Blood Shed, Forgiveness to Accept

None of us deserves the grace that God gives us none of us deserves the blood that was shed for our sins, but he gives it to us anyway.

Kaitlyn, like anyone else,deserves forgiveness and deserves a second chance; and if I could give away all my future so that she would have that second chance, I'd give it gladly.

I understand that my sadness and my pain doesn't come from her.l  The sadness in her brain - that what she's feeling and experiencing - those are hers, but I am sad because it is Christmas and I miss my daughter.

I have missed her for a long time now and I understand fully that the angry young woman right in front of me is not the daughter that I'm missing, and I understand that I may never have a relationship with this confused and angry young woman.

When Kaitlyn is under the influence or when her hormones are out of control, that other side of her comes out and she's pretty mean and vindictive.

I got a chance to see that this weekend -  first in a phone conversation and then secondly in my face-to-face visit with her.l  She was aggressive and angry.  Maybe I have no sympathy for her, or maybe I am tired.

I do not want to make decisions for her future based on my hurt feelings, but this is the side that I see of her the most often - the mean and ugly and hateful side.  The sweet side that I've seen a little bit up in the last couple of weeks, and I haven't seen that in a long time.

It brings into question whether her addiction started from her emotions and pain or whether the addiction is a result of her bipolar disorder.  The swinging personality often happens with no trigger.

It makes me think of my dad in the last year so his life; he had gone to a rehab after hip replacement surgery and was sober for the first time in years.  For the longest that I can ever remember my dad was always intoxicated, but he was, in his sober moments, so mean and vindictive and just horrible to people.

It is a very helpless feeling to be right here - first as a child wondering what I could do or what I can say to make it better for my dad  and now as a parent wondering what I can do what I can say to make it better for my daughter.

She wants her way; that's all that will satisfy her when she's in this mood - no arguing no disagreeing, no trying to reason - just tell her she's right. There is no moving forward;  she pushes a point that she knows is wrong just to incite the conflict.  She wants desperately to be right, even though she knows she can't win that specific point.  I have fallen prey to this trap many times in the past.  If I agree with her, she gets irritated because she feels I do not listen; if I disagree with her, then she gets to say no one understands her.

I need professional help to decipher what she's actually saying. I realize by inciting a conflict with me, she's hoping for connections. I feel she's just drowning inside and  trying to figure it out herself just like I'm trying to figure it out.

We are truly stuck.  Prayer and complete reliance on God's mercy keeps me going each day.  There is just no easy fix, and I'm dealing with a young woman who has legal authority to walk away from our relationship as I try to salvage bits and pieces.

Amber to Amber

Ok, as this ordeal of my daughter's disappearance heads into week 2, my mind refuses to quiet, and I find myself replaying so many things over and over until I am uncertain where the reality and confusion collide.  Seventeen years ago as I was in labor waiting for this precious girl to arrive, we still did not have a middle name picked out to go with Kaitlyn.  All over the news was the story of Amber Hagerman, the 9 year old Arlington, Texas girl who had been brutally snatched off her bike and murdered.  Out of tribute to Amber, Kaitlyn's middle name became Amber.  The reason behind the selection has been proudly told to Kaitlyn for many years.

So imagine the twisted irony when my own Amber has gone missing. The circumstances are different as are the ages.  My daughter chose to leave her home, chose to put herself into danger and to torment her family with prolonged and suffocating questions of "what if".  The irony taunts me.

I want my daughter to return home.  As each day passes to the next, I cannot help but worry that I may never see her again.  Even when others around me remind me that most teens return home, those words do so little to calm my fears.