Lord, You gave me parents,
and I thought they would love me as I am.
Are they not meant to see
that I am still Your child,
created in Your image,
walking my own path?
Am I wrong, Lord,
to want a life of my own?
To dream my own dreams,
to be more than what they want me to be?
What of the hopes You planted in my heart,
the ones only I can live?
I believed, Lord,
that when You give the gift of children,
You ask us to love them unconditionally
not to mold them into our image,
but to guide them gently,
and then let them grow.
It should not be about success alone,
nor the flawless face shown to the world.
It is about the heart, Lord,
about kindness that endures,
about the courage to rise again
through storms and sorrow.
So I pray to You, Lord:
do not let me bind my son with my own fears.
Let me give him space to breathe,
to stumble, to learn,
to stand as his own person
the one You intended him to be.
And if the world will not accept me,
remind me that I need only Your acceptance, Lord.
Teach me to rest in the peace
of being who I am,
because You know my heart,
and You know it longs to be right with You.
Amen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem