Jeremiah 31:3: “I have loved you with an everlasting love”

Meaning: God reaches toward his people with kindness motivated by deep and everlasting love. He is eager to do the best for them if they will only let him. After many words of warning about sin, this reminder of God’s magnificent love gave them a breath of fresh air. Rather than thinking of God with dread, look carefully and see him lovingly drawing us toward himself.

Reflection: What lies did I grow up believing about myself? – And the Truth I’m Learning

Part One: The Lies That Raised Me

Some kids grow up believing in tooth fairies and superheroes. I grew up believing in lies.

Lies that were planted in me before my memories were even strong enough to hold themselves together. Lies that shaped the way I saw myself, the way I moved through the world, and the way I let people treat me.

From as young as I can remember, I felt different. Not cute little quirky different — but the kind of different that makes you feel like you’re standing in a crowded room with a spotlight on every flaw you’ve ever carried.

And I know now why. Because trauma set the tone of my childhood before I even knew the word “trauma.”

I grew up believing I wasn’t wanted. That I wasn’t chosen. That I wasn’t worth anyone’s time — especially not my parents’. They were consumed by their addictions, and careers and their absence taught me a lie that burrowed deep: “You’re not important enough to stay sober for.”

And then came the cruelest lie of them all: “You caused this.”

I believed I caused the alcoholism. I believed I caused the chaos. I believed I was the reason love never stayed.

When my mom died while I was still a kid, that lie swallowed me whole. The enemy told me, “If you had stayed home, she wouldn’t have died.” And I believed that — for thirteen long years — because guilt speaks louder when nobody is there to correct it., and nobody did because I never told anybody the lie the enemy was whispering in my ear.

When I hit my teenage years, the lies morphed into behaviors. I acted out — drinking, sneaking out, sex, drugs — not because I was wild, but because I didn’t think I deserved better, and I didn’t believe anybody really cared, because how does a teenager do all these things unless they have adults that didn’t really care.

My dad reinforced every insecurity. Every slap. Every insult. Every time he called me a bitch or told me no man would ever want me… another lie took root:

“He’s right about you. You are broken. You are too much. You are not worth loving.”

And so I believed what he believed. I believed I deserved the beatings. I believed I was damaged goods. I believed men only wanted me if I gave myself away. I believed I wasn’t friend material. I believed drugs were the only thing strong enough to quiet the pain.

But the lie that still tries to sink its claws into me — even now — is this:

“You don’t deserve sobriety. You can’t stay sober. You don’t deserve your kids.”

Those lies were my foundation. Those lies raised me. Those lies shaped the girl and woman I used to be.

But they are not the woman I am becoming.

XOXO, THE HEALING WILDFLOWER