I know you want to take my hand and guide me, to keep me from running too hard or too fast, or to save me from the scrapes and falls that you felt when you journeyed this road. I can hear it in your voice, the pain you know so well, and the fear that I, too, might have to endure the same wounds and live with my own mistakes. Nothing in me doubts that the things you do for me and say to me are out of the depths of your love for me. I know that your heart aches with the heaviness of the pain and burdens that I carry. Not because you carry them too, but because everything in you wishes that you could. This child of yours knows how much you care. Don't doubt that.
You should also know, though, that this child of yours has been raised well. The anchor that you prompted me to invite into my heart so many years ago, is still here. It's quiet now, though, and I often go long periods of time without hearing so much as a whisper. And I'll admit that I sometimes try and forget it, as I let the hours and days and weeks and months slip through my fingers. All this doesn't mean that I have forgotten it, though. I don't think I ever could, it's too much a part of me. What it does mean is that I can no longer sit under your direction and take your words at face value. As close to my heart as you are, you don't speak it's language. No one does. Even if you could, what value would your words hold? If I accepted every bit of wisdom you offered, with no questions or contemplation? This isn't something you can teach me or explain to me. This is my life, my heart, my soul, my responsibility. You can continue to share your wisdom and concerns with me, and please do (Lord knows I need it), but when it's all said and done, this is between me and my maker. I am going to make mistakes, just as I have done already, but I am going to learn from them. I am going to get a little lost along the way, but I am convinced that every moment I spend, lost or on track, knee deep in mud or along a pristine path, will be used for good.
Pray for me, speak to me, slap me if you need to, but remember that you can't make me live any certain way, any more than you can live my life for me. So please be patient with me as I fumble through this period of my life, and don't be discouraged when I stray off the path. Just continue to remind me of the path that my heart will always yearn to take, and that it's always there, no matter how dirty I get.
I love you, with every bit of my sometimes discombobulated heart.
Don't give up on me.
