It’s not what it looks like.
How many of us have gone through something painful, only to have others judge us without knowing the full story? I can relate to Mephibosheth in 2 Samuel 4:4. When his nurse heard the news that Saul and Jonathan were dead, she panicked. In her fear, she picked him up and ran to protect him—but instead of saving him, she dropped him. And from that moment on, he was lame.
There are so many parents—especially single parents—who can relate to this story. Children don’t come with a manual. Most of us are doing the best we can while carrying our own unhealed wounds, mental battles, and emotional scars. Yet we keep trying to protect and guide our children, even while bleeding ourselves. A real parent always wants better for their children than what they had growing up—even if what they had was good. Because sometimes good can be the enemy of better.
That nurse didn’t sit still because she didn’t care. She ran because she wanted to save him from what destroyed his father and grandfather. She was trying to prevent a tragedy—but in her fear, she caused one. That resonates deeply with me.
After my difficult marriage and divorce, I found myself a single mother running from fear, pain, and destruction—just like that nurse. Then, three years later, my ex-husband passed away suddenly at 38, leaving me to carry the full weight of raising our two young sons alone. I was on the run, not physically, but emotionally and spiritually—running from trauma, from the war zone we had just escaped, praying I could protect them from its aftermath.
Many women have been there. Whether by choice or circumstance, so many mothers have been left to carry the aftermath of broken homes, broken promises, and broken systems. And in that process, some of our children have been crippled—emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
I never imagined my own son would be one of them. I had three boys to raise on my own, and the weight became overwhelming. I exhausted every resource I could to get help, but the situation only got worse. Eventually, my youngest son—my heart—had to enter the foster care system. It broke me. It looked like failure to the outside world. But it wasn’t what it looked like. I was trying to save him, not abandon him.
When I walked into that courtroom for the first time, my attorney looked me in the eyes and said, “I know why you’re here, and I’m prepared to go to war for you.” Then the judge looked at me, smiled gently, and said, “Something tells me you’ve done everything you could.” He asked only one thing of me—to never break my connection with my son. And I didn’t. Even when it was hard.
For one year, I stood in the lion’s den until God Himself shut the mouths of those lions and restored my name. I was not charged with anything. God vindicated me.
One day, I’ll share my full testimony with my son beside me. God will get the glory. The gates of hell did not prevail against us.
Just as King David remembered Mephibosheth and brought him to the table to restore what was lost, God is raising up modern-day Davids—people who will call our sons back to the King’s table. Our children are not forgotten. They are royal. They will rise again.
2 Samuel 4:4 (KJV): “And Jonathan, Saul’s son, had a son that was lame of his feet… and his name was Mephibosheth.”