Looking Back

Sometimes, reminiscing is so much fun. Thinking about old times you’ve shared with someone, laughing or doing wild or silly things. But, sometimes, there’s a not-so-fun memory that, at the time, you didn’t realize was so poignant…a moment in time that you don’t realize will stay with you and the person you shared it with for years to come, perhaps for the rest of your lives.

Not too long ago, my daughter reminded me of a moment we shared when she was so very small. I was surprised she even remembered it. I was sure she was too little to recall the moment so vividly. She was maybe just three or four years old and I was still a young, single mom, struggling to make it. And I remember her telling me, in her sweet, small voice, she was hungry. I sat down in front of the tiny, green cabinet we had back then and I began searching desperately for something to offer her. I remember the empty, frustration that filled my heart as I frantically moved things around in the cabinet, hoping to unearth something that I had previously overlooked. But there was nothing there. I couldn’t feed my hungry little girl. Heartbroken, I just fell apart and started to cry. I looked in those big, blue, innocent eyes and of hers and tried to explain to this sweet little baby that I didn’t have anything for her, but the words were insufficient and lacked the substance to fill the emptiness she had in her tummy. I failed her. I snatched her up and hugged her and sobbed uncontrollably, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Erica. I just don’t have anything.”

I didn’t want to ask my parents for their help again. They had already done so much for me and I really wanted to show them I could make it on my own. Of course, eventually, I had to swallow my pride and get my girl something to eat, but the feeling of knowing I couldn’t do it on my own was a painful stab in my heart. And finding out years later that she remembered that moment of failure—my moment of failure as her mother and her sole provider—it caused me to feel that pain all over again. I guess I had hoped she would forget about all the struggles and hard times and stupid mistakes and poor choices that affected her childhood – a time that’s supposed to be filled with laughter and fun and tea parties…hers was filled with wondering if we were going to make it…such grown up worries for such a little girl.

My first marriage had ended. My bills were steadily racking up. Mail was pink, then red; our electricity and water were regularly being shut off. My partying was way out of hand. My whole life was a mess. I lived in a pot-smoke fog because I didn’t know what to do, so I just tried to mentally escape all the fears and frustrations that were steadily mounting with each passing day. But the escapism never helped anything. It just allowed me to be numb to the fact that my life was steadily spinning out of control. I was sucked into a downward spiral…actually, I jumped headlong into a downward spiral (it was not something that happened to me, it was what I allowed myself to become)…and it was consuming me. Worse than that, I was dragging my daughter down with me.

I see some of these young, new mommas all around me and I just think how lucky some of these little babies are to have a mommy who has her stuff together BEFORE they’re born! How lucky they are to have daddies. I sometimes wonder, “What could her life have been like if I had better prepared for her? What if I had grown up more quickly? What if I had known the Lord first? How different could things have been for her?” But it does no good to “what if” these things.

I can look back and see, in spite of the difficult times, God’s hand was all over us. First of all, He gave me these wonderful, amazing, awesome parents who paid my way through business school, who sold me a house and five lots for a dollar, and who helped me, countless times, get my utilities restored when I’d mess up once again. They helped me get my kids through the expensive day care years. They helped me get the kids to and from school and baseball and football and karate. They loved me and supported me, even when they knew so much of my pain was self-inflicted. They scolded me when I needed it, but they never stopped loving me. I would have been so lost without them.

God also protected my relationship with my daughter. This little girl, this amazing little girl, she never got mad at me. She never blamed me for her circumstances or her outcome. She loved me and she had a faith in me that I did not have. She inspired and encouraged me and, eventually, she (and Jesus!) helped me learn about forgiveness and resilience.

God also gave me an amazing son. This little guy was like my second chance. He was God’s gift to me, to allow me to do this parenting thing right this time. Don’t get me wrong, I still have some problem areas that could use some fine-tuning—I’m not exactly vacuuming in high-heels and pearls—but thank God for second chances!

Even in writing this, I’m discovering there are still more lessons to be taken away from this tumultuous time in my life. I’m seeing how determined and stubborn I was being in trying to make it on my own. I was so full of self-pride and I didn’t want to ask anyone for help. If only I had known then that I can do nothing without God. In my own strength, I’m still weak. It wasn’t until I fully submitted myself to God’s will that I became strong. It was through letting go that I finally received the things I had worked so hard for. But when I received them, it was not through a struggle or a fight; it was in simply releasing my desperate need to attain them.

Those days of loss and lack seem so long ago. Though, sometimes, they seem like yesterday. And, from time to time, they seem like something I should be ashamed of. But I would not have gotten to where I am today if my life back then would have come easily. I wouldn’t have sought God so eagerly if I had no losses, no scars, no deep-rooted issues. I’m not ashamed of who I was because my transformation process has given me compassion for people who are struggling and for people who feel lost or like their world has caved in on them. It has given me a way to relate to and encourage people who feel like they’ve just gone too far and they can’t recover; people who feel not even Jesus can help them. It gave me the desire to not just know God, but to go after Him with a hunger and a passion and a desire to be all that He has created me to be. It has given me the fire in my belly that drives me to do things that I never dreamed I would and never even imagined I could.

As you’re facing the mountains in life without Jesus, it’s difficult to see anything but the uphill climb. It seems a daunting, impossible task, and, let’s face it, it’s frightening. It can be so overwhelming that you just give up. But when God comes along side you and He is helping you to climb, He will hold your hand when you grow weary, He’ll refresh your spirit and give you the strength you need to carry on. He will help you see, not only the climb, but every once in a while, He’ll give you a glimpse of the summit. He will help restore your hope and He will give you new visions and dreams so that you don’t lose heart during the climb. And one day, just as you reach the summit of the mountain you’re climbing, you’ll know full-well that there’s another mountain on the horizon, waiting for you to tackle it. But it’s not looming before you in a mocking manner; it’s there to present you with another opportunity for growth and another opportunity to conquer something you didn’t know you could. The mountain not meant for your demise, it’s meant for your growth. So keep your chin up and your hiking boots on. One day you’ll look back in amazement to see an entire mountain range, full of victories, lying behind you.