For most of my life, I’ve been numb to my parents’ expectations. They jabbed in the side like a dull knife, but I pretended it hadn’t hurt me. Their need for perfection in me was met with my own calloused sarcasm and cynicism. Give me anything, and I can turn it into a joke.
Recently, I’ve begun forgiving my mom, and with it came a grand sense of relief. I was becoming more open to loving her, caring about her as a person and respecting her journey of growth. So, when she called me on Thursday, hysterical and anxious, I found the will to love her. I tried to support her emotionally and affirm what she was going through. After a hour and half conversation, I hung up, feeling as if my mom and I had come to a new sense of relationship, instead of the one-up-manship she had always pulled on me.
I found out later, she thought it was hilarious and “so cute.” I’d failed to pick up that she was mocking me.
These are the times that I want to walk away.
I see my family like a broken bottle, our shards ground into the sidewalk. No one would think about picking us up and gluing us together again. Each member carries his or her own unhealthiness, each calls to vent about the other to the only person that will listen. And when I hang up, I weep. The craziness escalates and I see it consuming us. Phone calls and emails and manipulative apologies and vindictive passive aggression, and it’s so hard not to get sucked in. It’s hard not to manipulate and belittle them into getting what I want.
I’ve been praying to ask the Lord what is the difference between obedience and obligation. We can be so stifled by obligation we turn to free-flowing no-rules love, but without considering the obedience element. I’ve never seen obedience done right. I’ve never seen love done right.
I heard a quote that we should pray for the things we can’t do ourselves. My prayer and my heart go out to my family. It’s so tempting to walk away or detach. Yet, I know that He wants to show us redemptive love.
“Love is not self-seeking…” 1 Corinthians 13:5
