I did it! I finally did it! I prayed for my stepmother! A real, genuine, heartfelt, loving prayer, actually asking God to bless her – WOW!! And it feels so…weird.
Anyone who knows me knows how much I absolutely, positively, without a doubt LOVE kids. All kids, from newborns to teens. I truly believe they are a blessing from God and that every child deserves as many people as possible on their side, fighting, teaching, and guiding them to become fully devoted followers of Christ. I believe every child deserves a chance to overcome their circumstances, to make good choices, and to be forgiven and lifted up when they fall. I believe they deserve to be told the truth and not lied to, to be loved and cared for, and to be allowed to make their own choices when appropriate. I also believe that God has not only breathed this love & passion into me, but He has also gifted me to teach, relate to, and truly empathize with the next generation. I can usually see their point of view & figure out ways to help meet their needs, and I know that’s not of me – that’s 100% God! So, it should come as no surprise that my big breakthrough in forgiving my stepmother came because of – you guessed it – children!
I learned recently that my sister (technically my half-sister, she’s my dad & stepmom’s daughter) is in the process of adopting four foster children. When I first found out, I’ll admit, I freaked out a little. I’ve been told my entire life that the reason my stepmother abused me & removed me from their lives completely is because I’m not her biological child. I’m a reminder that my father loved someone else before her, and because of that, I had to be eliminated. When I left her house at the age of 7, she wrote me off forever. My own brother didn’t even know I existed until a few years ago, and my sister (who was 2 when I left) wouldn’t have known either, if she hadn’t had scattered memories of me and been old enough to hear the fights my father & stepmother would have every time I tried to communicate with him. A few years ago, as an adult about to be married, she finally came right out and asked my dad about me, and he gave her my phone number and told her I would tell her the story. Words can’t describe how stunned I was when she called me. It was hard to tell her what had happened. After all, the villains in my story are the loving parents in hers. She grew up in a ‘normal’ family of four who did life together – church, school, work, home-baked bread…the whole 9 yards. No one knew there was a 3rd child who no one acknowledged, who lived a whole different life, completely the opposite of ‘normal’, who called different people her ‘parents’ ever y time she was asked & never really felt like she belonged anywhere. No one knew me.
So we talked, and eventually met, and through the years have developed a friendship. I love her, and I miss her when we don’t talk, but I also respect her need to be a part of her own family – and I know that my very presence in her life stands in the way of that sometimes. I know she wants children & hasn’t had any of her own, so I wasn’t surprised when Morgan saw her at an adoption event here in Stillwater, or when I learned that she was the official adoptive mom of 4 foster children. What did surprise me, though, was how I felt about it. My joy for her & her husband was peppered with resentment, jealousy, and fears that my stepmother would treat these children like she treated me. So, after struggling with these feelings for the last few weeks, my love for children finally overwhelmed my anger toward my stepmother, and I prayed:
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