I didn’t post a new story last week. It was because I was too busy. I don’t say this flippantly... I’m always too busy to write, which is precisely the excuse I hid behind for years. But that’s not the kind of busy I’m referring to. I was too busy sorting out my feelings. You see, I recently experienced another deep hurt. Old, familiar wounds were torn open and I realized something: I felt abandoned.

My mom, whom I love very much, was leaving my day-to-day life and I had no control over it. Amongst a lot of other choices, she made a very abrupt move across the country. She was a huge part of my support system and now… suddenly... she’s not. It’s very complex when someone you dearly love makes a string of decisions you don’t agree with… and I’m not simply referring to a move.

It would be easy to write her off. Self-preservation kicks in and says “I don’t want to deal with this particular brand of hurt, so I’ll just push her away along with the pain.” I can’t even pass her old neighborhood without crying. I’m still grieving and I’m still dealing with anger.

My emotions seem to override logic. I knew I needed to process how I was feeling. I knew I needed to write. Write to you. After all, writing is how I allowed Jesus to heal me through my divorce. But this was fresh pain. “Current” pain. Current as in: fast moving water. These were not still waters I was navigating. I was tempted to tell you: "All I know is how I feel." But that's not true. My feelings aren't all I know. My feelings assaulted my senses, but they aren't the only thing I know.

I've learned any time my emotions spiral out of control something is out of place in my heart. My heart is a deceptive, selfish little thing… especially when it’s hurting. I know this to be true because feelings change: they can grow, resolve, harden, soften. This is why I think the saying "Follow your heart" is so ridiculous. No! Don't follow something as fickle as your heart! I'm not saying you can't acknowledge your feelings. Their presence shouldn't be denied. I'm just saying we shouldn't make decisions and inner vows based on our feelings.

This past week I struggled with some intense emotions, but mostly abandonment. It feels ridiculous to say I feel abandoned... especially saying I feel abandoned by a parent. I'm grown. Real grown. Closing in on 39 years and I've always been very independent. But here I am: hurt, disappointed, and feeling abandoned. I've been through greater rejection than this many times, but this one cut deep.

My heart strings were being tugged and pulled to the point of becoming untethered. I felt like I was being cut off from someone I loved. That's what abandonment says: "You've been left behind. You obviously don't serve a purpose to them anymore. You're no longer wanted."

I use the term "tether" intentionally. I tether my soul to those I love, so when those soul-ties are broken (especially when someone else breaks them) there's consequential pain. But the truth is I haven't tethered myself to others without firstly securing myself to something much more stable than I. This is the pivotal point where I remind my soul: I'm tethered to the Lord. I’m not the anchor. I never was. What a freeing revelation! Things may feel out of control or off balance for a moment, but I have to remember where my stability comes from. My mom isn't my foundation. Neither is a husband. Or a child. Or a friend. My soul is securely tethered to Jesus. It's not a feeling, it's a fact. And even if I'm never tethered to another person in my life:

1. I'm wanted

2. I'm valued

3. I'm loved and accepted

4. I'm connected to the beautiful Body of Christ

5. I'm the daughter of the Best. Dad. Ever.

You, my darling starling, are not abandoned. Remind your soul Who you’re tethered to. If you have never done so, it’s time: tether yourself to Jesus. He’s the only steadfast anchor. Salvation isn’t about pomp and circumstance. It’s a humble conversation with your Creator: “Jesus, I need you. I believe You died on the cross for my sins and by accepting You as my Savior I’m now eternally connected to the Father. Here’s my rope. Tether me to You. Amen.”