From the inside out.

Yesterday Amanda was served with a custody change from her two year old daughter's father.  I have prayed that this would not happen yet, though I knew it probably would.  I've been very angry over the whole ordeal and this morning I finally processed the cause of my anger.  As with most things, the grace and power of God are multi-dimentional, reaching out in all directions to heal and change the hearts and lives of those who are his.
My parenting skills were less than the best.  My father doted on me; my mother could barely stand me: I was never good enough for her for whatever reason.  We've been working on that for a couple of years and it's better, but not fixed by any means.  When I married the girls' dad, who made my life hell for 17 years, she said he was the son she always wanted.  She frequently informed me that he was more like her child than I was.  I didn't ever say anything.  My life was definitely full of mistakes. 
I loved my girls so much.  I thought I could protect them by being strict and ever present.  It didn't work.  Each of them rejected my home, my life and eventually my moars and belief.  Yes they have their own belief, but they will be quick to inform you -and me- 'it is not my belief.' 
I had grandchildren who were so close and promised undying love.  Yeah, I'm a grown up.  I knew they would grow up and choose a life beyond me - physically, morally and emotionally.  I have reestablished relationship with some as adults, but the sweet fellowship and unity I thought would be there was fleeting at best and basically illusive, as it was with the parents.  Do they love me?  I think so in their own way.  But like the parents, not in any way that effects life, morality or thinking. 
Amanda was my last child.  When she left Arkansas, she didn't even say 'good-by.'  It's quite possible she said 'good-riddance.'  Did I make mistakes with her?  I did.  You'd have thought after 4 I would have had a clue, but I didn't.  When she got pregnant, she was in North Carolina.  I was given pictures every now and then by the person who really mattered in her life.  I could not even admit it made me jealous and mad.  I really had no right.  I had already been rejected.  I was hurt.
When her baby was born, it was her sister who stood by her bed.  We did go to see her right after she got home, but it was in her sister's house - and we felt like intruders in the home, the baby scenerio and their lives.  We left vowing we'd never stay with them again and not just me.  I love her sister with all my heart, but that's a different story.  I won't be subject to that disrespect even if I deserve it in some way.
I've never gotten to be a gramma to Emma.  I've seen her 4 times in her 2 years.  The most recent was the afternoon we picked Amanda up to bring her back to Arkansas and try to get her some help. 
If this custody thing goes the way it is written, I never will get to be a gramma to her.  Boohoo, I know, yet there it is.  At least with the others, I've had my gramma time.  I've had my sweet talks.  I've had my promises.  They are sweet, precious memories that will carry me through the droughts in our relationships.  I wanted that with Emma somehow.  At Christmas, she only warmed up to me the slightest bit.  She did have fun with grampa and that I was glad of.  The previous visits were at birth and at 3 months.  The afternoon we picked her mom up, she had no knowledge or remembrance of me.  She really wanted nothing to do with me at all.  I can't blame her.  I am a total stranger.  Angry, sad, wounded and a stranger.  I had hoped for so much more.  I believed for so much more.  And suddenly the small light that flickered was going out.
So this day, I processed it.  I looked it in the face and then bared it before my God, my Savior.  Oh, yes, I still have an opinion.  I still want.  But I have little to base hope on except that my God loves me and will get me through this. 
I do cry for my daughter.  She came here to try to get her life straightened out so she could be the mother she wanted to be.  It was not an easy decision, even if she was to a great degree forced into it.  It's not a fast fix.  We all knew that going in and after a few days, we understood it much more. 
The opportunism of the people who now care for Emma was enhanced by her situation.  They didn't have to lie.  The truth was condemning enough.  But they did lie.
I apologized to my God for my self-centeredness; I recognized my arrogance and snobbery.  I can only now sit and watch how it plays out.  I will toss myself and my pitiful weakness on his mercy and pray for grace and forgiveness.  I will ache each time I see my daughter's eyes well with tears, each time I hear her say "I did this.  It is my fault."
I will pray.  I will listen.  I will walk forward.  I will believe because I choose to believe that God may yet be gracious to us.
Today I sat in my livingroom by myself with tears on my face.  I heard within myself a voice singing an old hymn - only the first part: 'Be still my soul, the Lord is on your side; bear patiently your cross of grief and pain. Leave to your God to order and provide; in every change He faithful will remain.'