(NLT) “Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more that we might ask or think.”
This verse tells me that God will give us more than we ask for if we trust Him and stand firm in our Faith. Even though my daily prayers were the same prayers as the day before, I feel that God knows our hearts and understands what we need even when we don’t exactly know how to ask or what words to speak. It’s comforting to remember that our Faith acts as a bridge between our desires and divine intervention, allowing us to rely on His wisdom and timing. Each day, as I approach my quiet moments of reflection and prayer, I find solace in the notion that my words, though repetitive, carry a weight of sincerity and hope. I believe God listens not just to our words but to the emotions and intent behind them, patiently awaiting the right moment to respond in ways we might not expect, yet truly need. In this journey of Faith, I have learned the importance of persistence, knowing that sometimes it’s in our unwavering trust that we witness the most profound blessings.
I prayed every single day for my oldest daughter, fervently believing in the power of those whispered words and the spiritual connection they fostered. I asked God to open her eyes because she desperately needed his help and guidance during this tumultuous time in her life. Every heartfelt prayer was a plea for her safety and well-being, a wish for clarity and understanding. I prayed that He would bring her home to me, where love and support awaited her. Some days I prayed multiple times a day, pouring my love and trust in Him to move mountains, hopeful that my devotion would reach her in moments of despair. Even though I was still sending text messages telling her that I love her no matter what or leaving her voicemails inviting her home, I knew this was a bigger mountain that I needed God to move, a monumental challenge that required divine intervention. Those long, drawn-out Summer and Fall months were particularly hard, yet I kept mostly to myself, reflecting on the love I had for my daughter while navigating my emotions. Starting and ending my days with prayers and conversations with God became a necessity, a ritual that brought me comfort and solace in the face of uncertainty. I walked daily, finding peace in the rhythm of my steps, and went to the gym to work off my frustrations, often losing myself in the workout, which allowed me to channel my anxiety into something positive. I was feeling good in my body, and that physical release lent me a sense of emotional stability. I was leaning on the Faith that kept me calm and in my designated lane; it was my lifeline amidst chaos. He kept me grounded, reminding me that my trust in Him would fortify my spirit, and my Faith remained strong, serving as a beacon of hope as I navigated through this challenging chapter of my life.
It was at the end of September, when the leaves began to show their vibrant autumn colors, that I received a phone call from my oldest daughter, inviting me out on a coffee date. Of course, I said yes! However, I still held reservations about her true motives for reaching out. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she might be trying to extract information from me to relay back to her dad, which made me somewhat apprehensive. So, I decided to let her do all the talking, hoping to uncover her true intentions as the conversation evolved. I recognized that the manipulation could potentially run deeper than I had anticipated, prompting me to hold back a little and maintain my guard. The initial part of our conversation flowed impressively well; she complimented me on my recent weight loss, which made me feel proud, and we caught up on shared memories and significant events that had transpired since we last connected. After allowing her ample time to express herself and relive the moments we cherished, I finally steered the conversation toward the important question of why she had chosen this moment to reach out and what had motivated her to want to have coffee and rekindle our mother-daughter relationship. At that time, her response was vague; she offered no definitive answer, simply stating that it was just time—a sentiment I took as a small victory, representing incremental progress in our relationship. I could sense that there was something deeper she wanted to discuss, but I chose not to press her for more details, feeling it was important to simply appreciate the moment we shared without rushing into anything. Following that initial meeting, we made it a point to meet up regularly each week for the next three to four weeks. To my delight, she became increasingly interested in my weight loss journey, exclaiming how proud she was of my accomplishments and expressing a desire to join me on this path. As a result, we began scheduling gym dates in place of our coffee outings, and during this time together, I truly cherished the bond we were rebuilding. I could see the light within me shining brightly, a reflection of the spiritual growth I was experiencing. One day, as we finished a workout, she turned to me and said, “Mom, I can see that you are truly happy; you seem calm and really strong.” Touched by her observation, I responded with sincere gratitude, explaining how I had been putting in a lot of effort into growing my faith with God and fully trusting Him every step of the way, which had transformed my outlook on life and our relationship. In that moment, I suggested Friday night dinners with all four of us girls. A time for us all to reunite our family. Her younger sisters were beyond excited to have their older sister back at the house, joining us in our beloved Friday night traditions before the football games. The evening was filled with laughter and chaos as usual. As the aroma of freshly baked pizza filled the air, we reminisced about past movie nights, sharing stories, creating new memories, and feeling grateful that our family was whole once again, united by the simple joys of good food and quality time.
Through the month of October, we continued our gym and Friday family pizza nights, which had become a comforting routine for us. My oldest daughter had really started opening up about her father, shedding light on her feelings and fears. Over several evenings, she told me some heart-wrenching stories about how life was at his house, filled with tension and uncertainty. She had been witnessing some fighting between her father and his girlfriend, something that no child should have to endure. She confided that their fights had been escalating quickly and occurring more frequently, leaving her feeling anxious and scared. One particular day, before we were about to head into the gym, she looked at me with tear-filled eyes, a mixture of sadness and desperation, and said, “Mom, my eyes are open and I want to come home.” Those words pierced my heart. I looked at her and gently replied, “Then pack your things and come home.” At that moment, she broke down and apologized for everything, as if she felt responsible for the chaos surrounding her. She said her dad had told her that I didn’t love her anymore and that she didn’t have a home with me any longer. The painful weight of those words hung in the air as she cried so hard that day, expressing a longing for stability and the love she felt slipping away from her. It was clear she needed reassurance and support, and I promised her that our home would always be her safe haven, no matter what.
She mentioned that her father had been upset that her and I were rekindling our relationship, which created a palpable tension that hung in the air during our conversations. For that reason, she was no longer to speak my name in his home or talk about our visits, as if uttering my name could provoke a storm of disapproval and discontent. The weight of his expectations loomed large over her, casting a shadow on our renewed connection. This led her to realize that the fear of conflict had begun to overshadow her own feelings, which she had thought were clear-cut. She saw his hatred and revenge towards me, allowing her to see his true character—one not marked by love or understanding, but rather by a troubling mix of control and bitterness. It was evident that the rift between us was being fueled not just by his disdain for me, but also by the internal struggle she faced as she tried to navigate her loyalty to her father and her evolving feelings for me. She was so confused, her brow furrowed in distress, and I could tell his demands were hurting her heart, twisting it in ways she never expected. He was using manipulation and deceit, ensnaring her mind with a web of false promises and empty threats, all in an effort to rewrite my devotion towards her. Every time she glanced my way, I could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, as if his words were slowly erasing the bond we had built together, leaving her vulnerable and fraught with uncertainty. It was heartbreaking to watch, knowing that he was orchestrating this turmoil while pretending to care, all while I stood there, helpless against the tide of his cruel intentions.
In this moment, I knew that God had truly heard my prayers, igniting my heart with a deep sense of hope and gratitude. She repeated the same words that I had asked God to do in my prayers, saying, “Open her eyes, Lord, and bring her home.” Those words resonated within me, affirming the bond that we shared, as if a divine connection had been restored. I went home that morning after our gym session, overwhelmed by emotion, and fell to my knees, thanking Him at His feet for bringing my sweet girl back to her rightful home. I realized that while she had a lot of manipulation to unravel—memories and influences that had clouded her spirit—each day she began to heal, growing stronger and more radiant than the last. I could see, at first, that she was timid, still looking for her father’s words to be true about me, uncertain if she could trust in this newfound safety. But with God’s help, I showed her love in its purest form and the kind of unwavering love that He has taught me to embody. I patiently explained to her that love keeps no record of wrongs (1 Corinthians 13:5) and that no matter what challenges lay ahead, she would always be my child. I assured her that nothing she could do would ever diminish the love I held for her, even in moments of struggle or doubt. In our journey together, we slowly began to cultivate a relationship built on trust, nurturing her spirit and reaffirming that home is not just a place, but a feeling of acceptance and unconditional love.
The love you feel for your children is overwhelming in the most divine way, transcending all boundaries and expectations. Some days it seems impossible to love another human to such an extent that it consumes your very being. The love from a parent to their child is indescribable, a powerful force that transforms every moment into something sacred. To have her home was more than a simple joy; it was a profound blessing and the truest testimony to God’s unwavering faithfulness in our lives. My strength to stand firm with God and stay obedient to trusting Him with my daughter wasn’t easy, but I did it with a gut-level trust that God would do His work in her life and mine. In those moments of doubt and uncertainty, I reminded myself that this love was rooted in something greater—a divine plan woven intricately through our experiences, teaching me patience, resilience, and the purest form of devotion that I could ever imagine.
Walk By Faith Not By sight 