Rose Colored Glasses…
Yes, we all wear a set of rose colored glasses.
These glasses are colored or tainted by our experiences in life. I was talking about this with my precious boy the other day. He was asking about the bad choices I had made in life. He asked if they were from my biological dad.
I have reached the conclusion that I can no longer protect him from a lot of truths. He is wise and so smart. He can access a situation and pin point something right away, not always, but a lot of the time.
So again, here is your transparency warning…
I took a deep breath and explained that yes, the situation with my biological dad began a round of lies that I began believing at an early age. He did not chose to be a Daddy to me, but he chose to be a ‘dad’ to two other children. The last time I saw him I was about 3 years old. Not sure when the last time I actually talked to him. My last contact with any of his family was when I was in 6th grade. As a mother of children of this age, I cannot imagine who would walk away from a child, their child, like that. This situation, it told me that I was worthless if my own father didn’t want me. That began a long line of lies that fed into how I viewed myself.
not enough for anyone not worth loving not worth fighting for not worth knowing
not good enough not smart
And the bad decisions I made along the way just backed up what I believed! Vicious Circle I then explained that all I wanted was to be wanted, chosen, cherished… I wanted to know that I was special. Isn’t that why we play princess and dress-up? We want to feel special. I wanted to be wanted by my biological father, but I didn’t understand that at the time, so I looked to the boys for that attention. I took it to heart when little girls were mean like little girls are. It fed the self hatred. I chose to date guys that didn’t see their worth so how I could they see mine? I didn’t love myself, so why should they? I saw that my life wasn’t what I wanted it to be and I wanted an adventure. I walked away from the path that God had me on, one of healing, and chased adventure…yes, it was an adventure…a heart breaking one that is still playing out, only this time… it’s my children’s hearts that are breaking. I thought God loved me the same way my father did and those guys did. So I ran.
Do I mourn… yes, I mourn the life God meant for me to have and the precious broken hearts of my children.
I am grateful for my God. This past November, He called me to him. He drew me, away from the lies and the people around me, close to him and whispered to me…”My child, I love you. I love you the way I designed you. You are precious and I am wrapping my arms around you, holding you. You are my chosen one. I am not Him and his ways are not mine. I am picking you up and carrying you to where I want you… hold my hand. Rest your head on my shoulder as I rock you and love on you. Let me heal your heart. “ I remember standing in the service, in the balcony, singing a hymn of praise that said, “ I want to sit at your feet, lean back against you and breathe and feel your heart beat.” As I sang that song, I leaned my head back, reached my arms in the air and reached for my Daddy. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I begged him to hold me, rescue me, love me. I saw Him, I felt Him. It was a breath taking feeling; one of rest and peace and comfort. I KNOW the story of the prodigal son… I am he.
At that moment, I began to hear and see so many things more clear. I could see people for who they were, I could see their hurt. Although I see things first through my rose colored glasses, God then shows me what I need to see so that I can make wise choices for me and my precious family.
I challenge you, my friends…
Take off your rose colored glasses, my friends, and put on the glasses of True Love.
Isaiah 29:16
New International Version (NIV)
16 You turn things upside down,
as if the potter were thought to be like the clay!
Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it,
“You did not make me”?
Can the pot say to the potter,
“You know nothing”?
Isaiah 45:9
New International Reader's Version (NIRV)
9 How terrible it will be for anyone who argues with his Maker!
He is like a broken piece of pottery lying on the ground.
Does clay say to a potter,
"What are you making?"
Does a pot say,
"You don't have any skill"?
Isaiah 64:8
New International Version (NIV)
8 Yet you, LORD, are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
Jeremiah 18:4
New International Reader's Version (NIRV)
4 His hands were shaping a pot out of clay. But he saw that something was wrong with it. So he formed it into another pot. He shaped it in the way that seemed best to him.
Are you moldable, my friend?
