It has been almost a year since I cut off contact with my parents. It has been a ravaging and soul-restoring year. I remember the prayer retreat last March that propelled me into a two-week march toward liberation and the beginning of breaking their 32-year stronghold.
It has also been about a year since my health began to rapidly decline. It’s hard to discern if the separation and progression of my illness were related, but I don’t know if I could have handled the deep vulnerability of becoming so sick while being in relationship with my mother. My illness would have served as an open invitation for her to uproot and plant herself in my town, and quite possibly my home. I would have had to erect extreme protective walls around myself and my children just to have to peace of mind to rest at night. Myself in the sick role would have re established mother-daughter dynamics that I never in a million years want to relive.
Oh, how I was spared from so much mental and emotional anguish. If I get really downright honest, I think that I managed to dodge the bullet that might have sent me straight to looney-town.
God in His mercy knew, a year ago, that I needed safety and distance from the dangerous people in my life because I was about to enter an extremely vulnerable season. He knew what He was doing. When He made it clear that it was time to cut the ties, he knew that those ties were about to strangle me, even though I could not see around the corner.
It has been a treacherous year. But I have lived it in a place of freedom and sincerity that I was unable to experience before. Sickness is so terrifyingly vulnerable, and it is so easy to find oneself in a place of potential exploitation. Praise the Lord that those who were geared to exploit me were finally out of the picture.
I am safe, and I am free to be vulnerable and have needs. I am surrounded by people love me and want what is best for me. I am so beyond blessed and thankful.