Estrangement and Controversy: Two Sides of the Same Coin

Can the Gap Be Healed?

When it comes to estrangement, few topics create more controversy.

For every person who believes reconciliation is possible, there is another who believes the relationship is beyond repair. For every parent who longs for restoration, there is an adult child carrying wounds they believe can never be understood. Estrangement and controversy often seem to be two sides of the same coin.

Can the gap be healed?

I have heard that it can.

But I do not believe it is a road that is easily walked.

Healing estrangement requires something far deeper than simply reopening communication. It requires healing of the mind, body, and soul. It requires each person to embark on their own journey of transformation. It asks us to examine not only what was done to us, but also what remains unhealed within us.

Perhaps most difficult of all, it requires us to lay down our pride.

It means releasing our demands for apology.

It means surrendering our need to be proven right.

It means letting go of the idea that healing can only happen if someone else changes first.

On both sides.

Forgiveness is often misunderstood.

Many people believe forgiveness means excusing harmful behavior or pretending pain never happened.

But forgiveness is something much different.

Forgiveness is letting go of a debt we believe someone owes us.

It is releasing our grip on the ledger we carry in our hearts.

That is not easy work.

It requires honest introspection. It requires courage. It requires a willingness to look deeply into ourselves and ask God to reveal the places where healing is still needed.

Because healing is not only about repairing relationships.

Healing is about becoming whole.

I believe we were created to heal.

I believe God designed us for restoration.

In my own journey through estrangement, the one thing I know for certain is that God desires for each of us to become who He created us to be. That transformation can only happen when we are willing to recognize our need for healing and bring it honestly before Him.

It requires complete surrender.

Not partial surrender.

Not surrender with conditions attached.

Complete surrender.

No pride in who we are.

No pride in the parent we thought we were.

No pride in the sacrifices we made.

It is true that we made sacrifices for our children.

What loving parent wouldn't?

But I have come to understand that those sacrifices are simply part of the job description of a parent. They are not transactions. They are not investments made with the expectation of future returns.

Parenthood is not a contract guaranteeing loyalty.

Our reward comes from God.

Not from our children.

Not from their gratitude.

Not from their understanding.

Not even from reconciliation.

Our reward comes from the One who sees every sacrifice, every tear, every prayer whispered in the dark. Before I continue, I want to make sure there is no misunderstanding about what I am communicating in this blog.

When I speak about healing, I am not only talking about healing from the pain of my adult child choosing No Contact. I am not only talking about the grief of not having a regular relationship with my daughter. For those of us who are genuinely seeking healing, we are often healing from much more than the estrangement itself.

I know I am.

I am healing from a lifetime of wounds. I am healing from abuse, neglect, emotional abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, trauma, loss, disappointment, fear, and the impact of genetic conditions that create their own unique challenges and struggles.

These are my areas of healing.

These are the things I must bring before God.

These are the things I must examine honestly within myself.

These are the places that need to be sifted through, cleaned out, and surrendered.

Daily.

Hourly.

Every single minute.

Every single second.

For me, this is not a case of asking, "What things stand between me and my estranged adult child?" The deeper question is, "What things stand between me and my relationship with God?"

Because the closer I grow to Him, the more clearly I see myself.

The more clearly I see my need for grace.

The more clearly I see the areas where pride still exists.

The more clearly I see the places where healing is still needed.

One of the most common concerns I hear from estranged adult children is this:

"I tried over and over to communicate my concerns. I tried to explain the actions and words that hurt me. I wanted my parent to understand my pain. Instead, they made excuses, turned it back on me, refused to listen, or refused to apologize."

I have no doubt that many estranged adult children have genuinely experienced exactly that.

I believe many of them are telling the truth about their experience.

Why?

Because I know how difficult it is for human beings to admit our own need for healing.

Pride is powerful.

Defensiveness is powerful.

Fear is powerful.

As parents, many of us become skilled at deflecting and defending ourselves.

We tell ourselves we were under tremendous stress.

We remind ourselves how hard we worked.

We point to the sacrifices we made.

We focus on all the things we did right.

Sometimes we even comfort ourselves with the thought that we were simply trying to be better parents than the ones we had. And perhaps that is true.

Many of us made a conscious decision to break cycles, to love our children differently, and to give them things we never received ourselves.

But good intentions do not erase wounds.

Sacrifice does not automatically prevent hurt.

And being a better parent than we had does not necessarily mean we became the parent our child needed. That is a difficult truth to sit with.

Especially when we genuinely loved our children.

Especially when we spent years pouring ourselves out for them.

Especially when we can point to countless moments of care, provision, protection, and sacrifice.

Yet healing requires us to hold two truths at the same time.

We may have sincerely loved our children.

And we may still have wounded them.

We may have sacrificed greatly.

And we may still have blind spots.

We may have done better than the generations before us.

And we may still have areas that need healing.

The moment we begin using our sacrifices as evidence that we could not have caused pain, we stop listening.

The moment we begin using our stress as a defense, we stop examining.

The moment we begin measuring ourselves against our parents instead of against the work God is doing in us today, we stop growing.

God is not asking me whether I was a better parent than the generation before me.

He is asking me whether I am willing to allow Him to continue transforming me today. That question requires humility. And humility is where healing begins. And if I am unwilling to admit to God that I need healing, if I am unwilling to ask Him to search my heart and reveal what needs to change, then why would I expect myself to easily admit those things to another human being—especially my own child?

The reality is that true healing begins with humility.

It begins when we stop defending ourselves long enough to listen.

It begins when we stop explaining and start examining

It begins when we stop proving our case and start asking God to reveal the truth.

That process is painful.

But it is also holy.

Because God cannot heal what we refuse to acknowledge.

And He cannot transform what we refuse to surrender.

Something unexpected has happened during my healing journey.

As God continues to heal me, He has also given me the gift of compassion and understanding for estranged adult children and their decision to keep their distance or become No Contact, as is the situation with my own adult daughter.

I am not saying it is easy to live this way as a parent. It is not.

Not a day that goes by that I do not miss my daughter.

There is not a day that goes by that I do not pray for healing and reconciliation.

The pain is real.

The grief is real.

The longing is real.

I am simply saying that the more I continue this journey, the more my heart becomes tenderized toward estranged adult children and their particular pains, traumas, and need for healing.

Whether I fully understand their experience or not is almost beside the point.

Their pain is real to them.

Their need for healing is real.

And if I desire compassion for my own pain, then I must also be willing to have compassion for theirs.

There is a story in the Bible that I think about all the time when I think about the estrangement I am walking through, the decision of my adult daughter to be No Contact, and others who are walking the estrangement road, whether they are parents or adult children.

It is found in John 21:15-22.

After Peter denied Jesus three times, Jesus sought him out.

Three times Jesus asked Peter, "Do you love Me?"

Three times Peter answered, "Yes, Lord, You know that I love You."

And three times Jesus responded, "Feed My sheep."

Jesus did not begin with Peter's failure.

He began with Peter's love.

Then Jesus revealed that Peter's future would include suffering.

Peter looked over and saw the Apostle John nearby.

And Peter asked, "Lord, what about him?"

Jesus replied:

"If I want him to remain until I return, what is that to you? You follow Me." (John 21:22)

You follow Me.

Those three words have become deeply meaningful to me.

Because so much of estrangement tempts us to focus on someone else's journey.

What are they thinking?

Why won't they call?

Why won't they respond?

When will they change?

When will they heal?

When will reconciliation happen?

Yet Jesus gently redirects Peter away from someone else's path and back to his own.

What is that to you?

You follow Me.

I cannot control my daughter's healing.

I cannot control her choices.

I cannot control her timeline.

I cannot control her journey.

What is that to me?

My responsibility is to follow Christ.

To surrender.

To heal.

To grow.

To listen.

To learn.

To allow God to transform me.

That does not mean I stop praying for reconciliation.

Quite the opposite.

I pray for it every single day.

But I pray with open hands, not clenched fists.

I trust God's timing.

I trust God's purposes.

I trust God's work in both of our lives.

And when I find myself wondering what God is doing in someone else's story, I hear the words of Jesus once again:

"What is that to you? You follow Me."

Perhaps those words are not only for Peter.

Perhaps they are for every parent and every adult child walking the difficult road of estrangement.

Not as a dismissal of pain.

Not as a denial of grief.

But as an invitation to place our eyes back on Christ and trust Him with the parts of the story we cannot control.

Whether reconciliation comes tomorrow, years from now, or not in this lifetime, I trust that God is still working.

He is working in me.

He is working in my daughter.

And He is working in you.

Estrangement may be filled with controversy, pain, and unanswered questions.

But God's work of healing never stops.

And neither should our willingness to surrender to it.

"And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." — Philippians 1:6