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A daughters prayer
by Lizette Patrick
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The mother. That is what I call her on the bad days. On the days that I dread hearing the clicks of her high heels click against the kitchen floor and I find myself praying that they do not find their way upstairs to me. I never know what mood she is going to be in. Nothing ever satisfies her hunger to make everyone around her as miserable as she is. Nothing I have ever done in life is good enough for her. Not the fact the I finished college and have my bachelors degree, not the fact that I am an amazing mother to my son and most certainly not the fact that I am now a christian despite all the obstacles I have faced in life. To her, I am simply a failure. When she looks at me all she sees is one big fat mistake and she makes sure to remind me of every single mistake I have ever made almost daily. She is the one person that can cause my heart feel as someone has wrapped a rubber band around it so tightly that it feels as if it might burst. Although I am fully accountable for who I am now as a person because I am an adult now and I have been saved by God, in my teenage years the emotional pain that I endured led me to seek escape in unhealthy ways. The escapes that I sought were self mutilation, drugs, boys, and self hate. All the drugs that I did when I was a teenager was to escape the pain. All the boys that I threw myself at were used as a distraction to get away from her. Everything I ever did was an attempt to find a way to escape her.

So it is a bit ironic that now that now that I am in my late twenties after a failed marriage I somehow find myself back in the same house living with her after all my plans failed. The main difference this time is that I have God in my life and that makes a big difference. The biggest struggle I had when I moved back home is that she still has the power to send me into those dizzying spin of emotions. For the first couple months every time she would start one of her "games" (she likes to play her games usually when she has had her couple of drinks for the night, she gets this twisted look on her face and her eyes become dark and almost black) I found myself experiences a throb of flashbacks and the urge to find that razor blade that in my teenage years had faithfully served its purpose as a distraction from the emotional pain. Luckily this time I am older and I have God and my son, so the urge was fought and instead I usually find myself curled up in my old room letting my tears join all the other tears that have been shed on this carpet. As time has gone by and my faith has grown stronger, luckily the urge to fantasize about self destructive behaviors when she sends me into a tailspin has faded. Instead now I find myself going straight to God and praying until my eyes are dry and my heart no longer hurts.

She is my biggest obsticle when it comes to my faith. We are taught to love, to show grace to people who do not deserve it, to be a steward of Gods all mighty plan. I want to be an example to my family, but sometimes it can be very difficult because my mother is the one person that can make me feel every single worst feeling out there. Her words are like venom and her poison makes me become a person that I do not like. Everyday I am trying to find a way to work through the bitterness. I do not want to feel hate, but I simply do. Years and years of emotional abuse will do that to you I guess. The closest people to you can cause the worst of wounds

I can only pray that the situation that I have been given in life can be used as an opportunity to overcome with Gods love. It is very difficult to live with someone tearing you down daily and knowing that there is not much you can do about it because nothing is ever good enough. Nothing will ever be good enough. It is hands down the biggest obsticle in my faith is learning how to love someone that constantly belittles me, disrespects my faith, demands that I respect her even when she doesn't respect me. It is a challenge to live in an environment where my family acts as a unit against me...they do no respect my faith as a christian and take great joy in ridiculing my faith anytime they have a chance. They try to control everything and have an opinion about the smallest things from what I eat to how I raise my child. It is truly amazing that I became a christian considering my background. So as I proceed forward in my faith, my goal is to become a woman of grace. Even in the midst of a storm there is always hope of a brighter tomorrow.

This is a poem I wrote for my mother in hopes of replacing bitterness with love and hope.

You try to bring me down but with Gods hands I will not fall
You try to control everything that my feet touch, but only God controls my destiny.
You hate the world and everything in it. But God loves his creations and with his heart and eyes I will love them too.
You want me to see the world just like you do because misery loves company. But my God lives in me and my spirit is full of joy.
You think you are big and can crush me like an insect, but my God is bigger and he will build a fortress around me.
You seek earthly treasures and are never satisfied. I seek the treasures of heaven and my cup is always full.
You do not believe that prayers can be answered. But I KNOW prayers are answered even though my most desired prayer for you to be saved has not yet been seen.
However one day perhaps my greatest prayer will be shown to you by Gods amazing grace through me.


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