When You Feel Walls Going Up... a micro-memoir

A Writing Challenge today from my (in)Couraging Writers Group... a Micro-Memoir.  

"We’re aiming for 700 words or less. A true story. A story that belongs to you. If you link up, we ask you visit the person who linked up ahead of you and try to walk around a bit in their story. Leave a comment, we’re all in this together. Anyone is welcome."  For more info, or to join in, visit Alia Joy's over HERE.


I knew… like how you just know things, for no reason. I knew.  The sunshine and spring air blowing through the sunroof, swirling around my heart – it couldn’t lift the weight of winters’ knowing. 

Cold… frozen… no hope in sight, no stirring of life. 

It was unsettling and left me dizzy and the mindless driving through country roads didn’t ease the pain.  I couldn’t outrun it, and without concrete evidence or explanation – it sowed doubt and fear and an unbelief of something else that I thought I knew.

Before, I (thought I) knew that no matter what else… no matter what new skill, or latest trend, or open door – I knew that I was good at this Mothering thing.   Like – being a Mama came supernaturally.  This is my jam, ya’ll – it’s not just what I do but it’s who I am and it didn’t matter that I only had one, I mothered in everything I did, everywhere I went. This was my call.

I am not an overly confident person and there is not much I claim wholeheartedly, loudly – but this? Well – I did, with this.  

But now, with broken dreams, broken trust, and a future unknown, I began to question it all.  

I had failed.  This one thing that I felt made for… I had failed.

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I mentioned it in passing, a quiet confession that came out more matter-of-fact statement, than the cry for help that it truly was. I had been feeling myself build walls for days.  I could sense the distance widening and it felt just and right and warranted, but what it really was was dangerous, self-protection, greedy.  It was a weak attempt at saving face, when what was really needed was some saving grace. 

I said it with voice trembling, tears spilling over lids that focused low, at nothing at all, blurry.

“I feel walls.  I am building walls. I can’t trust her with my heart.”

His look of fear, of disbelief, screamed ‘Failure’ in my mind, but his embrace silenced it all and wrapped me in a gift of silence.

I will ever be grateful that, next, he safely cupped up my confession and found my eyes… he pushed me, literally, toward her.  He said no.  You have to choose love anyway. Risk it all… again and again and again. This is what it means to be a Mother… you know this. You’ve lived this. Don’t stop now.  He was, to me, the Father heart of God – telling me, reminding me, that no matter what or who was yelling violent accusations in my mind, the truth was louder. Always louder.

Truth is a Person and He is always Love.  He offered me Grace that leaked out once I unclenched my fists; a Love that was not mine – which, on its’ best day can look like failure next to His – which never fails.  That love melted walls, wrapping arms around my Girlie, holding her close.  Forgiveness and Restoration unfold slow… a rebuilding of Trust requires time and space and air and sky. Walls never truly protect, they only lock you in.  

I held her close, rocking gently with the rhythm of our sobs… we lay broken and healing, all at the same time, as the sun shine pierced its’ way through the curtains and warmth was felt all the way through. A melting of Winters’ doubt.

We’re gonna be alright.  We will not just survive this thing – we will overcome it… we will stand taller, stronger, closer because of it.  

Today… a year or so later, I can tell you that I am a better Mother having felt those walls of protection rise, but having decided to partner with Him to tear them down and love anyway.

Now – when we preach “Speak Life. Be Love. Shine On.” – they are not just words strung together. No, now they are our life, our family, lived out loud – healed and whole, and offering hope.

I learned to let go of perfection, wanting everything to go the way I wanted it. Instead I lean in and trust Him at His word that He really CAN work all things together for our good… that He really DOES make beautiful things out of us!