Was It Love or Was It...

 Was It Love or Was It...

According to Wikipedia, betrayal is defined as “the breaking or violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict within a relationship amongst individuals.” 

Is this a story of betrayal or the story of a mother wanting to save the life of her son? You be the judge. 

At the age of five, I trailed behind a group of individuals, accompanied by my mom and the evil person she had married. We were entering what would be my new residence. I had been removed from my home because of the torture I was enduring by this evil person. Describing the extent of the damage he wrought upon me and my siblings is a challenge; the scars he left run deep, making it difficult to articulate the sheer malevolence he embodied. 

I have never given that person the satisfaction of calling him a man or even a step dad. You may feel the emotion in my words even in describing this person, but this story is not about him. It’s more about the emotions I’ve carried around for decades. I’ve been treading around these waters for a few years now. I’ve been sticking my toes in, and sometimes I can put my whole foot in. Now I’m about to be waist deep in these waters of betrayal. My hope is that I don’t fall in a pit here and sink. 

My biological father was absent from my childhood. For most of my life, I’ve held him responsible for the pain and suffering caused by the poor choices my mom made. He ended his race with a bullet.

I remember entering that giant brick building that I would call home from then on. I met my new mother and all my new brothers. “This is George,” she screamed to the entire house. As I stood at the door with my paper bag of clothes, I watched my mom walk away. As my mom and the social worker drove off, I could see her looking back at me. I could see the anguish in her tiny eyes. 

I wasn’t sure if she would ever come back for me, or if she would make it through her own torture at the hands of this evil person. I could only hope that the evil would die.

I was led to my bed in a row of several other boys. They just looked at me as if I were damaged goods. In truth, we were all in the same boat. None of us had a place to call home. There was no one to give us a hug, no one to crease our hair, and no one to say the words, “I love you.” We were all isolated in our own little worlds. Even at five, we were all trying to understand why we were betrayed. Or were we? 

It wasn’t until recently that I realized the deep-seated emotion I had been carrying all along was betrayal. For so long, I harbored feelings of anger, frustration, and resentment towards my mom, feeling there must be something more beneath the surface. Despite knowing about forgiveness and surrendering to God’s will, I still felt a profound sense of confusion about this aspect of my life. 

Now, as I immerse myself in this story, I realize that if I can finish it, I will break free from strongholds that have bound me for decades. This story is unfolding in real time and the emotions that are surfacing are really extraordinary.

We have defined what betrayal is, but what about love? Let’s delve into this further.

Love encompasses a range of intense and positive emotional states, ranging from profound virtues and deep interpersonal affection to the simplest pleasure. For example, the love of a mother differs from the love of a spouse, which differs from the love for food. Most commonly, love refers to a feeling of strong attraction and emotional attachment.

People consider love to be both positive and negative, with its virtue representing human kindness, compassion, and affection—defined as "the unselfish, loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another” (Wikipedia). 

After reading this definition, I find my heart overflowing with love for my mom. Suddenly, the fear, depression, anger, disgust, and resentment I felt for her for just disappear. The betrayal I had carried with me for so many years now seems insignificant. The last sentence in the definition says it all. She demonstrated love in an unselfish and loyal way, and her concern was for my well-being. It’s clear to me now that she was never solely focused on herself. She wanted to save me and give me the best chance at life that I could have, and for that I am forever grateful. 

Is it possible to feel betrayed and deeply loved but not know it? I’m not talking about something that happened last year or a few years ago; this happened decades ago, and it’s one of my first memories. For most of my life, I’ve had a profound lack of trust and confidence in others. I never knew she loved me that much. Identifying with the betrayal was so easy for so many years. But as I write this, I realize it wasn’t betrayal at all—it was an act of love, a desperate attempt to rescue me from the death that was sure to come. 

Now that’s she’s gone, there is no opportunity to express my gratitude. No chance to embrace her, kiss her, or explain to her that her child has overcome this deep-seated emotion of betrayal. I can only lift my eyes to the heavens on this moonlit night and cry out to her, screaming, “I love you.” 

It reminds me of the song, Scandal of Grace. (Hillsong)

Too much to make sense of it all

I know that Your love breaks my fall

The scandal of grace

You died in my place

So my soul will live

Her motive will always be a scandal of grace. I am now free from this emotion of betrayal and full of the grace of her love.

The song reminds us that the true scandal of grace brings true life to our soul that this world wants to destroy, 

All to be like You

Give all I have just to know You

Jesus, there's no one beside You

Forever the hope in my heart

Now, the story goes on. I’m now walking out of this river of water that has surrounded me for so many years, and now I’ve been washed and baptized in the truth that has set me free. It was out of love! Forever, Mom, you brought hope to my heart. I love you, Mom! 

Jeremiah 29:11

New Living Translation

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.

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Teardrops

Teardrops 

I’m sitting here watching the lake today. It’s a beautiful day; the sun is shining so brightly, and the wind is very soft. With every bright day, there is always a chance a storm will pop up. Suddenly, the wind shifts direction, gaining strength, and I observe the clouds swiftly advancing over this picturesque lake. I can see the storm brewing in the back side of these clouds. The clouds are getting darker and darker, and they are twisting in and out as if they are playing with each other. 

As the storm draws closer, I retreat from my seat on the deck into the screened-in porch. Standing with my arms crossed, I am mesmerized by this beautiful storm. It’s more enchanting than words can describe. I’ve never seen a storm like this before. You know all storms are different in the countless eyes of humanity.  

The storm now approaches land, and I notice the wind has a calming effect to it. Then the beauty comes. The clouds are now darker than ever, and they are rolling like waves in the ocean. I can hear them rumble. As I step closer to the screen on the porch, I observe something that is falling out of the sky; it resembles rain, but it’s not wet.  

Transparent, tear-shaped drops fall gently to the ground as if they are waiting to be caught. Some are as large as pears, and some as small as garden peas. I see them hitting the ground, but they just disappear.

I want to open the screen door, but I’m not sure if it’s safe. Larger drops, now clear, float by, inviting discovery. The smaller ones require me to be closer than I am comfortable. 

I can see it now. These are drops of memories and emotions, each with a story to tell. As I study them closer in my safe place on the porch, I notice each drop has an emotion to release. Am I safe now? I’m not sure.  

I’m drawn to this storm for some reason; I feel compelled to step out in it, but I don’t right away. The pull is getting stronger, and the force is beginning to pull me. 

 

The storm intensifies, and I am drawn outside, surrendering to its beauty and the memories it unveils. I’m no longer fearful of this storm, but now embrace these emotions and memories. 

In the grass, I  see emotions and memories in teardrop form, wanting to escape their prison. The larger drops are floating ever so closely to me. They are not speaking, but they are replaying the emotion and the memory that was blind but now seen. This storm has brought a title wave of these emotions and memories. It’s so clear to me now; it is safe for me to see these now.

The trees are now swaying back and forth, the wind is picking up, and these emotions and memories are circling around me more. They want to be discovered and released from their teardrop form. They have been trapped in this prison for so many years. I’ve never really noticed what was falling to the ground until today when I took the time to watch the approaching storm. 

The storm uncovers what was trampled, kicked, and covered up for years. The larger drops swirl around me in a twister like fashion, causing the drops on the ground to come to life. In the vortex, I feel safe capturing each story of grace, redemption, and my place in humanity. 

Some may not understand, and that’s okay; your storm has not come across the lake just yet. When it does, don’t be afraid to step out and examine each teardrop as it falls. Don’t miss the grace that has been given to you; it’s where I used to be. 

There is another in the storm that is next to you. You can hear him if you listen. Don’t be afraid to leave those drops on the ground; some are meant for harm, but all have a place in your life. They are part of the totality of the storm. 

I’m crying, but there are no tears; no one sees and does anyone really care? Can you see there are no tears on this little boy’s face? Why do you say he’s sad or in pain? Can it be possible to cry inside where no one ever sees? It’s possible!

For those whose storm is on the way, take shelter, wait for safety, and remember the purpose in each drop. The storm that brings destruction becomes a beautiful storm of life, breaking strongholds, and bringing peace into your life. All these drops in the vortex of this twister can move us all into healing and bring a tranquility to life that is more than you can ever imagine. 

Acknowledging the storm across the lake wasn’t easy, but through life’s circumstances, I was ready. Caught up in a vortex, I was lifted to a sky of freedom, peace, and contentment. 

I am looking forward to writing out each of these emotions and each memory that goes along with that. Burn like a fire! This world needs you!     

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