A Tormented Mind...
I was tormented. I knew what was right. I knew the truth. Despite that though, I felt pulled in two different directions. I was being shown one way at school, another way at home. The influences were strong and overwhelming. My mind was slowly being desensitized to the things of this world. I was tormented. And my senses were slowly deteriorating. Deteriorating to sin. To wickedness. Did I see it that way though? I felt having sex with your girlfriend or boyfriend was normal, though I was taught it was wrong at home and at church. I felt smoking weed was what everyone did (although I didn't give into that one). Partying? Just something every kid does for fun. Crude jokes? Just part of life's daily humor. The power of influence is Satan's greatest tool. In my case, that certainly rang true. Interestingly though, I saw myself as a leader though an outsider for the most part. I refused to give into drugs. Refused to try alcohol. Refused to party. Refused to smoke. Doesn't sound like a totally terrible kid, does it? Despite keeping level-headed on those things, my mind was where all the damage was taking place. Sin had defecated itself throughout my mind. It permeated it. It overtook it. It crept in so easily through the consistent, persistent, egregious, meandering of subtle lies. And I nurtured it. I didn't feel I had a choice. My mind had been subjected to trash day in and day out. How can a young, impressionable, easily influenced mind survive such an aggressive routine?
How Could I..??
All the time allowing sin to creep in and embed itself in my young life finally caught up with me. There, at 17, I found myself pregnant. I had been dating a guy for two years, and needless to say, things happened. Around the time I conceived, I would later find that it was around the same exact time I had tried to break away from him. I was in denial for at least a third of my pregnancy. Day in, day out, I kept wishing something else was going on. I *couldn't* be pregnant after all. How could I be? How could I let this happen? How could I do something so stupid? So wrong? How could I betray my parents? How could I betray God? How could I betray myself. My future. The baby inside me's future. My future husband. How could I?
Tear soaked pillow...
Every night I laid my head down on a tear soaked pillow. Mascara stains. I would flip it to the other side, only to stain that side, then wash it or cover it so no one would see. As if I didn't already feel hopeless, shameful, and dirty enough as I was prior to getting pregnant; now those emotions would nearly consume, if not nearly annihilate me for the next months. There were nights in my very immature feeble mind that I had told God to take my life; to allow me to "go" in my sleep. I couldn't live with myself. The thought of hurting my parents after they had been hurt so much already overcame me. Overcame every ounce of my soul and being. I was tormented to the core. I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel, and the tunnel was seemingly millions of miles long. It was a despondently endless, dark, hopeless, irreversible tunnel that I found myself looking through.
Not Alone but Alone...
I wasn't alone at school. In fact there were a few other girls who were seemingly walking in my shoes. Pregnant and all. They were seemingly happy though. Their parents were walking along them. They had little regret. They were preparing for the days to come with baby showers and all. Me though? I was dragging my feet through that long dark tunnel alone (for the most part); alone because I chose to be alone at that time. I'd go to school hiding my pregnancy; I'd run out of classes to go throw up in the restroom (or in the hallway) because of severe morning sickness. Why was my case so different? Perhaps God was the difference. He was getting a hold of my heart. Maybe this is what was needed to make that possible. This was just part of the process. Part of the process that needed to take place to make me whole again. He was wringing my heart. Molding it. Recreating it. Have you ever felt as though your heart was literally being squeezed? Mine was feeling that way.. It was the hands of God reaching in and gently, molding my heart; the same heart that had been damaged so many times. Little did I know God's hand would grip and mold it for years to come from that point forward. This was only the beginning. Why? Because I needed Him. At that very vulnerable, hopeless point in my young life, I had realized He was the very thing I needed. My prayer for anyone reading this, is that it doesn't take such a drastic, traumatic experience to come to this very same realization.
Silence is broken...
Days turned to months quickly. I hid my pregnancy until I couldn't hide it any longer. Night after night. Day after day. I simply walked that long, endless, dark tunnel on my own. Then the day came. A sister of mine pulled me to the side, alone, and asked that dreaded question all while knowing the answer in her mind, "Are you pregnant...?" All the days, and all the nights of walking that dark tunnel alone was changing in that precise moment. Everything around me stopped at that moment. Life stopped. Nothing moved. Nothing but the beat of my heart. I answered her, she tried to console me, and said she'd take the job of letting our parents know so that I didn't have to. A part of the weight had been lifted off my shoulders, but the fear sank in deeper as I came to the full realization that my parents would soon know. Their world would be shattered yet again. And soon after they knew, everyone would know. People they attended church with, my aunts and uncles, siblings and in-laws, my cousins, everyone at school, nieces and nephews (that I was to be a role model to), respected elders, you name it. My world, although already certainly spiraling down, was about to turn over completely.
After the news was out, and it was all said and done, that long dark endless tunnel began shining bits of light through. Surely there was an end to it if light was trying to shine its way through. Surely.
Redemption...
Those nights of tear soaked pillows turned to nights of redemption. Nights I could finally comprehend the reality of what was going on. Nights I realized that it wasn't the end. Nights I began surrendering to the Lord. Nights He made His presence known. Nights I realized that the baby growing inside of me would need every ounce of me. Every ounce of my well-being. And my well-being was dependent on my growth and dependency on God. I recited Psalm 30:5 nearly every day through that time. God was my redeemer through the darkest of nights; nights of tear soaked pillows; nights and days through that long dark tunnel. Once I started seeing bits of light shining through the end of the passage, I assumed it was God's grace shining through the end of that tunnel; it may have been His grace shining through, but it was His son who was walking me through it.
And all of that was only the beginning. It would be years of processing in my life. The stigma that follows a young unwed girl who gets pregnant follows her all the days of her life. The dirty looks. The assumption that you're promiscuous (and some may even go as far as calling you a whore). The assumption you're just a dumb young mom. The awful ongoing realization that you didn't provide the God-given natural familial structure a child should have. I know I'm forgiven, but I still feel and see the effects of a quick decision I made as a teen. Others still feel the burn in different ways as well. Others I love dearly. If I dwell too much on all that though (which I did for a long time), I can easily find myself stumbling back into that tunnel. God brought me through, and I will not go back. (I say this as a warning to others so that they know the seriousness of sin. I'm not here to tell you everything turned to peaches and cream. Sin and all the consequences that come with it is to not to be taken lightly.)
How Will You Answer?...
I'm here to tell you that you don't have to walk that awful dark tunnel alone. As long as you choose to walk it alone, the longer and darker it will seem to be. There is grace waiting for you, and there is Someone willing, hoping to walk it with you. And your tear soaked pillow is soaked for a reason. That means you're alive, despite feeling so dead inside. You're fortunate you're feeling the way you are. Many others don't feel this way; their hearts are hardened toward the Holy Spirit's conviction and calling. And let me tell you, that's a dangerous dangerous place to be. If you're feeling those heart-wrenching tugs, that means your heart is being wrung. God is working whether you know it or not. It's your choice as to how you answer Him. How you handle your situation. Will you allow Him to work in you? Walk with you? Believe me, it's not something you want to do on your own, whatever it may be that you're going through. You have two options. Will you choose to let Him do the work in your heart so that you can use what you're going through for His glory and your well-being? Or will you refuse to heed His call, walk that endless dark tunnel on your own; never finding the light; never living in the way He's calling you to? I look back, and I praise God I didn't choose to do it on my own. Oh how I would have failed miserably on my own! Oh how miserably I would've failed that precious baby I had. Failed in every capacity of my being. Most importantly, failing God.
"In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace..." Ephesians 1:7
Your redemption is calling. Please, please don't overlook it.
Truth in Love Always,
R.
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