A Love Letter to My Molested Sons

My Son,

I love you. But really…what is going on with you?

Yes. I know that may be odd coming from me. The One who knows all, who made all, who sees all. So, let me clarify: I am not unclear on how you got to this place. I just want to know, from you, why you are choosing to stay here. Here is not good. Here is leading you no where. At the end of here, there is death. Most assuredly.

And yes, I know in many ways, you are already dying inside. You’d have to be to subject yourself to these cycles, these self-debilitating cycles that you settle for: random images of broken women in magazines and on Internet screens; making yourself one with ladies who carry a spirit of harlotry on them; debasing yourself by spilling your sacred seed on bed sheets and couches; sneaking around with my other sons, committing the most pitiful acts of spiritual incest…lying to yourself by saying that this is simply what men do…

And believing those lies because you never talk about it. To me. Or anyone else.

Do you really think that my Son, your brother, died so that you could live this kind of life? It often seems like the only abundance you seem to have is a lot of drama and self-condemnation. Ironically, you tell my daughters that you can’t stand people who live this way; that actually may be your biggest lie of all because like a fool who returns to his vomit, you’re wallowing in your sexual sin and the stench is becoming unbearable. Yet it’s almost like you don’t even sense it anymore. Your passion is burning you…making you numb to your senses. Your common sense.

Oh my son. A dead man walking is just what you have become and as I look at some of your brothers and their current state of mind, it would appear that it’s contagious. Death is contagious.

I want to get angry. I should be angry. When I created the world in which you currently reside, Adam was my firstborn. You, as a man, were my firstborn. There is a pride that a Father has over the beginning of anything he does. YOU WERE MY BEGINNING. I love my daughters in very special ways. Ways that almost make me laugh as you try to understand them with your finite mind. But you? You are who I have known the longest…spent the most time with. When I thought to make a man in my image, to have dominion over the earth…to protect all of my creation, including my daughters, even as the Lord of all, there was a certain level of respect I had for you by giving you that position. Don’t you get it? For me to put you in charge of all that you see, all that I manifested, I’d have to trust you. And I did. And even though you have broken your loyalty ties with me, time and time again, I still want to.

Yet how can I when you continue to repeat the things that your forefathers have? Your fathers have. Your grandfathers have. Samson, David and Solomon have. You try and command honor in your world, even from me, but you are not acting like a man of reverence, valor, distinction. You’re so peculiar and yet you settle for being ordinary…usual…unexceptional. To subject yourself to the constant destruction that you do, I realize that I cannot wait for you to repent. I have to woo you to me. I must speak to a place within you that has grown numb, that has deceived you, that dwells in a cold and dark space where my light has not been allowed to shine. A space where the world has viciously tricked you into believing is only reserved for the chromosomes that make up a woman. A place where, without it, you cannot survive. Physically or emotionally. That place is your heart. Your broken heart.

For a moment, my son, let me speak to your heart.

Everything in my Word serves a purpose. What was documented many years ago, because I am timeless, can help you even now. I remember when my daughter, Mary, came to my Son about her brother, Lazarus. How she said to him, “Lord, if you had been there, my brother would not have died.” I remember how my Son felt when he saw her weeping. It caused him to groan in his spirit. It caused him, too, to weep. He was the Savior of your world. And still, his heart felt. Still, as a man, he wept.

My son, even now, there is the spirit of Mary upon a woman who loves you. She beckons for me to come to you…to raise you from the dead…to heal you of your wounds. Do you not think I am aware of those wounds? The ones that are gaping open. The ones that are affected and infected inside? The ones that consist of the men who fondled you as toddlers? Of the women who degraded you as children? Do you not think I am aware that you have silently cried so many nights with little comfort about the precious gift of virginity that was taken from you? About the unattended pangs of abuse that have gone unnoticed for so long that it has led you to believe that you are no longer in pain? It hurts me because I know that you long for the innocent kisses and hugs that your parents, both of your parents, should have given you. I know that is why you settle for one-nighters…sometimes overnight in your apartment…other times in hotel rooms by the hour. I know that you are a victim.

But listen to me. I created you to be victorious. Where one is called, he is often attacked but by me, he is also chosen to overcome it. I know it’s hard to have faith in the midst of your suffering, but please hear me when I say that My Son, your brother, shed his blood so that you wouldn’t have to pay such a dear price for affection, affirmation, attention. And yet, because you are not reminded of this nearly as much as you need or deserve, here you are. Paying. Losing. Yourself. Daily.

The wages of sin is death and I see the mess that you are in…that you have made. As your Creator, I should be angry. But as your Father, I just want to love on you. I want to validate you. I want you to hear from me, the King of the Universe and the One who loves you like you were the only thing I ever made, that what was done to you was wrong. Not having a good father in your home to set an example to you was wrong. Not having someone acknowledge your tears and fears as you were maturing so that you could process emotional development now was wrong. Not having healthy images to set a standard for you in the media, at your school, in your church, even in your intimate circles is wrong. For you to have to figure this all out alone? Son, that is so wrong and it was never a part of my original plan.

I want to heal you. Please let me help to make it right…to make this all right. I know it must be hard when you’ve been wondering where I was all of this time. It’s fair to ask yourself, to ask me, how I could love you and allow such vile things to happen. Honestly, I’ve asked myself how I can expect you to have faith in me as a man when your trust in me as a boy was so severely shaken. How can I be surprised by what I see when I know the foundation it was built upon? Even though you carry my spirit, how can I overlook that you are also made of flesh and flesh doesn’t have the same kind of perspective…vision…ultimate state of surrender to my will and my way.

I know you have so many questions that have gone unanswered. All I can say right now is that if you choose to believe in me, in time, my time, I will make more things clear. There is no excuse for abuse. My son, there is no excuse and I know you needed to hear that…from me. However, I do want to show you what my love can do. What purpose past pain can serve. What I desire for you to have that the Enemy has systematically and generationally tried to rob you of. He’s so jealous of you, don’t you see? He knows how much I love my firstborn. Please let me show you what I initially had in mind…before he tried to separate us…before it all. Please let me guide you back to what’s right.

I want to get back to the basics. To the beginning. To when you had dominion over your world; to when I brought one woman to you to bring you pleasure…and favor…and the admiration, affection and attention that you so secretly crave. Cravings are a result of deficiencies. I created Adam lacking nothing. Your fetishes are a result of your unmet desires. I understand that, but they won’t fill you. I didn’t make you to be a sexual robot. I made you to be a king of authority. To live. To laugh. TO FEEL. To possess this land and then enjoy the fruit of your labor. Your work was never meant to go unrewarded. In my ultimate plan, your mind, body and spirit were to be shielded by a holy covenant and within that covenant, children were to be created that will not only respect me, but will honor you. My son, honor comes with your gender. You do not have to earn esteem. I set into motion that you should have respect, first and foremost, self-respect. And from others, praise. Yes, I created you to be recognized as royalty.

You were not to be a slave. Especially to what I put you in place to cover. Yes, I should be angry with how far from this reality you are, but all I feel at this moment is compassion…patience…love because I know how much you are hurting. I know this because I know you better than you know yourself. No man who really sees himself is blinded by sin. I want to show you what I see in you. It’s mind-blowing…miraculous…the truest essence of manhood.

Love is not a sign of weakness. Love is actually what will reveal this.

Please, again, let me love you. Don’t continue to let the Enemy molest you. Please, give me a just few moments in time to embrace you…to make this right again. To bind up your wounds…to restore what has been taken…to fight the battles of your past demons; the ones that keep haunting and taunting you. My son, you are a warrior. I made you that way. But this one? This struggle for your spiritual and sexual identity? Rest in me and the assurance that THIS IS NOT YOUR BATTLE. When it comes to spiritual warfare, first and foremost, the fight is always mine.

But, unlike many others, I respect your position. I will not move on your behalf…unless you allow me. However, I am asking your permission because the Enemy has more traps and tricks in mind for you. I want to help, but I know that others have robbed you of your space and right to choose. I refuse to do that. I will wait until you surrender to my will. All I ask is that you consider doing that…now. I want to resurrect your spirit…even now.

This life that you are living, the way you are living it, is no life for you. I’m coming to you, at this very moment, my spirit heavy with a sense of urgency, because I need you to know that when I look at you, even in the midst of it all, you still bring me so much pride and joy. You are my son and there are no regrets. My anger is actually what sin is doing to you. I made you to stand strong but to do that, you must be strong. Healing is what will empower you. Forgiving is what will enable you. Refraining is what will inspire you. Obeying is what will deliver you. Serving me is what will make you…your all.

I know this road has not been an easy one. I also know there are a lot more stumbling blocks ahead. But before you take one more step, I want to tell you one-on-one just what I think of you and desire for you. It’s so much more than this. As my son, you automatically have access to an inheritance beyond your wildest imagination. It’s still within your right to dream just as you did in high school. Did you think I forgot about those desires? All is not lost. There is still much to gain. I have so much for you. Please let what’s holding you go so that I can grant it to you. Open your hands to receive. Just this once try and trust me. As the One who made you, I will not disappoint. Please allow me the awesome privilege, my son, MY SON, the son of the King of Kings, to not disappoint. To put you back into position.

I love you.

I love you past your pain and your mistakes.

I love you with an everlasting love.

Please. With the childlike faith you once had…just this once….

Leap. Let me catch you. Let me lead. Let me be…

Not just your God…but…

Your Heavenly Father, too.

©Shellie R. Warren/2010