It Ain't Yours to Throw Away...

and what if you’re just a vessel, and God gave you something special…it ain’t yours to throw away. Every time you open up your mouth, diamonds come rolling out…

Did you ever dream about your wedding day as a little girl? I don’t remember if I did. I don’t remember playing dress up, playing Barbies, playing normal little girl games. I don’t remember what my dreams for my wedding day looked like-I don’t know if I ever imagined. 

This dream started coming closer in my teens. When I started being embraced by families, I started dreaming. I saw what reality was. REAL reality. And Jesus, the Miraculous Dream Catcher, heard my silent cries in the wind, and held each whispered dream captive, and He prepared my Will for me. 

I don’t have memories of playing pretend or dress up as a little girl. I have very real, vivid, painful memories-because being a little girl isn’t possible for some little girls. Being a big girl, a brave girl, a strong girl, a silent girl, is necessary for some. I had to survive, and I couldn’t wait around for a prince to kill the dragons for me. I needed to escape myself. I was too small, too fragile, to be able to kill them myself…so they lived on, slumbering silently.

But what do you do when someone comes (a prince) and begins slaying the dragons you left behind sleeping? 

And he woke them up, and took on the challenge. And I can no longer control the fight in front of my eyes. I can’t run, I can’t hide…and I don’t need to survive anymore. Instead, I watch, and embrace the protection, and the shield, God’s provided for me through my Will. 

These months of preparing to be wife and best friend to Will have been wrapped in an endless amount of events and emotions (and…of course…planning). It’s like a well-flavored burrito packed with all kinds of secret sauces and crunchy surprises (I hope I didn’t lose you at that strange analogy…). And-please hear me-this time is absolutely full of JOY. I feel celebrated and loved and excited…

But I have an ache that resides in my heart-and no words, no truth, can change this…because it’s my reality. And it’s painful. And it’s real and true, and-I can’t help but believe that God let’s us experience the pain for a purpose, and this thorn will bear a beautiful branch of fruit…

I am the only daughter of a mommy who will not share in my wedding day. She isn’t a part of my showers; I don’t get to pin a flower on her shirt to show her off as the Mom of the Bride. I don’t get to think about family dinners and her spoiling and holding my one-day-babies. We don’t sit together planning and laughing and dreaming and remembering my little-girl-imaginings. There are no heirlooms to pass down, no pictures to share. 

And this pain impacts everyday that I am engaged. She doesn’t want me-and, because of her mental-sickness, she can have no part of life with me. And I feel alone more often than not, and I reside in the feeling of being orphaned, and forgotten, and unloved by the one who was entrusted with me.

But this I call to mind, and so I carry hope… 

“Can a woman forget her nursing child,
that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb?
Even these may forget,
yet I will not forget you.

I’m not bitter. I don’t hate her. 

This is my truth, my reality that cannot be shaken or stolen:

I’m embraced, cherished, loved–I’ve experienced adoption, by Jesus, and by Family. God’s gifted me with Moms and Dads, brothers, sisters, friends…a soon-to-be husband. Family. And the walls of my heart have been broken by these loved ones that love me so well. 

I was an orphan, motherless…and this is my story. My heart bleeds raw daily-some days more than others. I can’t turn from this residing desire for my mom to see me.

But my legacy will not be that of a motherless-orphan. My legacy will be a new story, of a girl who faces dragons head on, beside her prince: her shield, and strength. 

Jesus, this mysterious miracle worker, has captured every tear, and listen to all my whispered wishes–he held them tightly and has slowly begun to release them as this day and new beginning approaches. And I know that I am not alone.