I went to a conference called “Free to be Me” with Jo Naughton. I really had no expectations because I felt as though I were free. I mean Christ had set me free! I am born again, all things past away, and I have been made new. Ordained as a Pastor just a week prior, I had laid my life down, quit my job, started an outreach ministry a year ago. But there was one thing that could break me every time I thought about it or someone spoke about her. …My mom….

I had already done the whole healing process within the world of Christianity, but had never experienced the power of love over the past. Let me explain a bit more. I knew the scriptures, studied them, spoke them out loud over my life, went to many healing conferences, rebuked, cast out, surrendered, I had done it all, but it never took the pain away from remembering her.

The lead speaker, Jo, was amazing, she had a gentle way about her, meek yet strong, as a matter of fact, her whole team carried that same anointing; gentle, meek yet strong. When I sat in the front row and she started talking about mom’s. I thought to myself, “I don’t want to do this.” She made her way in front of me and touched my heart with her hand. I kept my notebook clinched tight between my fingers against my chest, she gently removed it and placed her hand on my heart. Her words, “it was never meant to be that way. She wasn’t suppose to abandon and neglect you.” I wept…. she leaned in, wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tight as if to break the ground of my hardened heart.

As she stood to her feet, and walked away. I could no longer hear the sound of her voice, although I knew she was still speaking. I knew that if I meditated on my mom for too long I would cry. So, I had spent years not thinking of her, because every time I did people would hold me accountable for my pain. So it was just easier to not to.

It was not my intention to have a personal encounter with Jo that day, but it was God's

Half way through the day, I removed myself from the front row and sat in the back, restless, up and down for most of the afternoon, taking notes when compelled to. I had flipped the switch, lights out on a very painful past. So many years I've felt like it's better not to go there. Not to remember the pain and not to remember her. It hurt too much to think of her. I could love her from a safe place, my mom.
After the event, I couldn’t wait to leave. I asked a lead pastor if they needed me anymore or the key to the janitors closet. I had been given the task of opening it for the team to clean up after the conference, but didn’t think they needed it anymore. So, we left. My friend had her own encounter and was so emotional about what had happened to her. She shared, I listened and spoke little, which is rare for me.

We were finishing up our dinner when the phone rang and I was notified we needed to return to the church, I had the only key to the janitors closet. When I shared this with my friend, she said, I knew we would be returning but didn’t know how God would call us back there. Earlier, she had a vision that we would be helping with the clean-up. So she was on board to return with me.

We finished up the fellowship hall and I went to the sanctuary to see what else I could do to help. I stood behind the last row of seats and Jo floated towards me as if on a cloud. Her eyes were gentle and once locked into mine I couldn't look away. I can't remember exactly what she said in those moments, because what she was saying, was actually, playing out like a movie, in my mind.

As she was speaking, I could feel the distant hollow of emotionless-ness veil my heart. When I got close to feeling something, the lights would go out and my eyes would glaze over. But her words would continue, the gentleness of her voice stepping through the concrete walls of my heart reached for the switch and turned them back on. As if she were saying it's okay, open your eyes. The light doesn't hurt, it exposes the truth. And the truth is good.

Overwhelmed at the permission I received to actually “feel” something, anything, The words “SHE LEFT ME, SHE LEFT ME, SHE LEFT ME” escaped from the prison cells within my heart. The very places I refused to look at. I had locked them away and threw away the key.…with my final breath, I said, “SHE LEFT ME AND THEY HURT ME!”

I've spent years trying to teach my children these words, "the truth is always better no matter what the truth is." Even if it hurts, it's better. Even if we're wrong, it's better, because we can perceive the truth but a lie is hidden and we can't do anything about a lie.”

I came home to an empty house which is very rare. My family had packed up to go to Sanibel Island to watch the sunset. There was a part of me that was relieved. I was still overwhelmed by what I had just experienced and I needed some alone time.

I got in the shower and wept. Once again I found myself bent over, the tears like great rivers flowing from my eyes, the dam had broken, the gushing waters screamed from my lips " SHE WAS A GOOD MOM, SHE WAS A GOOD MOM.

I had spent years saying my mom was a good mom, she just had a terrible addiction. I kept repeating those words until they stopped and the truth finally surfaced. As the raging waters calmed, peace came over me, and I accepted the truth. The truth is I wanted a good mom. I wanted her to be a good mom and the real truth is, she hurt me.

This year the Lord's word for me is My Victory His Glory! This is part of that process….

I woke up the following morning with the parable of the wheat and tares and although Jesus unwraps the scripture as meaning individual people at end times. Could I suggest, in my very own parable, the end times represents the end of myself, and my pain.

He is showing me He sent the "harvesters to remove the tares from my heart" I can break this down to make it clearer but its best summarized by something Jo said to me that I'll never forget… She said "whatever space pain takes up inside my heart is a space I cannot love others with" and there it went, the switch forever in the on position, no way to ever turn it back off again.

I asked the Lord how the wheat and tares applies to me, and why would He wake me up with those words. This is what He wrote on my heart….

.... The Lord has sown good seed inside the world of my heart, the enemy came and planted his seed through those who hurt me. The tares grew with the wheat and now that the wheat has bloomed and is ready to produce a crop of its own. It is time, Jesus sent out the Harvesters to remove the tares and burn them up so the crop will produce a hundred fold. The tares represent the memories I locked away in the dark prison cells of my heart, behind concrete walls, with a light switch I’ve guarded my whole life. Jo’s love, her strength and her meekness, stepped through it all, as if they weren't even there, and turned the light back on.

That was enough for me to accept the truth, and do what I’ve never been able to do before. Memories have been surfacing, but more like I’m walking through them, observing, acknowledging, as though acceptance is holding my hand, and pain has no ability to touch me. The truth untangling the lies. My perception being transformed each step of the way.

Something strange but also amazing has happened since the conference….

I usually don't drink soda but my mom's favorite soda was Coca-Cola. It just so happens the family we have staying with us likes Coca-Cola, so I had purchased the mini bottles for them, not really thinking much about it.
A couple of days had passed and one day when I opened the fridge I had a strong desire to drink Coca-Cola. An irrational desire to drink what I never drink. For the next three days, I drank a total of three coca-cola's. It seems insignificant, but it wasn't. The Lord does strange things when He heals the brokenness in our souls.
I didn’t know why I was drinking coke the first day but it felt refreshing instead of sin-filled, the second day it was as if I were embracing my mom for who she was, and the third day I let go. I let go of all the expectations, the unrequited love. In the last sip of the last bottle, I finally laid her to rest. Then the amazing happened, a smile stretched across my face as I looked at the empty bottle in my hand and remembered her hair blowing in the wind at an old gas station in the back hills of North Carolina. The sun was bright and she was happy.

I’ve learned, it's okay to remember, its okay to turn the lights on, to look at the truth, the memories. When we don't turn the lights on, when we refuse, there is a part of us that is stuck there...

I know the days ahead of me, I will embrace whatever the Holy Spirit brings to mind and although it may hurt, there is great healing in the strange of it all, and I will remember my mom with a smile, just like Jo said I would.

Thank you Lord for the healing that comes from vessels like Jo Naughton and her team!

John 8:36 Jesus makes a wonderful statement of victory. He says, “So if the Son sets you free you will be free indeed.”