N8tivegirl

Theme Scripture:

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you;

I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”

— Ezekiel 36:26 (NIV)

The Reflection:

I see you on the same path I once chose.

I watch your life mirror mine —

your walk, your heart, your hurt.

You are becoming who I used to be.

You’ve seen my struggles with love.

But maybe you don’t know my story —

not all of it.

I’m a lot like my momma.

And that’s hard to say out loud.

She didn’t know how to express love.

She loved me the best she knew how.

No one ever taught her the value of a woman.

So I did the best I could with you…

but maybe my best wasn’t whole.

“In my daughter’s eyes, I am a hero.

I am strong and wise and I know no fear…”

— Martina McBride

When I was your age — young, bold, and full of fire —

my momma couldn’t tell me anything.

I judged her because I saw her brokenness,

but I didn’t understand her pain.

Now you look at me the same way.

You love me, but you don’t always respect me.

And that hurts, but I understand it.

Baby girl, life is no fairy tale.

You’ve seen me change relationships,

chasing a little love in all the wrong places.

Something I never really had growing up.

Like my momma, I went from man to man,

thinking love was being chosen —

not realizing love was learning to choose myself.

The Cycle:

She was 18 and married,

19 and a mother,

21 and divorced.

Round and round it went —

the cycle of “I’ll do better next time.”

And I followed right behind her.

What’s sad is,

I never had normal.

You’ve never had normal.

We don’t even know what normal looks like.

We just call it survival.

But deep down… it’s brokenness wearing perfume.

I proclaim to the world that I’m strong,

that I love myself,

but truthfully — I’m still learning how.

The Realization:

I missed so much of my childhood being a parent.

And it’s not your fault,

and it’s not hers either.

It’s just patterned behavior —

a cycle begging to be broken.

And now I watch you walk my path,

and I ache inside.

Should I stop you?

Should I speak?

Or just pray you’ll learn faster than I did?

The Bible says,

“Train up a child in the way she should go…”

but no one trained us in love.

We learned to survive,

not to feel.

When I hear the stories of the woman at the well

and the one with the issue of blood —

I see myself.

Women carrying pain they never asked for,

searching for healing that only Jesus could give.

“It’s hangin’ on when your heart has had enough,

It’s giving more when you feel like giving up.”

Can a mother’s love heal the damage she’s caused?

I don’t know.

But I’m praying it can.

The Prayer:

Lord,

I’ve broken things I can’t fix.

I’ve hurt my daughter in ways I can’t undo.

But I believe in You —

the Healer of hearts,

the Mender of generations.

Let the curse stop with me.

Let love begin again.

Make me a new creation.

Show me how to love myself

so I can love her right.

Restore our family, Lord.

Let our home become a sanctuary,

built on Your foundation.

Be our Father and our Mother,

teach us how to bond,

how to be whole,

how to love without fear.

Jesus, take our broken quilt of memories

and stitch it together with grace.

Let mercy be the thread,

and love be the covering.

Because at the end of it all —

I still see hope,

I still see healing,

I still see You…

in my daughter’s eyes.