Here I am alone in my room, preventing every sob, the main goal is to whine unnoticed.
Sometimes I wondered if I ever wanted to be in this place again.
I am demanded to be home every weekend, and everytime, I know I go home with the greatest possibility of getting hurt. But with the highest hope that they finally see my love for Jesus.
But, today is just the same weekend
Today, I can no longer contain the pain. I have to cry it all out to God. I cannot talk back to my parents as my way of saying that I love them. In return, I absorb every discouragment and stinging words that comes from their very mouth. "I love them Father, and I love You, I have to bear this", I pray.
I have to hide myself to protect my heart from bursting out. "You don't love God, you just go to that church to be considered as one of the "in" crowd", that was the words I last heard from my father. And what stabs me so hard is the fact that he told me its how my aunt also thinks about me. The aunt that goes to the same church. The aunt that was supposed to help me plant understanding in them. I never felt so left behind. The family that I prayed for everyday of my life. The same family that questioned my love for my Saviour. From the start, I didn't expect them to understand my faith. Religion is a very big deal for them. But it hurts so much to hear them say that they could not see any sincerity from me.
Every time someone asks me about my prayer requests, it has always been my family first. How joyful will be the day to see them pray with me. But now at this very moment, the doors are still closed.
Father,
I am asking as the daughter of my papa and as the child that my mama brought out into this world, please open their hearts and let me in. To be deeply hurt and judged is bearable. But to see the end days without sharing to them the joy I have with You is something I could not endure.
When Jesus told his disciples to have courage and rebuke the spirit of fear in matthew 8, He also told me to go home to my parents as often as I can and have the courage to bear the pain. Not to be afraid of getting hurt, and soon enough I will see His work in them.
Sometimes I wondered if I ever wanted to be in this place again.
I am demanded to be home every weekend, and everytime, I know I go home with the greatest possibility of getting hurt. But with the highest hope that they finally see my love for Jesus.
But, today is just the same weekend
Today, I can no longer contain the pain. I have to cry it all out to God. I cannot talk back to my parents as my way of saying that I love them. In return, I absorb every discouragment and stinging words that comes from their very mouth. "I love them Father, and I love You, I have to bear this", I pray.
I have to hide myself to protect my heart from bursting out. "You don't love God, you just go to that church to be considered as one of the "in" crowd", that was the words I last heard from my father. And what stabs me so hard is the fact that he told me its how my aunt also thinks about me. The aunt that goes to the same church. The aunt that was supposed to help me plant understanding in them. I never felt so left behind. The family that I prayed for everyday of my life. The same family that questioned my love for my Saviour. From the start, I didn't expect them to understand my faith. Religion is a very big deal for them. But it hurts so much to hear them say that they could not see any sincerity from me.
Every time someone asks me about my prayer requests, it has always been my family first. How joyful will be the day to see them pray with me. But now at this very moment, the doors are still closed.
Father,
I am asking as the daughter of my papa and as the child that my mama brought out into this world, please open their hearts and let me in. To be deeply hurt and judged is bearable. But to see the end days without sharing to them the joy I have with You is something I could not endure.
When Jesus told his disciples to have courage and rebuke the spirit of fear in matthew 8, He also told me to go home to my parents as often as I can and have the courage to bear the pain. Not to be afraid of getting hurt, and soon enough I will see His work in them.
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