Sarah Mae - The Complicated Heart: Loving Even When It Hurts

Copyright 2019 by Sarah Mae Hoover

All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America

978-1-4627-9698-4

Published by B&H Publishing Group Nashville, Tennessee

Dewey Decimal Classification: 306.874

Subject Heading: MOTHER-DAUGHTER RELATIONSHIP / PAIN / FORGIVENESS

Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture is taken from the English Standard Version. ESV Text Edition: 2016. Copyright 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

Also used: New International Version ( niv ), copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Cover illustration Adriana Badoi, Thistle , Courtesy Saatchi Art. Author photo Rebekah Viola Stoltzfus.

Published in association with D.C. Jacobson & Associates, LLC, an Author Management Company, www.dcjacobson.com.

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Dedicated to my mom, Susan Lynn Sherman Potts

8/9/53 4/23/16

And to all the brokenhearted daughters who dare to hope.

Authors Note

These words reflect memories, and sometimes our memories are only true to us, but not perfectly true in reality.

I have tried to remember well, ask when I couldnt piece it all together, and sew up the pieces as best I could for the fullness of this testimony. Where I have gone wrong or where there is a tear or a string loose, I apologize. I have been as faithful as possible.

Some names have been changed for privacy reasons.

She broke me. But He found me. And after He bound up my wounds He taught me how to love her.Because she was broken too.

I waited patiently for the L ord ;he inclined to me and heard my cry.He drew me up from the pit of destruction,out of the miry bog,and set my feet upon a rock,making my steps secure.He put a new song in my mouth,a song of praise to our God.Many will see and fear,and put their trust in the L ord .

(Ps. 40:13)

People Always Ask...

People always ask me how I forgave my mother.

How do you forgive someone who wounded you so deeply, who carelessly brushed aside your pain, who caused such destruction? And even more specifically, how do you forgive them when your wounds are still open, when they show no remorse, when you are so dang tangled up with them youre not sure how on earth to get untangled? How do you maintain a relationship with a toxic person? How do you not run for the hills, sayonara , peace out?

If you should run, how do you know when or how ? How do you love your enemy when that enemy is your own mother or father or sibling or spouse? How do you get your emotional junk together so you can put a stop to the unhealthy patterns, behaviors, and habits you feel stuck in? Is it possible to get to the point where the pain no longer consumes you? And is there joy and victory in the midst of loss and unmet needs?

These are the questions Ive sat next to, held, and walked with since I was fourteen years oldthe year I moved in with my mom, the year I discovered that my mom was an alcoholic. This book is the answer to those questions, and even more specifically, its what happened between the ages of fourteen and thirty-six.

You will experience my story with me , seeing through my eyes and hearing through my ears and perching on the ledge of my thoughts. You will also be able to peek behind the curtain into the heart of my mom through her journal entries and letters, which are at the end of many chapter. They give my mom a voice in this story.

The journal entries are not in order; Ive just fit them in where I think it gives context to our intertwining lives. It is a rare gift to be able to trace a life, to see what makes us fall and what makes us stand again.

This is our story, the story of Mom and me, but its also your story, and how even in great darkness light finds a way in, comforts us when we cant see, and leads us out into the fullness of day where redemption and freedom and healing are waiting for us. There is victory and hope and joy despite the pain .

Now, I know some of you reading this right now are in the dark. You think there is no way out, no way things could change, no way your tender heart could heal. Further, the very thought of forgiving and loving the person who hurt you the most sounds impossible. Some of you reading this right now are just sad sad at what you missed out on, for what was taken from you, for the unfairness of it all. Your little-girl heart just wants to be loved by the person who was supposed to love you. Its a deep and often private ache, I know. Some of you have decided that to hope is just to hurt, and so youve placed hope in the attic, letting it collect dust, only holding onto it because you havent wanted to bother with it. Hope is dangerous, and its best kept tucked away.

Its for you I write this story.

For all of us, for all the torn-up and sad and ticked-off daughters, and the broken-hearted and the wounded ones just trying to figure a way through the mess.

Im asking you to let hope sit in the same room with you while you read this book. You dont have to touch it yet. Just hang on to these truths for now: There are miracles and surprises and gifts even in the middle of the pain and the mess and complication of it all.

Dysfunction does not have to be your legacy. You may have been born into it, married into it, or created it yourself, but it does not have to be your destiny or your identity.

Victory is always on the table.

One Last, Very Important Thing

There is some graphic content in this book (not appropriate for children), and you may experience triggersthings that you read that may bring up painful memories or images. Because of this, heres what Id like you to do before you slip into the story:

Evaluate. Assess your current emotional health and your age appropriateness, and decide if your heart is ready to embark on this type of material.

Pray. Pray for a willing and vulnerable heart; for protection over your heart, mind, and body; for eyes to see what God wants to reveal to you; and that His voice would be louder than the liars voice.

Submit. Submit your heart to the Lord, or if you dont know Him, submit your heart to humbly receiving what He might have for you through this story.

Here we go.

Moms Journal | Date unknown

I wish part of my purpose would be to write, to give something to others through my writing. God is just waiting for the right time for me to begin my new life...

Chapter 1

I Dare You

Sarah, age fourteen, Bowdon, GA, 1994

My fingers trace the shape of the cheap, pink Daisy razor sitting on the side of the tub. I wonder, Can you slit your wrists with a cheap razor?

Goose bumps form on my arms. My foot reaches up and turns the handle of the faucet, pushing it all the way to the red line, but only a cool stream comes out. I hear the scooping of ice cubes and the sound of them hitting her glass. The vodka comes next. My insides tighten and the feeling of steel moves up my shoulders and down my arms.

Her words from earlier loop in my brain. I drink, so what, you need to get over it.

So what.

Get over it.

I feel it again, the fire thats trapped under my skin, that burns through my body; I dont know how to get it out of me. I look at the razor again. Could I do itcould I slice the life out of myself? How much would it hurt? How much would it hurt her? My mind drifts off into a fantasy where Mom finds me limp and blue and slouched in red water. She realizes what shes done, how much shes destroyed, and she tries to wake me up but its too late. Now her insides burn.