Going through my laptop, cleaning up files, I came across this little write up that I actually wrote on January 14, 2013 … and thought it worth sharing …
In the movie, “City Slickers,” there is a scene where three best friends are on horses and they talk about what the best day and worst day in each of their lives were. Mitch shares his best day, then his worst day. Then it’s Ed’s turn:
“I’m 14 and my mother and father are fighting again. You know, because she caught him again. Caught him?! This time, the girl drove by the house to pick him up. And I finally realized, he wasn’t just cheating on my mother, he was cheating on us. So I told him, I said, ‘You’re bad to us. We don’t love you. I’ll take care of my mother and my sister. We don’t need you anymore.’ And he made like he was gonna hit me, but I didn’t budge. Then he turned around and he left. Never bothered us again. But I took care of my mother and my sister from that day on. That’s my best day.”
Phil, taken aback asks, “What was your worst day?”
Ed sadly replies, “Same day.”
This scene always chokes me up, even now as I read it again, tears form. I know its because I’ve experienced this same kind of loss in my own life. It was the day I chose to omit my mother from my life, “You’re bad to me. You don’t love me.” It was a long, drawn out and anguishing decision, where I weighed all the pros and cons. I even considered how this choice would ripple into the lives of others. It was not a decision I took lightly or hastily. Being forced to have to even make a decision was excruciating. I had taken so much abuse and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I not only felt like an empty shell, void, sucked dry – but I actually was those things. I had nothing left to give – to anyone – I was utterly spent. What drove this decision was when she insulted and humiliated me once again in my own home at my kidlet’s birthday party. When everyone left after the party, I broke. I looked at my husband, choking back tears, “What is it about me that she can’t love me??” … and then it came. The answer. This is when God spoke – this voice that came from outside myself, gently and bluntly, “There is nothing you could ever do or say that will ever make her love you.” And everything in me broke – not just my heart, but my mind and my body as well. A part of me died that day. The Lord has always known that I need to hear things bluntly and clearly. He was right, of course – experience had shown me that this was as true as His words were. I tried so hard to have a healthy relationship with her, I tried so hard to love her in hopes that she’d love me back and nothing worked. In fact, the abuse got worse. I knew that there was nothing I could do or say or be that would ever be enough.
So if you asked me which day was my best day, it was the day that God showed me the truth about my mother – later backed by two visions and a whole lot of scripture verses, one being 2 Timothy 3:1-5 that described my mother as I know her that also says, ‘from such turn away.’ I could finally be free of her tyranny! That was my best day.
And my worst day? Same freaking day. As emancipating as it was that I could be free, I was also grieving the death of something I had high hopes of one day having – a healthy relationship with my mother where she loved me and respected me, where she was finally kind to me and not holding everything I ever did over my head – including the things she fabricated. That dream was dead. Gone. I mourned the death of that hope for well over two months. No one knows, except my husband, how hard a time that was for me.
My best day and worst day … same day. As bittersweet as it was then – sixteen years ago – and having mourned the loss of something that could never be, the Lord gave me so much more than I ever expected. He’s healing me, restoring me, and building me back up. He has been my Rock on this journey.
Because of that excruciating decision, He moulded me, and continues to mould me, into a woman whose heart is completely His. He moulded me into a better wife and a better mother … so that I could pass down a great legacy than the one I was given. You could say that I am living proof that great things are born out of great pain.
~ Saoirse Quill