Unconditional Love

My mother and I had a contentious relationship while I was growing up.  I was a great disappointment to her, and she was quick to let me know that.  When I was 19, it came to a head and I was told to leave.  I did.  We then went almost 10 years without speaking.  Literally not a word, not a bit of communication, nothing.  When I was 29, we attempted a reconciliation but it was strained and awkward and didn't last but maybe a year before she told me she was right the first time and that I was more trouble than I was worth.  I didn't add enough to her life to make a relationship with me to be worth her while, and she thought it best if we resumed the non-relationship we had before.  I am now 49, so it's been 20 years since I've laid eyes on my mother or heard her voice or had any communication, at all, with her.  Every so often, I google her name with the word "obituary" just to make sure she hasn't died, but that's it.  That's the relationship we have. 

I say this, not to point fingers or cast blame or garner sympathy or pity.  I actually go months, even years, without really thinking about the bizarreness that is our relationship.  I've had 30 years of this, so it seems almost normal by now.  

Last week I, as no doubt have you, heard about a 15 year old boy in Florida named Davion Only.  He was born when his mother was in prison and he has spent his whole life in foster care.  About a year ago, he googled his mothers name and found out she had died in prison.  (That part stopped me cold -- other people use Google to see if their mother is dead?) He then decided to change his life.  The dream he had of his mother getting off drugs, getting out of prison, getting him out of foster care and finally being a family was over. He got serious about school, got serious about his health, took control of his emotions and his behavior and changed his life.

He then went to a church in Florida, stood before the congregation and said, "My name is Davion, and I’ve been in foster care since I was born. ... I know God hasn’t given up on me. So I’m not giving up either."  He asked to be adopted. The story, if you don't know it, will break your heart.  All he wants is someone to love him, forever and unconditionally.

http://abcnews.go.com/US/florida-orphan-davion-pleads-family-love-die/t/story?id=20601005&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2F

I heard about his story, and I wept.  I literally broke down.  How sad, how pitiful, how terrible, that this precious child is so desperate for a family, for someone to love him.  I was lucky, in that while my mother didn't want me, I had someone who did.  I had someone who married me, gave me his name and his family and then, eventually, a family of our own.  I was, hands down, in a better place than Davion is now.  

But on another level, Davion and I are the same. Davion is all of us, for we all want someone to love us, forever and unconditionally.  Most people have that in their parents.  I hope and pray that my children know that unconditional love from me. My heart aches for Davion, though.  I want to wrap my arms around him and whisper to him that I love him, that God loves him and that he is a valued and precious soul.  He is worthy of love and deserves that unconditional, forever acceptance and security.

I am 49 years old, and my heart still aches from the knowledge that my mother -- the one person who is supposed to love me unconditionally -- found me more trouble than I was worth and that she could let 30 years (and two perfect grandchildren) slip out of her life so casually. I struggled (struggle -- present tense!) with the concept of God's unconditional love for me.  There must be something fundamentally and intrinsically wrong with me if my own mother could toss me aside so effortlessly.  Surely God will, one day, find the flaw in me that makes me unlovable. 

My heart breaks to think that Davion aches to find that same acceptance and unconditional love.  It is a universal human need, and it is so vital and important that the scars from not having it can last a lifetime.

So far, there have been thousands of inquiries about Davion.   He will find his forever home.  I found mine.  But what about all the other wounded souls who don't know they are loved?  

I have no answers. I have tears of empathy, and I have compassion and understanding and I have a heart that aches -- but what to DO with that?  What do we do for all the Davions (and the Sandras) who don't have a mothers love?

I'm praying on it.  Maybe out of Davion's courage and bravery, things will change, not just for him but for ALL the Davions out there.