Broken. Heart broken.
How? How can my child shake his fist at God and say, “Do your worst?”
God have mercy.
Without the fear of God his life is spiraling out of control. His hate for me evident in his eyes.
The empty pit in my stomach grows until it reaches the edge of every limb. I just want to wake up and this nightmare to be over.
At some point I start to feel numb. I welcome the relief from the pain.
My husband gently lifts me off my knees – drying my tears. I would that I could stay in constant prayer morning, noon and night until the time that my son would humble himself and repent.
Oh, God – have mercy! God, have mercy.
I’m praying for a God-sized miracle. Oh that my son would not be diabolically opposed to our “moral code”.
No, son. It’s not a moral code – it’s Jesus. Can’t you see? Why are your eyes so blinded to the truth? Son – it’s the path to freedom – not chains.
I’m dry. Every plea has fallen on deaf ears. Every admonition has been shunned. God, I cling to you for strength.
Psalm 18:2 “The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.”
God – I pray for your mercy.
Ex. 34:6-8 “And he passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, 7 maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin.Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished…”