My mother’s pain; much of the memories in my childhood are estranged, unnerving and horrific ones; a typical product of a broken violent home. In so many ways than one, my initial home was not a good environment for young ones (or adults to say the least). In Africa, perhaps more so in Zambia, ideal Protective Services do not exist as they do in the Western world.
In the 20th-century one could pretty much rear his offspring like fiends in the wild so long no one is dying; well, thank goodness things are fast changing now; however, I was raised in the 20th century, by not so “happy” parents.
My mother, a typical housewife with little or no academic education was seldom in an ideal psychological state. Let me say she wasn’t really a “mother model”. I remember as a teenager ranting at her about how so incompetent she was; she neither cooked, cleaned the house; nor care much about our personal hygiene habits or appearance. She rarely had anything to say about our behavior as her children; though once in a while she would overly protest against extremely bad behavior in an abusive manner.
Overall her usual mood as well, apathetic or just sulky. She turned us over to our older siblings for all the motherly obligations including grooming, mentoring and raising us (which I must say worsened everything; they were equally bitter broken souls; phew! the agony!). On two occasions she left home (well as far as I can remember); when she returned from her first plight, I accused her of not having love for us. I mean why would she leave a perfectly good family and venture out into the cold relentless world with nothing but her hide? Young as I was, I still remember the look she gave me; the sadness, the sorrow and she said, “My children, you don’t love me, you just fear me”. It still hurts me that I was so oblivious to my mother’s pain- but then I was only a child.
The second time she left, she didn’t return. My immediate young sister and I set on a search escapade of which became successful only on the third attempt. Young as we were we crossed the Kafue River to an excluded farming area and we found her in a dilapidated state (till date my sister and I wonder where we got the fearless courage and how we found our way to her); despite her unmasked joy at seeing us, she refused to come home with us. Two weeks later though, she returned home and stayed at the servant’s quarters; shortly after which dad left us and never returned.
In more ways than one, I was always angry with mom for failing to manage her home as a woman, her failure to keep dad home and to provide a cozy happy home as other mothers (such as my friend’s mother) provided. I mean how hard can that be right? Much worse dad’s departure left me so broken; and sadly none of my six older siblings cared, let alone noticed(perhaps some did; but they did ;little to show it). It was literally ‘each man for himself’ no matter how young or old one might have been; moreover being emotionally vulnerable was a sign of stupidity and weakness in my childhood home.
Nine years in marriage with my own children, my heart often bleeds out for mom; her incompetence, her apathetic nature and every other negative that came along with her parenting skills were as a result of a broken heart, a wounded spirit, a really unhappy, bitter hopeless woman. I really can’t tell her story from my perspective but I know for a fact that no woman in her right mind can intentionally ruin her offspring’s childhood. She was a victim of mental pain and the result is evident in the lives of her children. My mother’s pain affected the outcome of her offspring’s emotional adjustments.One thing that children have to know is a parent is a human being too with hopes, dreams, passions and an ingrained strong desire to be loved and accepted. And when all those crumble down like a sand castle by the seashore, poorly handled, may end up ruining everything including the children themselves.
In the spiritual world, all those detrimental childhood/juvenile experiences are used by the devil in the formation of strongholds around you. Strongholds are lies that the devil surrounds you with; these prevent you from reaching your optimum potential, as well as alters your perception of the world around you most definitely in a negative way. To break free from the bondage of these strongholds, you have to forgive the offender.
I forgave my mother years ago; in fact, what she needed was compassion as she had been stuck in a loveless suffocating marriage and her whole life just wasted away in years of tears, unfulfilled dreams, and unhappiness. In so many ways, so many things were not her fault.Is there someone in your past that hurt you so bad that you just can’t seem to get over it? Perhaps his/her actions ruined your life to levels that seem nonredeemable?Unless you find it in your heart to forgive that person, you will never find real peace. Ask God in reverent prayer to counsel you and lead you into total forgiveness, such that all the hurt and the pain are replaced by peace. And instead of thinking of the offender with hate or anger, rather feel compassion for such a one who had not found relief from his/her mental pain to the extent of hurting those in proximity. Looking back today at her life, I often feel my mother’s pain and wish life would have been better for her.
Related Bible Texts
Get rid of all bitterness, rage, and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other just as Christ God forgave you. NIV
And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. NIV
Come unto me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. NIV