEVER will. I was reminded what and who true love is. Then I began to see more clearly. I became a newborn Phoenix rising from its ashes. Jesus knew what I was and am feeling. He’s been through the abandonment, betrayal, and all of it. More than anyone else, He understood me. And that’s what kept and keeps me going.

So Mom, I want you to know that I’m working on being better than you in all areas of my life.

I sincerely want to thank you actually. Thank you for showing me what not to be like. Thank you for testing my heart so much that it nearly shattered. Thank you for unknowingly leading me to Christ.

I realize there’s a huge door between us that seems like it’ll never be opened again. But as a believer in hope, healing, and freedom – I hope you know that this door is not nailed shut. Through more years of healing and forgiveness, I’m willing to begin cracking the door open. But do realize that it won’t be the same little girl on the other side of the door when you see her. That little girl has become a woman of grace, strength, and true beauty. And this time, you won’t tear her down.

“…Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.” – Isaiah 43: 1-2