Daughter of a Childless Widow
By Phoebe L. Mason
I was born in the middle of a hopeless conversation.”
My family was very intellectual, analytical and scientific with an
emphasis on logic, self reliance and maintaining appearances while
denying emotion. My mother believed no one in his right mind could
ever hope to be happy. How could a thinking person be anything but
depressed in a world like ours? She was a perfectionistic,
frustrated housewife who never wanted to be married or have
children. However, that was her only way out of a past she hated.
As her daughter, I grew up hearing, “Oh, to be a childless widow
with an independent income,” and, “Children are to be seen and not
heard.” It was the perfect set up for me to work harder and
harder, trying to receive the love and approval I needed. Every
birthday, Christmas and Mother’s Day I’d ask my mother what she
wanted. Her answer was always the one thing beyond my ability to
give her, “Peace and quiet.” It didn’t matter how hard I tried, I
could not please her or win her approval. I was an inconvenience
at best.
Although a relative on my father’s side about two hundred years
before had written hymns in the Hymn books, my family walked away
from God. I grew up with clichÈs like, “Religion is the weapon of
the weak.” Christianity was especially despised and held
responsible for more deaths (the Crusades) than any war. Even in
the midst of this I knew from an early age that there had to be
more to life and was a seeker. I looked everywhere except
Christianity, majored in Psychology, and ended up in counseling,
trying to find out, “What’s wrong with me?” Psychology was not
able to help me, and I kept getting more and more depressed. Every
time I saw a counselor, my past would get stirred up, but there
would be no peace or resolution.
Fortunately, our God is God of the impossible, and he is
relentless in his love for and pursuit of us. I finally met him
when I experienced a peace I’d searched for my whole life and
never found. In that moment I repeated after the stranger on the
phone, “Heavenly Father, I know that I’m a sinner and you sent
your Son to die for me so that I could be saved. Please forgive
my sins and come live in my heart.” At the same time in my mind I
said, “God, I don’t know if I believe in you and I don’t know what
these words I’m repeating mean, but I’ll try.” That’s all it took
for him to start totally transforming my life.
As I read the Bible, I learned that the Lord said, “Before I
formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you
apart” (Jer 1:5a), and that he guards me as the apple of his eye
(Deut 32:10). My mind started to understand that I am special. The
Bible promised that, “God works for the good of those who love
him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Ro 8:28).
I finally had found the love and approval I’d been searching for,
but my heart still believed the lies I’d grown up with about my
lack of self worth. Consequently, I wasn’t able to fully receive
the love God was offering me. However, because I read that I could
be confident “that he who began a good work in (me) will carry it
on to completion” (Phil 1:6), I had hope for the first time.
After accepting Jesus as my Lord and Savior, the next most
important thing I did was to attend Blessing Generations, a
seminar now offered at Newman Conference Center
(www.newmancc.org). I learned that I could hear directly from
God. At first I was heart-broken to discover that there are seven
times in life when it is critical to be blessed in order to become
all God created us to be. I hadn’t received any of the blessings.
But then I realized I could ask God to give me those blessings at
the seminar. The mother’s blessing had the most impact of all. In
my mind I saw (which was unusual for me) Jesus with his arms
stretched out to welcome me at my birth. Knowing that Jesus wanted
me settled everything!
He brought back to mind events which I had forgotten and showed me
where I believed the world’s lies instead of the truth, which is
who God says I am in the Bible. Lies like, “You’re good for
nothing.” “What makes you think you’re so special?” “You’re such
an inconvenience!” Or my mother’s question, “Did it ever occur to
you that you’re just a piece of chalk on a blackboard that’s been
passed over by an eraser?” As a good gardener, God removed the
very root and everything attached to it, and restored the truth. I
am his “beloved,” “God’s temple” and “a saint.”
In the worst of the memories, Jesus showed me where he was and his
sorrow about what had happened to me. I knew the healing was
complete when he took me back to painful memories and I could
remember all the details, but there was no pain, anger or negative
emotion left. I was free at last and able to abide in “the peace
of God, which transcends all understanding” (Phil 4:7). There is
nothing better than knowing I’ve been adopted into the family of
God and can now walk in the freedom he died to give me. He is the
lover of my soul and more than enough. He brings love, hope and
light in the darkness. He is the peace my mother so desperately
wanted and I could not give her. Although she died before I came
to know Jesus, I now have that peace to share with many others.
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