I have written many times through this medium about my earlier life, but it wasn’t until I read an article the other day which made me, or rather forced me, to see things from a different perspective.  I knew it logically, had heard it preached in sermons, but it didn’t resonate with me until now.  Perhaps in your own life this lesson will help you.

Many times when people asked me about my life, where I came from, where I was born, and who my parents were, I would dodge the question or change the subject.  There was a reason (humiliation and embarrassment).  I believed deeply within myself I was to blame for all that happened and couldn’t bear for anyone to look into my eyes, nor see behind the mask.  I didn’t want them to know, and equal to it was feeling ashamed of where I came from.  These feelings stalked me through congregation after congregation, person after person, with no rest.  Running and hiding, dodging question after question, always frightened they would find out the truth and never accept me.

Life is messy, and for some messier than others.  We all want to come from great Christian parents who loved us, had a perfect home, a perfect education, a perfect family, no problems, and no scars.  When I would hear stories from others or read bio’s of others and compare mine, frankly,  I just didn’t want to talk about it.  I could look in the eyes of others and read them.  One question would beget another and I looked for an exit as fast as possible.  I became adept at it, and then I just became tired of running.  You may not escape your past, but you do not have to let it define you.  This is the lesson I learned.

I have learned what others can only learn from books, but books cannot give a depth of understanding and compassion for others which I have learned from experience.  My past made me dig deeper into God’s Word for answers.  Those experiences are what made me who I am today.  It formed my character and made me realize I was not responsible for the choices made by others, though I did have to suffer from their choices.  It is my faith in God which drives me onward and shows me a much better way of living and the possibilities that lie within me.

It wasn’t by any stretch a perfect life, but then who has a perfect life?  It was my life, and my story.  Scars were left, but only because the wounds have healed and taught me many lessons.  Trying to cover up my life wasn’t giving others an opportunity to learn, and prayerfully they will not make the same sinful choices in their own lives as my parents did.

I no longer view myself as a scared and scarred woman.  I still have my moments, but now I view myself as God sees me (a faithful child of His).  It is through the death of His Son I have purpose, direction, and meaning in my life.  I know who I am.  I know to Whom I belong, and where I am going.

We all have a story, but it usually isn’t the story we are telling the world.  I know God accepts me, and I don’t have to run from the past any longer.

“Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended:  but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”     Philippians 3:13-14

“When something bad happens, you have three choices.  You can either let it define you, let it destroy you, or you can let it strengthen you.”      ~ Dr. Seuss

Eileen Light