My beautiful son, the "pride and joy" (I carried a card that said you're my pride and joy and it showed a picture of pride lemon oil and joy dishwashing detergent) of my life. I was so blessed to be your mom and still am. I have observed you grow with all the watchfulness of a mom and prayed daily for your heart. I have used the tools of "Women Who Wear Army Boots" and have daily bound and loosed wrong and right spirits in our home. I have taught you the Bible and you
have placed scriptures in your heart. I have placed oil on the doorposts of our home and prayed throughout our house. I have been diligent and vigilant against evil. I would not let you watch many things on TV nor play certain games because of their violence and filth. I heard you tell your friends you couldn't play their game because it wasn't right...and you had no idea I was anywhere around.
But my beautiful, talented son, somewhere I did something wrong. Maybe it was when your dad died, and I spent the next few years trying to comfort you and make you happy instead of guiding you in the paths you should take. Maybe I worked too long hours trying to make a living when I should have been home with you. I should have always had us eat at the table even if it was just you and me. I shouldn't have let you grow your hair out. I should have been more careful with your music. I shouldn't have given in to what you wanted in an attempt to bring you out of your depression. I should have been stricter in your teen age years. I should have watched out for your friends. I should have done so many things differently.
I didn't, and now the God I love with every fiber of my being is foreign to you. You say His name with hate and call Him a myth. You grovel in the depths of degradation and delight in shock factor. You blame my God for all the wrong in your life. You have no idea of His strength and power and how it feels to love...love...love...Him. You no longer feel His warmth, and He doesn't live in your heart. Oh my son, I am broken beyond ALL words. Sometimes the torment is UNBEARABLE when I see your actions in the life you are walking. I pray hundreds of times during the day. Hundreds. I want you to love God, to honor Him, to walk in His strength and power, to be forgiven, to BELIEVE. You are not alone my son, in this darkness you crave. Your mother is praying.
