My hands are clammy. My heart is racing. I want to take “flight” in this moment. I don’t like this feeling.
My anger lingering; my joy dissipating. His too.
We’ve been here before. This tug of war. This battle.
He’s got one end of the rope. I’ve got the other.
Control and Fear at war inside both of us. They go hand-in-hand seems like.
Who will drop the rope?
Loving a child from a hard place is challenging but being a child who has faced so much in so little time is even harder.
Tension rising. Space pushing us farther and farther apart.
I put walls up and so does he. Guarding our hearts from being hurt feels like protection; a coping mechanism.
This tug of war; we’ve been here so many times before.
Satan, you can’t have this relationship.
This one is not yours to have. You have no authority. You have no power. You may try to get us into a tug of war. You may start this fight but you will not have the final say.
You can’t destroy this.
You have no power here. Hurt and pain are inevitable on this side of heaven but this relationship you will not have Satan.
We’ve come so far in so little time. I’ve seen healing, breakthrough, more healing, and change in ourselves and with each other. We have grown closer to one another in the past few months.
I sit on the porch and curse silently to the wind. I feel confusion towards the process and frustration directed at the pain. He must feel the same way but in a different way; at a loss. His whole life has been hard.
I feel someone behind me.
“I am sorry Mrs. Chelsie.”
He drops the rope this time. I could’ve too as I think about it but he did it first. I think to myself, Such maturity for his age. He teaches me how to say sorry more than I realize. This is something I can work on as I reflect.
I breath a sigh of relief as he comes and sits next to me. My body begins to ease and my anger dissipates; my joy comes back.
Healing draws us closer to one another. Healing builds the bridge between us.
Satan, you can’t have this.
This time you lost.
Together we sit and together we are.