Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Kindergarten and Waterfalls
My daughter is going to kindergarten in the fall, and it's breaking my heart.
My heart is not breaking because I will miss her, although I will miss her company. I'm not worried about her academically, because she is more than ready. I'm not scared that she won't make friends, because she is going to be Queen Divalicious Of The Playground and will develop a fan base wherever she goes. I'm heartbroken because I see myself in her 5 yr old body and I'm desperate to stop the progression of time.
I remember being 5. As a matter of fact, my first memories emerge from that season of my life and I remember exactly two things. I remember having a friend named Wendy, who had freckles and red pigtails. Come to think of it, isn't she the face of a fast food restaurant?
I see the two of us running out to the playground and I can hear her telling me to run faster. We bound out to the field beyond the playground and start digging, and I hit a buried 2X4. When I tell my friend that it feels warm, a 4th grader overhears me and says that it was warm because it's the doorway to Hell. Horrified, we run back to the Kindy playground screaming the whole way, convinced that Lucifer himself is behind that board, waiting to drag us to the underworld. Needless to say, I hung by the monkey bars for the rest of the year.
My other memory is of my 5 year old self, sitting at my desk in wet pants, too humiliated to tell my teacher. She finally noticed the puddle beneath my chair and called me out in front of the class, telling me that she didn't think she had any more clothes for me. Why is it that the shameful memories come back in 20/20 sharpness, when the good ones aren't quite as clear?
These two memories are a bookend to my school career, and it was pretty much downhill from there. My mother's mental illness became more apparent in the next few years, and although I was a good student, my home life was very unpredictable so this made for a very insecure and sad little girl. 28 years later, here I am watching my little clone walk into the next season of her life and I'm having a really hard time.
My daughter looks like me, acts like me, talks like me, moves like me. This has triggered a sort of deja-vu effect, where I see a little Spiritual Ingenue headed into the childhood I lived. Realistically, I know that this is not her future because unlike her mother, she lives in a stable home and has a bullet proof self esteem. However, I find myself overwhelmed with emotion as I watch her grow and I feel an almost animal- like instinct to halt the process of time so she'll never have to experience what I went through.
I want to grab my daughter and scream, "Don't grow up! Don't walk down this road because there is pain ahead and I can't bear to watch you walk into that! Stay here with me so I will know you are safe! I will shield you and protect you with my life, just please don't get any older!" I am fighting the urge to hold her back from a destiny I lived out, which is not her destiny. Like many others, I experienced sexual abuse at the hands of others so I see the bad people of my past in her future, when in reality they don't exist. It's as though I'm about to dream a bad dream that I can't stop but I know won't happen, if that makes sense.
When I set aside my emotions, I realize that sin has many layers, affecting not only the sinner and victim, but trying to claim future victims as well. Someone else's sin that affected me is acting like a waterfall, threatening to steal my faith in God's hand of protection over my child. It is also trying to reclaim its place of destroyer in my own life, threatening to undo the healing that God has done in this area. I feel myself victimized all over again by the doubt that is trying to sneak into my spirit, and I hate it.
So, I tearfully pray Jeremiah 29:11 over both of my children, claiming hopeful and prosperous futures full of light and joy. I remind myself of the freedom, restoration and healing I have found in Christ regarding my abuse, and I do my best to dwell in that spacious place God has set my feet upon. And, I rejoice in watching my beautiful daughter walk confidently into a safe and shielded future, thankful that she has parents who are ever watchful and prayerful over her life. Most of all, I thank God that He puts to death once and for all the sin that would love to take down another victim through fear and doubt. Thank you Father that You are a God who lavishes generational grace over His children. You are beautiful, healing, and eternally loving, and I praise You for covering this mother with the reality of who You are.
Just one small request: pray for me in a few months when it's time to walk her to her class, won't you?
Copyright © 2004-2005 spiritual ingenue. All Rights Reserved.My heart is not breaking because I will miss her, although I will miss her company. I'm not worried about her academically, because she is more than ready. I'm not scared that she won't make friends, because she is going to be Queen Divalicious Of The Playground and will develop a fan base wherever she goes. I'm heartbroken because I see myself in her 5 yr old body and I'm desperate to stop the progression of time.
I remember being 5. As a matter of fact, my first memories emerge from that season of my life and I remember exactly two things. I remember having a friend named Wendy, who had freckles and red pigtails. Come to think of it, isn't she the face of a fast food restaurant?
I see the two of us running out to the playground and I can hear her telling me to run faster. We bound out to the field beyond the playground and start digging, and I hit a buried 2X4. When I tell my friend that it feels warm, a 4th grader overhears me and says that it was warm because it's the doorway to Hell. Horrified, we run back to the Kindy playground screaming the whole way, convinced that Lucifer himself is behind that board, waiting to drag us to the underworld. Needless to say, I hung by the monkey bars for the rest of the year.
My other memory is of my 5 year old self, sitting at my desk in wet pants, too humiliated to tell my teacher. She finally noticed the puddle beneath my chair and called me out in front of the class, telling me that she didn't think she had any more clothes for me. Why is it that the shameful memories come back in 20/20 sharpness, when the good ones aren't quite as clear?
These two memories are a bookend to my school career, and it was pretty much downhill from there. My mother's mental illness became more apparent in the next few years, and although I was a good student, my home life was very unpredictable so this made for a very insecure and sad little girl. 28 years later, here I am watching my little clone walk into the next season of her life and I'm having a really hard time.
My daughter looks like me, acts like me, talks like me, moves like me. This has triggered a sort of deja-vu effect, where I see a little Spiritual Ingenue headed into the childhood I lived. Realistically, I know that this is not her future because unlike her mother, she lives in a stable home and has a bullet proof self esteem. However, I find myself overwhelmed with emotion as I watch her grow and I feel an almost animal- like instinct to halt the process of time so she'll never have to experience what I went through.
I want to grab my daughter and scream, "Don't grow up! Don't walk down this road because there is pain ahead and I can't bear to watch you walk into that! Stay here with me so I will know you are safe! I will shield you and protect you with my life, just please don't get any older!" I am fighting the urge to hold her back from a destiny I lived out, which is not her destiny. Like many others, I experienced sexual abuse at the hands of others so I see the bad people of my past in her future, when in reality they don't exist. It's as though I'm about to dream a bad dream that I can't stop but I know won't happen, if that makes sense.
When I set aside my emotions, I realize that sin has many layers, affecting not only the sinner and victim, but trying to claim future victims as well. Someone else's sin that affected me is acting like a waterfall, threatening to steal my faith in God's hand of protection over my child. It is also trying to reclaim its place of destroyer in my own life, threatening to undo the healing that God has done in this area. I feel myself victimized all over again by the doubt that is trying to sneak into my spirit, and I hate it.
So, I tearfully pray Jeremiah 29:11 over both of my children, claiming hopeful and prosperous futures full of light and joy. I remind myself of the freedom, restoration and healing I have found in Christ regarding my abuse, and I do my best to dwell in that spacious place God has set my feet upon. And, I rejoice in watching my beautiful daughter walk confidently into a safe and shielded future, thankful that she has parents who are ever watchful and prayerful over her life. Most of all, I thank God that He puts to death once and for all the sin that would love to take down another victim through fear and doubt. Thank you Father that You are a God who lavishes generational grace over His children. You are beautiful, healing, and eternally loving, and I praise You for covering this mother with the reality of who You are.
Just one small request: pray for me in a few months when it's time to walk her to her class, won't you?
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