Freedom to Love

When I was a teenager, not many people believed me when I told them I didn’t “fight” with my Mom as a lot of my peers did. Actually, I considered Mom one of my best friends; I confided in her, laughed with her, and believe it or not, she didn’t embarrass me too much. Of course we had our spats as any two women living in one space are bound to have, but deeper than an occasional squabble was a deep-rooted, loving bond; an admiration, an adoration for my mother. Mom and I were buddies. I never foresaw the storm our relationship was about to weather when the time came for me to leave home. Leaving home was the most heart-wrenching circumstance I’ve ever found myself in, but I didn’t want to cry in front of any one and I didn’t want anyone to know how much it hurt to leave such a warm, caring “nest”; I didn’t even want myself to know. So to cope with the pain of leaving a family who had always been everything to me, who I had never been separated from for more than a couple weeks at  a time, I put up “I’m fine, this doesn’t really bother me that much, I’m big enough to handle this” walls around my heart. Because I adored my family so much and because the pain of leaving them was so intense I began to pretend everything was okay – that I wasn’t going to miss them that much – and whenever they would bring up something sentimental, though I felt like sobbing, I would swallow hard and take slow breaths in order not to cry. I wanted to be brave for them. That’s when things began to change between Mom and I. Slowly life separated us until we were polite to each other but nothing more… every door in my heart was closed and locked and eventually in hers too it seemed. She and I got along fine… when I lived 12 hours away. We talked on the phone nearly every day, but when I would see her in person my heart would grow defensive again and I didn’t know why. I’d never made a conscious decision to wall my heart off from the love that went so deep it hurt, it just happened. Eventually I moved into the same area as my parents, actually into the same two story farm house for an entire year; by then I was married with two babies and being “polite” to my mother was a way of life. We both had no heart-relationship, it was all surface level; we both had wounds caused by each other and neither of us were skilled in the art of confrontation. The confrontations that occurred between us were hurtful and even a little scary at times. She would say I love you and I would say it back but knew I didn’t mean it and I knew that if I did mean it I would have to cry and cry and cry on account of the flood of emotions dammed up inside of me. But slowly, very slowly, the Lord began to break into that place in my heart; slowly He began to show me why I felt I no longer had the ability to genuinely love my mom; He showed me that because leaving home – leaving the safety and warmth and the lifetime of memories I had there – was so painful for me that I became indifferent as a way to cope. Indifferent. That’s the right word. Indifference toward my family was my way of coping. And then I cried. And then I understood that I didn’t have to cope, that I didn’t have to be “brave” and detached and defensive but that I could be healed and my heart could be healthy and that I could love deeply again, yet this time without the pain. I don’t know when it happened, but my attitude towards my Mom turned from sarcasm to endearment and tenderness, and one day it occurred to me, “I love her. I love mom.” Now I hug her because I want to not because I feel obligated, and I run my hands over her hair and laugh with her and confide in her; now I can genuinely say that she is one of my best friends and that I love her with all of my heart. There is no more pain or fear in this love; it is love that comes from God Himself, and this love is stronger than heartache and loss and can conquer even the deepest mourning and numbness of the soul; this love, His love, is what brought me out of my indifferent prison and for that I am eternally grateful.  There is no freedom like the freedom to love.