Storm Stories: A Daughter’s Brightest Dawn

I have always admired this Storm Storyteller for her driven commitment to her marriage and to her family.  Today, she gives me hope about something I NEVER thought was possible.  And she does it all by…

Turning My Storm Around On Itself

by Rachel

This is the first time I’ve ever told this story publicly. It has without a doubt, proven itself to be the longest, and most painful storm of my life.

It’s not the kind of storm that’s easy to talk about for many reasons. But mainly because it’s not your typical storm that begins and ends within a measurable period of time. Or one that very many can understand or relate to. Because of my silence, it’s been an extremely lonely storm at times.

It began the moment I was old enough to notice that the mother/daughter relationship for most other girls and their mothers, was quite different than mine. As far back as I can remember, I remember noticing other little girls my age and their moms holding hands, sharing hugs and nose rubs, and interacting in loving manners with each other.

I would find myself staring at them and wondering what it must feel like to feel that kind of love given to your outwardly by your mother. I became somewhat aware very early on that although my mother was there with me in person, with me was not where she would have choose to be.

I don’t think for a second that she wanted to feel the way she did toward me as her daughter, or to ever hurt me. I think she just honestly felt resentful of her life in general and didn’t know how to change that. So a lot of the frustration came out on me.

Nevertheless, not only did I know in my heart how she really felt because of her actions towards me….or lack of. I was constantly reminded of it through her words.

I’ve given it all to God and He has helped heal my wounds to some degree, However, for quite some time it left me asking, “How do I forget what it felt like and still feels like to remember being told on repeated occasions that I had no purpose for existing? And that she could have aborted me and maybe she should have?” “That the only reason I existed was to serve her?” “That I better get in my room and get down on my hands and knees and ask God to forgive me or I was going to Hell.” 

I remember being not much older than my daughter is now when my mother would scream at me and verbally abuse me to the point that I was so afraid of her, I would literally pee in my pants. Too afraid even to tell her because I knew she’d be even more furious. I remember a time where I was pushed backwards into a bathtub by her because of something I had or hadn’t done. There was daily quoting of scriptures angrily to me to induce guilt. Which worked most times oddly enough.

I wanted things to be different. I wanted to be able to hug my mother without it feeling awkward and odd. I wanted her to be proud of something I did. I wanted to please her. It just never seemed to happen.

I’ll have to be honest and admit that at times, I almost believed the lies that were being pounded into the center of my being by my mother who was unknowing allowing the enemy to use her to destroy.

The lies that I wasn’t wanted.
That I would never be good enough.
That I was worthless.
That I had no value.
That I was the cause of my mother’s unhappiness and lack of success in life.
That I was just one big inconvenience.

However in all of this, I’ve never stopped loving my mother. And on some level I know she must love me. Even though I certainly have felt otherwise much of the time.

This storm hasn’t ended in the way that one would hope. Of course many aspects ended when I was no longer in her care and was out on my own. But I have, and probably will never feel cherished by my mother, adored, good enough, or know without a doubt that my mother is proud of the woman I’ve become. And she probably never will acknowledge the scars put upon my life as a result of that time in my life. But those are all things I cannot control. Therefore I cannot dwell on them. To do that would be to stay there. And I want to move forward.

But I will say that storms that don’t take us out or make us bitter, really DO make us better….if we let them. I can say without any reservation that I am who I am today in Christ because during those times in my life when I felt so alone, God was the friend that never left me alone or feeling worthless.

I know what it feels like to physically feel the arms of an almighty God wrap around a crying ten year old girl, shaking and holding the phone as she listened to her parents fight in the background.

I believe that sometimes God allows us to experience storms so that He can make His presence known in a way that we cannot deny was Him.

I also know that no matter what the circumstances or environment that we’ve grown up in, we are ultimately responsible for who we become. I cannot and will not go through life blaming my mother for the damage and hurt she unknowingly and un purposefully caused.

I have resolved to BE the kind of mother I never had and always wanted. To turn every dark cloud of the enemy to love and light in the lives of the children that have now been entrusted to my care.

I have chosen empowerment over blame. And am continually asking God’s help with forgiveness and grace over anger and resentment.

I do believe that every cloud has a silver lining. Every storm has a calm. Every dark night has a sunrise. And in my storm, although it’s not been removed in one sense, I have chosen and been given that silver lining by choosing a different path in my relationship with my children.

My pattern for mommy hood, while certainly not close to perfected on my part, has been one given to me straight from my heavenly Father.

Sometimes when I’m tickling my children just to enjoy hearing they’re laughter, or smooching them to death, or lying next to them while they sleep just to watch their little chests rise and fall, I feel healing cover my own soul. Healing in giving away what I did not receive.

Sometimes healing from our hurt comes in a way other than what we would have expected. Maybe the calm to our storm begins when we begin to let it change who we are, or who we’re going to be.

Sometimes while lying next to Olivia in bed after reading bedtime stories, God brings to my remembrance all the nights I cried myself to sleep because I always wanted that so badly as a little girl. In those times, instead of being angry and resentful for what I missed out on, in that moment I give Olivia that thing I always wanted.

With everything in me and the help of a mighty God, my little girl will never experience the void of her mother’s love, because God has rolled away the dark clouds of her mommy’s night storm and turned it into her brightest dawn.

Every time I give love away.
Every time I speak life giving words to my children.
Every time I give them hope.
Every time my arms embrace them. 
Every time I remind them that they are valued and wanted.
And that they are good enough just like they are; 
My heart heals. My winds calms. My storm weakens.

For I will restore to you health, and I will heal you of your wounds.

~ Jeremiah 30:17