HOW DID YOUR MOM FEEL ABOUT YOUR BOOK?

Did your mom read your book? Considering the content in which you wrote your book, how did your mom feel about it? And what is your relationship with your mother today, were some questions I was asked.

I will address all three questions, but let me say this first. Next, to my best friend, Felicia Crawford, my mother was and is my biggest and most supportive advocate. Just like any other mother-daughter relationship, my relationship with my mother is not perfect. And we don’t always see things eye to eye and may not always take the same approach or direction in handling or managing life. But, I am very content with where we are in the process of overcoming some very challenging and deep-seeded hurt.

Now, to answer the questions.

Did my mother read my book? Yes. My parents were the first people I sent a copy of my book to. In fact, they got together and decided to become investors in my project and paid for the printing cost of my book.

So yes, she has read it. My youngest sister has read it too. I have been told by my brother that my father has read it, but I have not had any indications whether that is the case or not. My father has not brought up the book and its not in my spirit to push it either. And to my knowledge, my brother has not and I really don’t expect he will.

Considering the content in which you wrote your book, how did your mom feel about it? Let me start with my sister. My sister and I were on a family trip sharing a hotel room when she brought up her thoughts about my book. She wished I would have left some details out concerning my father. But, other than that, she felt concerning the things she was aware of that it painted an accurate picture.

As far as my mom, to have such a conversation was very painful for her. And I get and respect that. Our initial and most in-depth conversation about my book took place in her home with my best friend present. That was our first heart to heart conversation ever about the matter. I allowed her to do most of the talking because I was in a different place as it related to healing than my mom. So, to me, this was more about her expressing herself and airing out her emotions.

My mom had two perspectives about the book. Either, she didn’t agree with something I said. Or, she didn’t recall certain things that were mentioned. For me, that was ok. The book was for me, to help others who were or found themselves in a similar situation, and it was from my perspective. As far as I was concerned, if my mother was writing the same story, it would come from a different perspective. That wouldn’t mean hers was wrong and mine was more right. It only would mean that we encounter the same experience from different angles. In the same way, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, recorded similar accounts concerning Jesus, but there are a few variations in the way the story about Jesus was told. But their story carries a constant theme and validates one another.

I don’t remember how long that conversation took place. But, in the end, I told my mom, I love her and I just want all of us to heal – whatever that looks like for each one of us. My mom’s final thoughts were that she wished the book didn’t have to be written at all. But, if I felt that was what I needed to do in order to heal, she completely understood. And then my best friend, Felicia spoke some powerful and encouraging words to my mom to reassure her that I had moved on. I’m only doing what God has called me to do to help others (Revelation 12:11). Felicia closed by reassuring my mother that I have forgiven her and my dad years ago, and then she shared some other loving, encouraging words with my mom that I know was very helpful.

Final question. What is my relationship with my Mom today? Well, prior to my book, I rarely reached out to my mom. In my twenties, I probably tried too hard to please my mom, and it may have worked for her, but it made me miserable. Because to please her, I was being someone I wasn’t. Emotional, my thirties were extremely hard for me. I had no real life direction. By this point, mostly everyone I had encountered was trifling and betrayed me on one level or another. And too many family members were no different. Either they were non-supportive and acted one way in my face while spreading half-truths or outright lies behind my back. And my mom was not helping during my most troubling period. Which resulted in me repeating something I saw and learned from her during my teen years. I isolated myself from everyone and everything. The difference was I poured myself into my children and used them as an excuse as to why I couldn’t interact with others…. I will admit. During my thirties, my mother became more of a target, the blame for my lack of success or failures. I even wished either I was never brought into this world or was born into a different family. In my eyes, my mother was to blame for why my siblings and I were not close. I blame her for drawing a wedge between my siblings and I and even our children. A mother was supposed to be the cornerstone of every family, and my mother was not that. I was not a fan at all of my mom during this period.

But then God showed up and spoke life into my dead soul. He gave me a new perspective on not only my situation but my mother’s. Then God encouraged me to write my book. I believe my writing that book changed everything for my mom and me. After our initial talk, my mom started calling and texting more. At some point, I realized for the first time in her life she was showing a sincere interest. She slowly began to tell me she loved me regularly. She even started to share some very painful and hurtful experience of her past, which provided me with much needed insight, understanding of her makeup during my childhood and helped me to feel more sympathetic toward her. My mom put forth a conscious effort for more than a year before I finally got to a place where I felt SAFE with her to initiate calling or texting her to check up on her. To tell her I love her. To have any desire to even want to know how she was doing. To care.


It was a process. But that process would not have happened if I was not willing to tell my truth without holding anything back in my book, Surrendering: A Blueprint of My Life. I would say today that God has both of us where we need to be in the process of healing.

I Remember Blaming God For My Pain

Whether you believe in God or not, I believe most of us do believe that God is all knowing and has the ability to impede or prevent anything if he chooses. So, why doesn’t he? Why doesn’t he act in times of sinful offenses like sexual abuse, etc.? 

For years, I remember carrying anger and bitterness toward God because I couldn’t understand where was he throughout my childhood sexual, physical or emotional abuse. Why didn’t he stop those who took advantage of me and my innocence’s? Why did he not punish those who knew or suspected what was going on, or those who stood idle and did little or nothing to protect me? I questioned what kind of God was he supposed to be that lets something as evil as this to happen and do nothing. 

Lori Dixon



I remember, for a little over 7 years, I abandoned God. I despised the ground he walked on. I stopped believing and blamed him for everything that had gone wrong in my life. I blamed him for all the madness that I saw going on around me in the world. It was his fault. He is to blame because he did nothing to stop it.

 

That was my logic. I wouldn’t declare that I had become an atheist, but I was heading in that direction. For years, I had allowed my personal experience and pain to trap me into a web of lies about God. Causing me to misdirect the blame, who was really at fault for the destruction I was exposed to at an early age. The true protagonists in my story remind hidden for many years.

The problem really lies in my perspective – my disposition to see what was taking place behind the scene on my behalf – things and revelations I would not be privy to until years later as God revealed them to me through people and confirmed visions. The mistake I made early on was that I never allowed God to answer any of my disturbing questions. I never sought him or gave him the opportunity to answer the whys, how come, where was he. I never listened to his voice. I never allowed him to show me what he was really doing to intervene in the tragedies that had happened in my life. I just assumed he didn’t care. He allowed these things to happen, even though he could have stopped it. That he was no different than the people around me.

 

Two decades will pass before those questions would be answered for me. And when they were, I realized, I spent a good part of my life harboring anger, resentment, and bitterness for NOTHING. That I could have prevented so many of my self-afflicted scars if I would have waited long enough to hear God’s voice. If I would have allowed him to show me the truth behind the scenes. If I would have allowed him to unrattled the lies that Satan had tricked me to believe about God and his role in my plight.

I want to share a segment of this unrattling of lies in hopes that it will help someone to uncover the truth in their tragic story.

There were a few scriptures I remembered God showed me to unrattled the lies I had come to believe within. The latter part of 2 Peter 3:9 says “He does not want anyone to be destroyed, but wants everyone to repent.” There were many people who played a part into my plight. My stepfather who took advantage of me and sexually abused me. My parents who did not properly protect me, nor helped me to properly heal from my experience. The secrets others kept, whether they knew or suspected. Those who were in a position of power to act and didn’t. Some religious leaders who were aware and stood by and did nothing – they washed their hands and excused themselves from getting involved. The legal system who did not implement nor enforced stiff enough laws and penalties when the crime was uncovered. The Church for looking the other way and did not provide proper covering and grace for me nor my family that was broken from the experience. There was a long list of people and agencies God named. Too long to name here.

 

Then God showed me where at different stages before the abuse took place, during the abuse, and afterward, how he sent different individuals to change and motivated people’s heart to either do the right thing, to help or to influence one to change their sinful ways. The Apostle James was right in saying, “So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin (James 4:17, ESV). The Apostle Mark adds, “What comes out of a person is what defiles, (NOT GOD BUT), him. For from within, out of the man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness….” (Mark 7:20-23, ESV) The latter part of verse 23 nails it home. “All these evil things come from WITHIN….” There it is. The answer I’ve been searching for all these years for my misdirected blame. IT WAS NEVER GOD! But, all those God had named to me, who all played a part directly or indirectly in my abuse. Those who knew and did little or nothing to correct the matter in acting out in the name of justice. Those who kept the secret and stood by and looked the other way. God was demanding and working for JUSTICE on my behalf. 

And yet, through it all, it was and is God’s desires for all those involved to repent. Genuinely repent and turn away from ever repeating the same sin, the same act again – whatever their roles were (2 Peter 3:9). God was looking and trying to create a situation where everyone who had sinned against me could be corrected and saved. That is always his desire.

 

There is always a season for everyone to repent and to make a wrong a right, which is why verse 9 of 2 Peter 3 says, “… God isn’t really being slow….” Not being slow about what? In my situation, he was not being slow in acting out on my behalf. Although I could not see what all he was doing behind the scene. As soon as the evil seed was planted in my stepfather’s heart, God went to war on my behalf to prevent it. Remember what God said to Cain, Able’s brother before Cain murdered Able? God warned Cain that sin was crouching at his door and that he needed to master it – get control over it before it took control over him (Genesis 4:6). Through God’s word, he has always warned men and women many times over before they act out sinfully. And the case with my stepfather was no different. God was working behind the scenes. I learned later that there were individuals who didn’t know directly what my stepfather was up to, but God sent them to warn him to stop it. But, he, my stepfather, was too far gone and didn’t heed the warnings. It has only been recently that I learned that eventually, several of my uncles got together and showed up at my stepfather’s job and put a fear in him that finally freed my family from this man’s grip. Lord knows the difference it would have made in my spirit if I knew what they had done during that time.

There was so much evidence God has given me to show me that he was there, working things out on my behalf; although, I was unaware of how hard God was working to prevent and later free me from the hands of the snake that was choking the life out of my family (John 10:10). And to this very day, we all are still suffering in one way or another from that one act of sin against my flesh.

 

And let me add, at that time, I didn’t understand that even though I was the main victim in my story, I was not the only person that God was trying to save. God is a God of justice. He loves everyone. Everyone, no matter what role they play in my story. The perpetrator, no matter his or her crime. The protagonist. The antagonist. The tempter. The skeptics, etc. All the people who played a role in my tragic story, God wants to save them all. And he has been and is doing the same in your traumatic story too.

God is there. Right there in the mix fighting for you. Trying to unrattle the lies and uncover the truth to rescue and defend you. But he cannot ignore his love for justice for all in the process.

Photo CR: Lori Dixon