I Wanted to Be a Mom, But I’m Content With Being a Child

Growing up, I was always in church. Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings, and Wednesday evenings—it didn’t matter. If the doors were open, I was inside. 

Even on those weekends I was out of town, my parents made certain to find a church in whatever area we were in and attend. My high school years were spent at a Christian school, where I was a seven-day boarder. Students only went home or to family or friends’ places on long weekends and holidays. 

Needless to say, I heard more about Jesus than most kids my age. I listened to teachers explain why He came to earth, and why He died. I heard that Jesus loved me and that I only needed to let Him into my heart to go to heaven. I even made that commitment a few times, but I can now see it was never made in genuine repentance and faith.   

So Much for Being a Preacher’s Kid

Growing up in a Christian background, I thought of what it meant to love others and be loved. And more specifically, I dreamed of being a loving mom and a loving wife.

But somewhere along the line, my thoughts of love and what love was had little or nothing to do with Jesus. Love became, “if you do this for me, you love me.” “If you don’t do this for me, you don’t love me.” “I will do this for you, because I love you and need you.”

I remember thinking in my teen years that if I didn’t give in to everything that was asked of me, I was not being loving and, therefore, rebellious. So I gave and “put out” in an attempt to be loved and accepted.  I held on to my dream of getting married and having children. In my mind, one day the perfect man would step into my life, love me, marry me, and we would have a family.

Then, as these dreams increasingly felt like a distant reality, something switched in my mind, and I became rebellious, the tough girl that nobody could hurt. I associated with the cool kids in high school, and in adulthood, I was always out drinking, partying, and having fun.

I was a “preacher’s kid,” but no one could have imagined that from the way I lived. Before long, I lived with a perpetual sense of guilt, hoping that no one could ever see or know the things that I did, the places I went, and the people I hurt.

Where Is Jesus?

To deal with the shameful emotions I felt, I turned to the bottle most evenings. It may not have been great on the many mornings that followed, but it did the trick of taking my mind off reality. 

Sometimes I’d catch myself thinking back to those dreams I’d had as a little girl. Dreams of being a mom and a wife. Now I had become an alcoholic who couldn’t have a normal, faithful relationship.

I saw no way out.

Rather than taking ownership of my life, I grew extremely jealous of others, making accusations against them that were true of myself. In my mind, I needed someone—a man—to step in and fix all my problems. In my mind, I had no skills or smarts to get a job and support myself. So I kept searching, kept looking for something more.

Strange as it might sound, I never doubted the existence of Jesus. But the longer I wandered down this sinful path, the more I found myself thinking, Jesus, you know all I ever wanted was to be a good wife and a good mother. So why don’t you send a Godly man into my life who is a good Christian and can make my life better?

Only in retrospect can I see that Jesus was there, and He was protecting me. He protected me when I was a drunk, literally walking down roads alone, trying to get home. He protected me that one time someone threatened to kill me. And He protected me when I was on the floor being kicked in the head by a drunk boyfriend. He protected me in so many ways! 

Did He stop me from doing all the horrible things that I chose to do? No. Did I ever blame Him for anything and everything that was wrong in my life? Thank God, no. 

I knew better than that. I knew He would never make me do what He desired for me. Ironically, even in my drunken moments, I still told people that they needed Jesus. 

Goodbye to Guilt

In December 2017, at 52 years old, I was reading Ezra’s book, What Kind of God Do I Serve? and when I got to page 24, I saw this prayer:

Jesus, I admit that I am a sinner who is in desperate need of a Savior. For too long, I have tried to run my life my way. Today I want things to be different. I acknowledge my need for you and repent of the sins I have committed against you. I believe you are the only one who can save me from my sins. I no longer want to be a servant of sin, but I want to be a servant of you. From this day forward, I commit to obeying your voice. This very moment, I call out to you in faith, asking you to come into my life and change me. I worship you, Jesus. Amen.

At first, I decided to skip over it because I knew I wouldn’t mean it if I said the words. 

By now, I had one marriage that I left, had lost two babies, and the Lord allowed me to marry another non-believer. But something about that prayer stopped me in my tracks. So I went back and prayed the words on the page. Most importantly, I meant them. As I did, something wonderful happened.

For years, I’d lived with a tremendous amount of guilt over the decisions I’d made. The moment I accepted Jesus as my Savior, that guilt was gone…immediately! And I knew beyond any doubt that I was forgiven of all my sin. And because of His mercy—something I knew He does not do for everyone—He removed any sinful sexual desires I used to have.

God only knows all that He has forgiven me of. Only He knows why He allowed me to do all that I did. And only He knows all that He will now accomplish through me as I surrender my life to His will. 

Today, I am a wife without children, and I see God’s goodness now by not giving me children. He knew best. I am the wife of a man who is now a Christian, and God is teaching and growing us both.

It’s funny how God can change our desires. For years, I longed for the perfect life and fulfillment outside of God. I wanted to be a wife and a mother, but I now see my first desire should have been to be a child, a child of God.

The beauty is that I now serve a God who will not let my choices go unredeemed. And I’m leaning into Paul’s words in Philippians 1:6, where he says, “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.”

If you are wrestling with guilt over bad decisions you have made, my life is a testimony to the fact that you, too, can experience his saving grace. Nothing you’ve done can outrun the grace of God. He still loves you, and He is waiting for you.

Trust Him.