From Prodigal to Held, a Diary of Hurt and Hope

By Lucy B. Adams

This book is her journey from the time her daughter left her home in 2014 until the present date. Five years of estrangement, her fears, her sorrow, and her transformation from a Prodigal Child to a woman held in faith.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781728337593

Lucy B. Adams

Lucy B. Adams raised her only child as a single mom from the time her daughter was 9. She believed they were like the “Gilmore Girls” from the popular TV series. She never imagined she would become a mother who is estranged from her child. She began writing a blog to heal from the estrangement which she then believed would encourage other parents in the same situation. She is still waiting for her daughter to return home.

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© 2020 Lucy B. Adams. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 4/24/2020

ISBN: 978-1-7283-3789-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-3759-3 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Contents

Prologue

Background

December 18, 2014—The Loss of a Child

January 24, 2015—Broken

January 27, 2015—Missing the Missing

January 31, 2015—Answered Prayers, Listening, and Forgiveness

February 6, 2015—Greater Is the One

February 16, 2015—Psalms and Sadness

February 17, 2015—Loving and Moving Forward

February 20, 2015—Keeping the Joy during the Sad Times … or as I Like to Call Them, Blessings

March 5, 2015—Words Can Break Us Down; Words Can Build Us Up!

March 21, 2015—Guarded. Grounded, and Gearing Up!

March 27, 2015—Because He Lives (Amen)

March 29, 2015—Resurrection Eggs and Four-Year-Olds

April 5, 2015—What Was God Thinking?

April 16, 2015—On My Knees

May 7, 2015—The Prodigal Mother’s Day

May 14, 2015—Held

June 1, 2015—Battle for Peace

June 20, 2015—At His Feet

July 15, 2015—Worthy, Flawless, Love

July 29, 2015—In Him

August 1, 2015—The Estranged Daughter Is Getting Married

August 20, 2015—A Memo to the Women Who Believe They Can Take My Place

September 7, 2015—Owning My Anger

September 21, 2015—I Surrender All

October 3, 2015—My Freeway Table Group

October 13, 2015—Finding Home

November 11, 2015—There Is a War between Guilt and Grace

November 15, 2015—Love

November 25, 2015—Giving Thanks

December 3, 2015—Heartbeats

December 5, 2015—Sisters in Love

December 20, 2015—Anniversary and Faith

December 22, 2015—Digging Deep

December 25, 2016—What Did Mary Know?

January 6, 2016—Thank God for Redemption

January 8, 2016—Christmas Day and Love

February 5, 2016—Not Broken with C. S. Lewis

February 12, 2016—I’ll Stand Here

April 7, 2016—The Communication of Hearts

July 12, 2016—Two-Way Street to a Wedding

September 4, 2016—Thy Will

October 30, 2016—Mission Trip to the Dominican Republic

December 31, 2016—What a Difference a Year Makes!

Epilogue

Resources

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This book is

dedicated to God, who gave me new life in Him. It is also for His angels on earth who helped me pull myself together through the estrangement of my daughter not once but twice. The hand of God was working specifically through those who walked with me, and continue to walk with me, during this excruciating time. You are inscribed upon my heart, and I am eternally grateful and thankful for each of you, my sisters and brothers in Christ. Without your loving support, cheerleading, prayers, gluten-free junk food, sitting with me while the tears flowed, and all the truth you spoke in love, I would not be the woman I am today. Thank you for walking the walk and talking the talk, and for never making me feel alone.

To my dear friend Lisa and her husband and my former boss, Rodney. Thank you does not encompass the feelings I have for you both. From the office talks to beach trips and hard conversations that helped me see my worth, I love you both and am blessed to call you family.

To my sweet friends Diane and Greg. Thanks for always being a part of my life for over twenty years. I love you both, and you have helped me in ways I’ll never be able to convey.

To Melanie, who is no longer a part of my life, lived with me and saw the pain of Aurora’s first departure, and showed me I can be loved but it had to be by the right person at the right time. Thank you for loving me when I didn’t love myself, and for standing by me even though it was painful to you.

To Carol, who has been my friend since 1991 and knows my life and heart better than I do at times. Thank you for all your encouragement, cards, brunches, and conversations. I love you and your family, and your tenacity and humor have sustained me on the hardest of days.

To the DC Chicks, Gary Napier, and the Entire Wednesday Night Table Group. You taught me that God loves us, and we must love ourselves to be able to walk the walk and talk to the talk.

To Kailey Adams. Thank you for being my first editor. Thank you for showing me that single moms can make mistakes and still have their children love and respect them. You are a breath of fresh air every day.

To my parents, Steve and Pam, and my sister, Debbie. Thank you for accepting me back into the family and loving me for who I was, who I am, and who I am becoming. You three mean so much to me, and I love our lives and where God is taking all of us.

To my husband, David. Thank you for picking up my cross and walking with me. Your hugs, smiles, words of wisdom, and never-ending devotion to Christ (and to me) have been my miracle on earth. No one loves and accepts me as you do. Thank you for loving who I am and not dwelling on who I was before I fully understood who Christ is and what He has done for the world. I am forgiven and chosen, and you remind of that, especially on the hard days. You were a great stepfather, father-in-law, and papa who loved unconditionally and spoke truth in love.

You are those who have stood by me in my trials. (Luke 22:28)

And to my daughter, Aurora, who chose to walk away because I was not who you needed or wanted, and who had to endure the down times of my life. I love you more than you could ever imagine. You once told me that as a mom, you cannot believe I would write a book that makes her child look like a monster. My precious, precious child, if you ever read this book, you will see this book is not about you at all. It’s about your mother finding her way back to life, and it was in your leaving the first time that I was able to find myself and seek my way back to the God who loves me. You once took me outside, spread a blanket on the ground, and told me to look at the stars and remember if God can take care of those stars in the sky, He would take care of me. That moment of love is forever engraved on my heart. It’s one of those rare moments I remember you loved me.

I cannot express how incredibly sorry for all the pain my life has caused you, and as you age and raise your children, you will find all parents make mistakes, and all parents do things in life that hurt their children’s feelings, but they are not done with malice or intent. Parents do the best they can at the time and love unconditionally, as I did, and I will always love you unconditionally. Grumpiness on parents’ part does not mean we don’t love our children. As I apologized to you many times for my grumpy or angry moments, I hope you someday remember the happy moments we shared … As your father abandoned you, his father abandoned him, and as you abandoned me, I hope your children break the cycle of estrangement. I never want you to feel the broken heart of a mother being childless. I love you, Aurora. You always have been and always will be my hero. I long to hear your voice, see your smile, and hug you. I will always be waiting for you to come home.

To my grandchildren, Owen and Katherine. I hope someday you will know your Mimsey, her heart, and all her mistakes that made her stronger and full of hope for her entire family to be united. You are loved and adored.

The key is to have a forgiving spirit and realize all people, even parents, are human.

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Prologue

The story I am about to tell is not intended to shame or hurt anyone involved. It’s my story, my truth. It’s my path to becoming the prodigal daughter who eventually, through trials and heartache, returned to my heavenly Father to be chosen and held. In turn, I long for my own daughter to return to me. During the writing of this diary, I had no one to lean on, really, who had experienced exactly what I was going through. However, I learned through the second season of my storm that other parents also had children who had turned their backs and walked away without so much as a goodbye. It’s incredibly heartbreaking when all communication is exterminated from the one to whom you give birth. I never claimed to be the perfect parent, or the perfect daughter for my own parents. Parenthood doesn’t come with an instruction manual, and all parents do the best we can.

What I’ve learned through lots of therapy is that everyone—yes, every single person who walks the planet we call home—enters adulthood with scars from childhood. What bothers us about our childhood leads to overcompensating during adulthood and through our own parenting. Being the parent we needed to our own children is probably not what they need and therefore can lead to estrangement.

I lost my earthly family through the first estrangement, but I learned so much about myself because I allowed myself to think and feel on my own. There was no pressure from anyone to tell me how I felt or what to think about situations. In a sense, the first estrangement was a story of hope for my family to reconcile and be a whole family. We must renew our spirit when we have given up. We must pursue courage to continue to wake up every morning and shed the covers when we want to snuggle down into the shame we feel. I am very thankful and grateful to those listed on the dedication page of this book; they kept me going and wouldn’t let me give up! They encouraged me to find myself first and find my way back to God, and eventually they believed my daughter would find her way home, and our relationship would be reconciled.

When I first thought about publishing this book, it was after my daughter had called after an estrangement of one year, three months, nineteen days, and five hours. I can remember sitting in our home office and seeing my daughter’s boyfriend’s number pop up on my phone. My husband was at Bible study, and I couldn’t answer. I called him and told him Luke was calling, and he immediately came home from Bible study. We answered the phone together, and it was pure heaven to me. I kept crying and telling her, I cannot change the past, and I’m sorry for how I hurt you, but I can make our future better. I asked why she had decided to call me after all this time, and she said she had read my blog (the bulk of this book). In her reading, she felt I had changed and wanted to give our relationship a try again. We agreed to meet for coffee and seeing her face after all that time was pure joy for me.

However, all good things must come to an end, and unfortunately, after just shy of two years, my daughter again told me she did not want me to be a part of her life. The book I was writing made her look like a monster, and she could not believe any mother would present her child in this way. Now that her son was getting older, she didn’t want me to speak ill of her and turn her child against her. To her, my Christianity was a lie, my marriage was a lie, and my entire being was a lie. She stated unless I came clean and told everyone the truth about our lives, she could no longer be a part of my life. So I did just that. I made a post on Facebook, which is the most public forum I can think of, and stated that everything that had transpired between her and me was completely my fault. I was a horrible mother and a horrible person, and I asked everyone to forgive me for being such a worthless piece of human flesh. That public statement did not change a thing, and now it was been exactly one year, eight months, five days, and twenty-three hours to the day since I have seen or talked to her.

So how does estrangement from a child affect a mother’s psyche? For me, I called a psychologist and took every test available to see what kind of mental illness I must be suffering from. I was tested for bipolar disorder, multiple personality disorder, narcissism, and schizophrenia. The conclusion? I am suffering from severe depression. I could have answered that question without spending five hundred dollars a pop (I took these tests four times), but that’s okay. Now I have released myself from being mentally ill, but that begs the question, If you are not mentally ill, why did your daughter leave? What abuse did you bestow upon her to make her leave? These are questions I have continuously asked myself for the past five years.

If you are reading this book, I am guessing you are in a similar situation. Let me start by saying I am extremely sorry for your estrangement, and I hope my journey brings a little bit of peace as you start your own journey of hope of reconciliation, or you began to release yourself from what seems to be a trend of children today to accuse, attack, and then to cut all ties from the people who want the best for them and would walk through fire to have them back.

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Background

I guess I should start with my own childhood. I grew up in the shadow of perfection (or so I thought), a sister with perfectly straight teeth and a head full of hair like Julia Roberts. She was petite with fair skin and dark hair, and she was everyone’s dream child. Quiet. Girlie. Didn’t make messes. My parents often tease the doctor could hear me crying before I even popped out! I wouldn’t eat anything but bananas for the first two years of life, and I had naturally straight hair and a mouth full of wire at sixteen, not to mention I was taller and chunkier than my sister.

I do not, nor did I ever, begrudge my sister her perfection. I wanted to be her many times. My failings are not her fault, and I’ve never blamed her for my shortcomings; I was who God made me. Where she was calm, I had a temper, felt misunderstood, and didn’t really know how to convey my thoughts and feelings. My own faults and self-doubt led to an eating disorder that started when I was sixteen and followed me well into my thirties.

I accepted Christ into my heart when I was ten and twenty, but I’m not sure I did it for all the right reasons. Maybe at the time, I knew Christ was my savior and wanted to follow Him, and I believe Christ recognized my heart at the time. All my life, I read my Bible, taught Sunday school, and helped lead a children’s choir. I read Christian books written by Christian authors and truly believed I was doing all God wanted me to do. Me and God. God and Me. This was something I thought daily. We were one, me and Him.

In 1995, I delivered via C-section a beautiful baby girl. She was and always has been the joy of my life. She could make me smile by her presence, her smile, and her funny way of saying words like tefealone for telephone, or culculator for calculator. Every summer after junior high, we would watch the entire ten seasons of the show Friends. We loved to watch musicals like Chicago, Mamma Mia, and Rent, as well as Disney movies. One of our favorite nights was movies and Krispy Kreme donut runs in our pajamas. She could devour two or three donuts before we got home with the dozen, and I would often tease her as she ate them. The look on her face would make me chuckle, and we would listen to music while I drove and she devoured.

It wasn’t always fun and games like when she received a cancer diagnosis. She was diagnosed with leukemia just after Christmas of her third year on earth. Thankfully, she survived, and the whole cancer experience changed my life in one way. It made me even more thankful for her life, and her perspective on life always amazed me. During this time, I became her biggest cheerleader and an advocate for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Five years after her diagnosis, I divorced her father, which changed my life in good and bad ways. But nothing, and I do mean nothing, we experienced could have prepared me for when she (in my words) ran away. In her words, I left because of a difficult roommate you had, and her daughters who were driving me crazy. I consider it running away because for one year, three months, nineteen days, and five hours, there was absolutely no communication between her and me. I had message takers, but nothing about her life was ever conveyed back to me. (I’ve since learned the silence from family members who see your child on a regular basis contributes to isolation of the estranged parent.)

At the time, did I see this as a God thing and as an opportunity to take me away from some sin patterns in my life? Nope. But now, looking back, I see where God was heavily at work in my life to give me the love I had always dreamed of, both in friends, in family, and in a husband.

Again, I reiterate, this book is not intended to make anyone feel bad about their parenting skills or their sin patterns. It is about me, really—how I ended up there and arrived here. I guess this is also a source of contention for my daughter, because it is talking about me, which conveys narcissism. And I can accept that.