Tag: Childhood

How the light got in

On By Innermost BeingIn Spiritual Growth2 Comments

I used to think I could write a book about my scandalous childhood but not while my mother was living. I hated to see her cry and I knew my criticism would hurt her. One of my favorite Christian authors, Philip Yancey, has written a memoir, Where the Light Fell, about his difficult childhood. He did so knowing it would hurt his 96-year old mother but also knowing he had a powerful story to tell about how he came to understand suffering and grace. Although he has written numerous books on these topics, he believes “this is the one book I was put on earth to write.”

I found it hard to put the book down. It made me think about how a difficult childhood shaped me. Like the author, I grew up poor in a household headed by a single mother. Like the Yanceys, we moved frequently because we were poor. Like Philip, I had issues with how my mother raised us. I also grew up going to church regularly.

Philip was brought up in fundamentalist churches in Atlanta, Georgia. As he put it, church defined his life. He and his mother and older brother Marshall went to church a few times a week – twice on Sunday and midweek for a prayer service. His mother made money teaching Bible classes. As a child and as a Bible college student, he experienced the things that make a church toxic – 1) fear, 2) exclusion, and 3) rigidity. The God of Philip’s childhood was not a loving, forgiving God. The God he knew was “eager to condemn and punish.”

Philip’s father, a minister, died when he was only a year old so he has no memory of him. After his death, Philip’s mother vowed to dedicate her sons to God so they could fulfill her own dream of being a missionary in Africa. As Philip described it, their mother essentially took on the role of God in deciding what her boys should do with their lives. The weight of that vow and their inability to meet her expectations hung over them. Philip went through the motions of a religious life, answering the altar call, getting baptized, witnessing to others, sharing his testimony, etc. But he and Marshall were plagued with doubts about whether any of their religious experiences were real. Philip did his best to fake it.

Philip’s mother claimed to be living the Victorious Christian Life. To Philip, she had a split personality. There was the gentle mother who took care of him when he was sick and the angry mother who showed up without warning. To the church and to her Bible students, she was the devout Christian woman. At home, she was often angry, moody, and vengeful. Neither son ever had their mother’s approval but she was especially tough on Marshall. Marshall defied his mother’s will by transferring to Wheaton College (it was too liberal). She was furious and said something to him that was incredibly cruel, that she would pray for something bad to happen to him.

What beings as love may, in fact, corrode into something akin to its opposite.

Philip Yancey, Where the Light Fell

My mom grew up attending a Nazarene church in a small town in Indiana. Her father was very strict, especially with his only daughter. Perhaps that is why Mom stopped going to church? Dad took us kids to the Nazarene church every week. The congregation was small, less than twenty or thirty people. Our large family was welcomed with open arms. Pastor Don Reeves and his wife Pat were poor and lived in the church basement until they could afford to buy an old fixer-upper house. The church was an old wood-framed building that needed a lot of work and Don worked on fixing it up.

If I remember right, Pastor Don was a recovered alcoholic. He was quiet and humble. He knew the meaning of grace. Sunday school classes were in the church basement and it was there that my Sunday school teacher told me about Jesus. I never had any doubt that God loved me for who I am.

Philip Yancey didn’t know what it was like to have a father. I was twelve when my parents divorced so I knew what I was missing when Dad was gone. Besides missing Dad’s presence, I missed his stabilizing influence on Mom.

Mom was kind and generous and had a wicked sense of humor. She accepted other people for who they are and could find something to like about anyone. She was generous with compliments. We loved to hear her sing and tell us stories about her childhood. Mom found something to appreciate in each of us. We always knew we were loved unconditionally.

But being single changed Mom. She stopped being a devoted mother. Her love life came first. The summer I turned sixteen, Mom uprooted us and moved us to another small town to be closer to her new boyfriend. When Mom found out he was married, she moved us again to Topeka, claiming it was because the furnace wouldn’t keep our old house warm enough. At the end of the school year, we moved back. Mom got a job at the local plant and began a relationship with a coworker who was separated from his wife. At the end of the workday, she went home with him and left my five younger siblings with me.

Like Philip, I saw my mother as two-faced. She sometimes talked about her faith but never went to church. Whenever someone heard that she was the mother of eight, they would express their admiration. Where they saw a saint, I saw an adulteress. In my mind, Mom may as well have worn the red letter A. With every affair, with every revelation about her sexual history, I mentally threw a stone at her. I was the judgmental, self-righteous one.

Philip grew up feeling ashamed because he grew up in a strict environment and did a couple of things he knew were bad. He could be ornery and devious. I was ashamed of being on welfare after the divorce because I knew people disapproved. I worried too much about what people thought of our family. When Mom had my youngest brother out of wedlock, I was so afraid people would find out that I lied about how long my parents were divorced. (I have not gotten over this shame.)

Where the Light Fell made me appreciate the humble, Jesus-centered church I attended. It made me appreciate the flawed mother who loved me unconditionally.

I saw Philip Yancey several years ago when he came to speak at my church in a suburb of Denver. When he ended his talk, he asked us make sure that no one misses out on God’s grace. His book, What’s So Amazing About Grace? helped me see the world through grace-filled eyes. I let go of my resentment. I forgave my mother. I realized that she did the best she could. Like me, she was broken. That’s how the light gets in.

Make sure that no one misses out on God’s grace. Make sure that no root of bitterness grows up that might cause trouble and pollute many people.

Hebrews 12:15 (CEB)

Dear Younger Me

On By Innermost BeingIn Introversion1 Comment

A couple of months ago, my childhood pen pal found me on Facebook. We got together for lunch to catch up on forty years of life. Lori gave me letters that I had written to her from 1974-1976 when we would have been in the sixth through eighth grades. You wouldn’t know it from my letters, but those were tumultuous times.

Coincidentally, my sixth grade teacher wrote me a message on Facebook saying I should share a blog post I wrote about the sixth grade to show kids that time has a way of taking care of things. The world is much different than it was when I was a kid, but kids still face many of the same challenges. Sometimes I hear adults say that they would like to be a kid again. I wouldn’t want to relive my childhood unless I could do it armed with the life experience I have now. What would the adult me tell the child me if she could?


Dear Younger Me:

I usually start out my letters with “I am fine. How are you?” I won’t ask how you are because I already know. I’m writing to let you know that although you have a bumpy road ahead of you, you will come out of it pretty much unscathed. Someday you’ll even be able to look back on these years without a feeling of angst.

If you feel like you don’t fit in right now, you are not alone. Shy people like you aren’t popular. You aren’t cool. You won’t be a star athlete; you won’t even have the opportunity to try out for the team. That’s okay. It is not unusual to feel like a misfit in school – look at all the movies that have been written about this! Yet kids who feel like misfits still grow up to be amazing, successful, functional adults.

Speaking of fitting in, I have to warn you that people are determined to force square pegs to fit in round holes even though there are slots that fit square pegs perfectly. People will try to change you into something that you are not. They already tell you to speak up, to be more social. It’s not working, is it? They have been calling you bashful and shy since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. The labels tell you that you are different; that you are not what you’re supposed to be. All it does is make you feel like there is something wrong with you. There isn’t.

Someday, you will find your tribe. You’ll discover that there are millions of people like you. Introverts are awesome! You’ll find a job that makes the most of your strengths. But in the meantime, you’ll have to put up with the pressure to conform to the “extrovert ideal.” You’ll have to participate in activities that were designed for extroverts – things that fill you with dread and anxiety. It won’t be easy but you have to get out of your comfort zone once in a while. Facing your fears will make you even stronger!

I know that you are embarrassed and ashamed of being poor. Things are also a bit crazy at home. Take a walk in someone else’s shoes. You’re not the only one from a “broken” home. Unless you see the bruises, you don’t know what another child is going through. Count your blessings. 

You already know that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. But you have let a few snobby people convince you that your worth is determined by social status – how much money your parents have, the clothes you wear. They are wrong! (I’m going to let you in on a secret: you’ll be able to afford nice things when you grow up but you won’t even want them.)

The hardships you face today will teach you an invaluable lesson. Your worth is defined by the content of your character. Period. So be honest. Be reliable. Always do your best. Go the extra mile. Treat other people the way you want to be treated. You will regret a lot of things in your life, but you will never regret being kind.

There’s one more thing I want to bring up before I close. Your mom. Over the next few years, she’s going to frustrate the heck out of you. You won’t understand her choices. You’ll spend years trying to understand why she does the things she does. You don’t realize how young she is and how much weight she has on her shoulders. The only thing you need to know is this: she loves you and she’s doing the best she can. Give her a big hug for me, okay?

Your friend always,

Cathy

P.S. U-R 2-Nice 2-B 4-gotten

My sixth grade teacher is right. Time changes things. Forty-three years ago, I would not have shared what I write with strangers. In one of my letters, I wrote about something upsetting that happened in Reading class. My teacher asked me for all of the stories I had written. She had a committee of my peers read them to select one to put in the newspaper. I was mad because I didn’t want my stories to be published! I was very self-conscious and hated being the center of attention.

Time certainly changed my perspective on the struggles of my childhood. They say that adversity builds character. Perseverance. Determination. Empathy. If I could go back and relive my childhood, would I be willing to trade some measure of adversity for some measure of character building? No, I wouldn’t. Painful memories fade. The lessons you learn in a “hard knock life” last forever.