PART 1 — The Silent Wounds of Parenting from Pain

“Healing begins when we stop parenting from guilt and start seeking God for wisdom.”

The Silent Wounds of Parenting from Pain

Circumstances lined up to release a perfect storm in my life with my family. It was amazing and painful — yet a God moment — when He allowed the hedge of protection to thin out and the storm to enter.

I was caught off guard. When the storm erupted, my bubble burst. Old wounds reopened, and I found myself slipping into silent withdrawal instead of speaking. When confronted about my silence, I tried to explain, but surprise met me again in the form of hot tears streaming down my cheeks. The fear of escalation rose up inside me, and I went into survival mode.

Though the storm eventually quieted, I knew it hadn’t dispersed. In the weeks and months that followed, a false peacesettled in — a polite retreat into our corners, but no resolution. Then came an ultimatum, laced with accusation, fear, guilt, betrayals, and failures. Instead of addressing the real issue, the ultimatum became the issue.

What was the real issue?

Pain. Bitterness. Fear. Failures. Betrayals. Insecurities — on both sides.

Months later, I asked God to let me see my part honestly. That’s when the Holy Spirit asked a simple, piercing question:

“What would you have done differently?”

That question stayed with me. I began to think about what in Scripture speaks to parent–child relationships — Eli, David, and others who had a call on their lives. When I read the Scriptures, that’s when I saw the bigger picture: the failure to restrain or guide their children.

The Moment of Revelation

That question — “What would you have done differently?” — wasn’t condemnation. It was an invitation. The Lord wasn’t asking me to relive regret; He was asking me to rediscover wisdom.

As I sat with that question, I saw myself clearly. Even those chosen and anointed by God — Eli, David — faltered in their own households. They prayed about their pain, but not always about their children. They grieved, but they didn’t seek God’s direction.

And I realized I had been doing the same thing.

I talked to God about my daughter’s pain and my own, but not about the wisdom needed to navigate the space between us. I prayed out of guilt and fear, not out of identity.

The Cost of Parental Silence

When I looked back, I realized silence has its own language. I thought I was keeping peace, but silence can sound a lot like agreement — or even abandonment — depending on who’s hearing it.

In my eyes, silence looked like compassion. I thought I was protecting my daughter from more hurt. But the truth is, I was protecting myself from the discomfort of confronting what needed to be addressed. My guilt spoke louder than God’s voice.

God began to show me that silence doesn’t always mean peace. Sometimes it’s just fear dressed up like patience. Eli’s silence cost his sons their calling. David’s silence cost him the peace of his household. And my silence? It cost me closeness.

I called it mercy. I told myself I was showing love. But what I was really doing was avoiding pain — theirs and mine. The “peace” I was keeping wasn’t real; it was temporary— the kind that hides wounds instead of healing them.

And yet, even in that realization, I felt His tenderness. God never exposes something to humiliate us. He exposes it to heal us.

It’s one thing to have revelation; it’s another thing to walk it out — to break familiar patterns and build new ones, especially when the other person is unwilling to look inward themselves.

That’s where the turning begins: not when we fix it all, but when we finally stop protecting our pain and start inviting Him into it.

The Turning Point — The Invitation to Wisdom

Healing really begins with surrender.

In surrender, I realized wisdom comes from Him alone — not from my emotions, guilt, or desire to control the outcome. Parenting from guilt is hard work, and that kind of work comes from the flesh, not His presence.

Maybe the biggest part — if there can be something bigger — was when Holy Spirit showed me I had still been praying as a victim instead of praying as His daughter. A victim pleads to be rescued; a daughter seeks relationship. A victim reacts from fear; a daughter responds from faith.

That’s when the light went on in my heart:

Healing begins when we stop parenting from guilt and start seeking God for wisdom.

It’s not about perfection — it’s about posture. Leaning into the Father’s heart. Trusting that He loves our children even more than we do.

Hope for Families

God never leaves us where He finds us. The same mercy that meets us in our failures meets our children in theirs.

We may not be able to rewrite the past, but we can let God redeem it.

Healing doesn’t always happen in one conversation or one prayer. Sometimes it begins quietly — when we choose humility over pride, and wisdom over guilt.

Families are complicated. Emotions run deep. History repeats itself until someone says, “It stops here.” Let that someone be us.

The same God who restored David’s lineage through Solomon is still redeeming family lines today.

So we pray — not as victims, but as sons and daughters.

We listen for His wisdom.

We believe that even when we don’t see fruit yet, God is writing a better story than the one we lived.