Is the battle lost?
Lost and found came in the wake of the reality that my ‘baby’ was approaching 18 and my time as a certain type of mother was ending. He is now 20, and doing well. I am now even more lost than found; I wonder if there will come a day that I understand something in the roles I hold. On this day, I have significant doubt.
It is Monday, and yesterday was Easter. I manage a church and this is my holiday. I thought I would have a day to myself, but that is not happening. Everyone is home today, still sleeping at 9:30, and I feel an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia. Every wall is closing in, as my breathing is heavy and short. I would typically have a vacation scheduled at this point; however, that is not on the books until August. There is no out. I am hostage in my own life.
The tragedy of this fact is that I have been held hostage in my own life most of my life. As a child, surviving the torture of abuse at the hands of a sick and twisted sexual predator, I was a hostage. In response to the horrific abuse, I made one devastating choice after another that left me hostage to my own consequences. Now, as an aging mother of four, I remain a hostage to consequences of others.
I have a choice I suppose. I could not intervene in the care of my grandchildren. I could not agree to offer our home for times of new beginnings to our once wayward son. I could force evictions. I could have allowed my grandchildren to return to their mother, before there was a home in place. Common sense and my heart will not allow it.
Therefore, using the term hostage is not relevant. I tied my own wrists. I placed myself into the cell, reached out and locked the door, and tossed the key across the room. I am responsible for these choices. I am not enabling in any way- or I am not intentionally meaning to. I am offering a hand up, I am protecting the innocent, and I am allowing an easier path to my youngest, rather than high rent and debt.
Am I sacrificing myself in the process? Am I failing to balance a giving and caring heart with allowing others to deal with their business? What is my responsibility in all of this life circling around me like a preying hawk? Have I lived this life just to be a mouse running and hiding from the grip soaring above me?
These are the questions of my mind. My heart feels this desperate need to love unconditionally, to protect ferociously, and to help unfaltering. I have no idea where the road ahead leads. In fact, I honestly can’t see but a few feet away. The truth is the pieces are scattered, and the reassembly has not begun. There are no answers in any of this. I may not be a hostage to my own choice, but I am a hostage to the unknown. Whatever comes next, I pray for the strength to stay and be present.
Right now, I am feeling more like running and enduring the path of escape. This life has left me exhausted, and with a diminished resolve. I long for something different and secure. Retreat is not an option. I will stay the course, I always do. I fear I do it with rebellion and rage. We will see what comes next.