I am so excited and honored to introduce you to our guest writer today! Andrea from Under Grace, Over Coffee is a wonderfully inspirational writer, and I have so enjoyed getting to know her through Exemplify in recent months. Andrea has an incredible testimony, filled with many stories of miracles and healing. I am thrilled to have her share some of that with us all here today!
There are a few things I have inherited from my mom.
The way I look. My laugh. Her fastidiousness when it comes to, oh, pretty much everything (read: I’m a total neat/control freak. But in a good way!). I’ve even inherited her Irish temper.
When I was pregnant with each of my girls, I dreamed of the relationship we would have. I wanted us to be close, to laugh together and cry together. I wanted them to be able to feel confident enough in our relationship that they could come to me about anything.
I wanted these things because I have lacked them in my relationship with my own mom. I want to be fair here – for the better part of my life, my mom has suffered from chronic depression. She suffered postpartum depression, but was never diagnosed, and therefore never treated.
There were quite a few years where she was healthy and free from her depression. Those years I felt safe and secure. But something happened around the time I was 12 that completely changed her. She went from being vibrant to staying at home in bed the better part of the day. She barely spoke to me, and when she did, it was because I was in trouble. The better part of my childhood was spent trying to understand my mom and wondering if she actually loved me at all.
When I was 15, my mom’s depression took a turn for the worse. I started wondering why I was so unlovable, and believed my mom when she told me I was worthless and would never amount to anything or do anything right.
During all this time, I cried out desperately to God. I didn’t know Him, but I knew I wanted to know Him. All my life I have known God was real. I may not have understood Him or who Jesus was, but I knew I wanted to know Him.
About a month after I turned 17, I had gone out with a friend after our school’s drama rehearsal. I had left a note saying about when I would be home. I guess my note was too vague, because when I walked in the door, I faced the worst altercation with my mom I had ever had.
That night I was told to leave and never come back. That night I left. And it literally changed my life for the better.
When I first moved, I was understandably bitter and angry. I was angry at having to leave my friends and my life behind to start over. And the school I ended up going to was small and undeniably clique-y.
To say I was miserable would be an understatement.
About a month after I started my new school, I started hanging out with a girl in my biology class. She would constantly bug me to come to her youth group every week. Every week I scoffed at her. She could have given up on me; I was less than kind when she spoke about her church. But she didn’t. And she eventually wore me down.
The first event she took me to there was a speaker who talked about how much Jesus loved me. Me. The unlovable one. There was an invitation that night, but I wasn’t having any of that, no matter how much my heart finally recognized what I was longing for.
I spent a few weeks with this girl’s youth group. In it I found unconditional love and acceptance from my peers and from the leaders. No one cared that I made mistakes. Or that I didn’t know a thing about God. They just accepted me for me.
This love and acceptance broke my resolve. In May of 1993, I asked Jesus into my life. The next month I was baptized and that summer became a member of my church.
The church I met my husband at. The church I was married in. The church all my babies were dedicated in.
The church that loved me and accepted me as family, when I felt not one single person ever would.
The church Jesus met me at and welcomed me home.
I’m so thankful I have spent half of my life in His arms. But I’ve come to realize that those first 17 years weren’t spent alone, either. My child-like faith drew me near to Him when I was hurting, when I felt abandoned and confused, when I needed love like nothing else. He was right there beside me, hurting with me. And He provided a way for me to finally find Him, to finally know the best love I will ever know.
I could spend the rest of my life being bitter and angry for the hurt I experienced all those years. But instead, I am choosing to be thankful and joyful for His redemption and love.
Romans 8:28 tells us that “we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good ” (TM). Even though at the time I couldn’t possibly understand what good would come out of the things I experienced, today I can. Even I as write my story, God is tapping me on the shoulder saying “Listen to Me. Hear what I am telling you. You are my precious and beloved daughter.”
Whoever you are, whatever you have gone through, wherever you are today, God wants to work the details of your life into something good. You are His precious and beloved daughter.
And He loves you with an everlasting love that far outreaches the love of any person on this earth. He will never, ever leave you, and never, ever forsake you. He adores you. And He is waiting to welcome you into His outstretched arms, ready to build you up to the lovely and beautiful woman He has created you to be.
Thanks so much, Andrea, for sharing your story! Readers, be sure you check out her blog and keep up with Andrea on Twitter too! She is such an incredible blessing!
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I am living proof of how the Lord can take a broken life and turn it into something beautiful. Although I am still very far from perfection, I am still a work of His art. My heart's prayer is that "Brokenness into Beauty" will be a source of inspiration and encouragement to all! There is hope, and there is healing on the horizon.
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So much of this story is my own, and I hurt all over again when revisiting those years. To watch a parent fade from vibrant and strong to drained and angry is so confusing for a child. I can’t do much now to understand but know she is broken, just like me, but different. Our God adores us, and I love you for pointing it out with such honesty and willingness!