Jessica

The kindness of the Lord leads to repentance.

As most of you know, when I was 19 yrs. old I gave birth to my oldest child. I was unwed, scared, and acutely aware of the responsibility that came with a child. I had no clue what I was doing, but unashamed to ask women I had tremendous respect for those simple, yet terribly complex questions about just what it was I was supposed to be doing with this gift of life entrusted to me, and how I was to execute this awesome new role.

Fast forward almost 2 years. I had become increasingly aware of just how broken I was on the inside, was more lonely than I had ever been, and wanted to have a "normal family" so bad I could taste it. I met a man that was easily just as broken as I was, was swept away by the dreams he had for a family, loved his ideas about being a man of integrity, in short, he was saying all the right things. Truth be known, we both were. We knew what we each wanted for our lives, but getting from point A to point Z required a journey, and obedience I couldn't fathom. You simply can't build the family I knew I wanted on talk.

I moved forward in this relationship. It was fast and furious. The relationship was not at all what we had talked about, and not one that would turn out looking remotely like either of our dreams. Within a couple of months, I found myself pregnant AGAIN, unwed, more scared and confused than I had ever been, and grappling with the reality of sexual abuse in my past. Not a good combination.

I was living with my mother at the time. She was helping me raise my oldest child, that was going well. I was unwilling to put her through another unwed pregnancy, so I made the decision to white knuckle it and say yes to the invitation to marry this man, knowing it wasn't best for either of us, but figuring we would make the best of it and scrape together some sort of life.

I was in a season of silence toward God. Honestly, I was so put out with Him. I couldn't understand WHY? on so many levels. In short, I didn't know Him. If being pregnant and scared doesn't break a silent spell with God, I don't know what will. I remember laying in my bed late one night crying out to the Lord for help. All I knew to do was confess what a mess I had made of things, and ask for help.

Within 2 weeks I miscarried this life I bore. It gave me an open door out of a messy situation. What a bitter freedom pass! Even though I knew I was in a mess, and needed out, I also knew that a human life was a gift beyond measure, and I had started building dreams during my 10 weeks or so of pregnancy.

I abruptly, and carelessly ended the relationship I was in. That left a mess that would take years before I would be able to go back and seek forgiveness for the wreckless way I mishandled another person's heart, and life plans. Time can be such a gift!

Only my mother and another friend knew I was pregnant, or had miscarried. I think that was appropriate. What this created though, was a situation where I had this grief and depression like nothing I had ever known and was continuing to function as though everything in my life was fine and was forced to duke this out with the Lord. I was suicidal for a couple of months, and thank the Lord for my oldest child. I knew I had to continue to live for him. His basic needs kept me functioning on days where all I wanted to do was crawl into the Earth and be finished. I can remember the strangely funny thought that I wanted to die, and he wanted Cheerios. What perspective!

Long before any of this happened, I had visited the family graveyard with the sister of the fellow I was involved with and began to go there to grieve. It's the most amazing place! Right on the county line, very secluded. A little country church surrounded by acres of crop land. A private place for me to spend hours each week trying to sort out the wreck I was. A great place to get to know the Lord in ways I desperately needed to know Him. A place I could be real, could cry, could cuss, could just sit on the ground and rock with empty arms, and a broken heart. A place to heal.

After about a year of going to this grave and mourning I went one day in a fit of rage, tired of it all, working with a therapist to resolve the sexual abuse and fed up. I had a royal temper tantrum. Through hot tears, I began to tell God I was finished with Him and all I thought about everything He had allowed in my life. Thankfully, He had a much grander plan for our time there that day. It was Winter. The fields were frozen over with no sign of life, the one Oak tree in the field I always looked at was bare, no birds were singing, and I was furious. I finished my rant by crying out, yelling, asking God "Where the HELL are you?". I then sat (I guess that was I was bracing myself for the Lord to strike me down and wanted the fall not to be so far or hard). I looked at the Oak tree in the distance and remember so clearly the Lord speaking right into my heart that He was RIGHT THERE. He had been the whole time, and even though I didn't see leaves on the tree, or crops covering the field, that didn't mean that they wouldn't return, and that He was JUST LIKE the Mighty Oak...THERE! The God who IS, the I AM. All I could do at that point was tell the Lord how sorry I was, and how wrong I was to judge Him. I was utterly humbled, and not finshed with Him. Not at all.

That day as I drove away, I was leaving with a renewed trust and intimacy with the Lord. One that was so fresh and life giving. One I would return to that spot time and again up to the present to remember just how large and real this God I can't see is. I learned on that day that I could be as real as I needed to be with the Lord as long as it didn't just stop with being honest. I had to go on to the truth, and not stop until I got to the truth and embraced it.

True to the Lord's character, and the redemption theme our lives carry with Christ, beside that Oak tree would later be the very spot I would say "yes" to the Dawg's invitation to marriage. What an amazing blessing, for a man to be able to embrace such a history, and value such a place.

Today marks 12 years since I lost Jessica, and I can truly say her life was not without purpose, or meaning.

Thank you Lord for giving Jessica to me, for taking her away, for stooping to save humanity for eternity, and for rescuing me from the pit I dove straight into. Thank you for eternal life, a life that starts now.