This is a very hard post to write, but one I feel led to share. It’s hard because I’m opening up my innermost thoughts and feelings, but also because I’m admitting how I was wrong. It’s not that I think I’m infallible; I’m wrong on a daily basis. But when you realize you’ve been wrong for roughly thirty years it kinda hits you hard.
My paternal grandfather passed away today. It wasn’t my biological grandfather, but rather the family I had been adopted into. I went to see him this week, as his condition had been seriously deteriorating, but I don’t think the reality of our relationship truly hit me until this morning. I was grieving to see a wonderful, Godly man pass from this earth, but when my sister asked me if I was okay I was quick to reference the fact that he and I were not extremely close. Yet immediately after speaking the words the Lord pricked my heart. God said,
When I was eight years old I found myself in new surroundings. My mother and I had moved to a new town, and I had ended up with a new dad. My biological father had left, and my mother’s new husband had adopted me! He was amazing. I had put him through every test my little heart knew to provide and he had passed with flying colors. Aside from a new dad and new home I also had an entirely new extended family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents close by. This was a new thing for me, and while it filled me with excitement, it also filled me with trepidation.
Somewhere along the way I had developed a very sensitive spirit. I was hyper-aware of reactions towards myself, and I think I tended to see more of a situation than was there. I took harmless comments from cousins and let them stick in me like a knife, and I took situations to mean more than they probably did. There was a place deep in my heart that had been wounded by my biological father giving me up, and Satan used that tiny seed of rejection. He multiplied it to become a wall that kept me from accepting the love of others. Fear of continued rejection ruined future relationships.
In my little girl mind I decided that my adoptive grandparents didn’t love me as much as they did their blood-related grandchildren.
There, I said it.
I decided this at a young, tender age, and I never allowed myself to believe any differently. Instead I allowed years and years to build on top of this false belief. So even though all the years growing up they showered me with kindness, affection, and love, I chose not to see that. Instead I would look at how they treated my siblings and try to form comparisons. For someone that wanted to be loved and accepted so much, in my mind I sabotaged any kind of relationship. I let Satan tell me that I couldn’t be loved like everyone else.
My grandmother passed away over twenty years ago, but I wasted the last couple of decades or so assuming my grandfather did not desire a close relationship with me. There was always that little voice in my head that said, “you’re not one of them.” That voice was a lie that prevented me from making wonderful memories that I don’t have the chance to revive now. And it wasn’t until this morning, following my grandfather’s death, that I realized I have been the one driving a wedge between us for thirty years. I’ve done it with more than just him. I decided in my mind that I was the black sheep of the family, and that is how I have remained.
I think sometimes in this life when we are hurt we tend to imagine things to try and prevent more hurt. It was easier for me to be in control and say “I don’t fit into this family.” At least in that sense I was making the decision, and that seemed like it would hurt less. Now I’m seeing what really hurts is thirty years gone of believing something that wasn’t true and letting that prevent me from great relationships. My solace is Heaven. I know it will be made right there. It’s just a shame I didn’t see this until now.