
Being a parent is hard work. Regardless of the situation, it’s never simple. It is down in the trenches kind of work and not for the faint of heart. My kiddos have grown up without their father around, and because of that, I’ve come head to head with a large helping of criticism and judgment. I’ve been well aware of the statistics against me since the beginning and have been pretty consistently reminded by everyone else along the way. Increased risks of poverty, poor school performance, incarceration. All were associated with living with a single mom. The mom’s have increased risk of depression and anxiety to go along with that. I was reminded almost every time that one of the kids had an issue that I was just a single mom and how because of that, my kids were going to turn out awful. Add to that with the health issues my youngest experiences, and I’ve heard the statement “well, you can’t expect much from a single mom” more times than I can stand.
Every time I’d hear one of those comments, I would instantly feel all the shame and anger and guilt again. Every time I felt overwhelmed, or my checking account zeroed out, it all came rushing back up. Every time I felt tired, every time I took a block of time to try to recharge my battery, all I would experience was guilt. I was constantly afraid of being looked at like I wasn’t working hard enough or that I fit into any stereotype, of being put into a box.
It’s this very perception and stigma and statistics that I’ve spent almost my entire adult life fighting against. Not only outside of the church but in, because you see, I’m one of those horrible sinners that wasn’t married. Unforgivable, right?
I had thought that I had put all this aside years ago.
As He does though, God reminded me that He knows me best. That although I know He forgave me and saved me and cleansed every sin, living with people is often a very different experience, and I would interpret and internalize their judgments to mean I wasn’t ever going to be free of being that person, that sinner. He reminded me that He’s been faithful and a loving father every step of the way. And he revealed to me that I’ve allowed this forgiven sin to color how I see everything. I’ve been the one fighting against these statistics and stigmas and opinions as if I was still in that prison and not actually well outside of those prison gates. Rescued by my savior.
You see, those statistics reflect a world that denies that Jesus is exactly who He says He is. And that one fact changes everything. The TRUTH is that I’m not unforgiven or irredeemable, because that would suggest He is either incapable or unwilling, neither of which is true. And that yes, even though my choices, my sin, changed the path I was on, here’s what God told me again. That it may have not been the path He would have chosen for me, but He never left. I was never ever lost. I was never alone. And there, I discovered a God so big that regardless of what path I took or where I stumbled, He was still there, and He still made another path, just for me, that leads to life and love and Him. I have never, ever lacked anything just because He is who He says He is.
So whatever consequence of sin is holding you down, even if it’s the effect of someone else’s sin or just an effect of living in a sinful world. Whatever is trying to take away your joy and trick you into thinking that you’re still in that bondage, that somehow God may forgive you but really, you’re stuck in this world alone, I’m here to tell you that nothing is further from the truth. You are precious. In Christ, you are forgiven and redeemed and whole. And ANYONE who claims to follow Him, will see that, will affirm that you are loved.
John wrote in his gospel that “Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.” (John 21:25 NIV). I could spend my life writing and never make a dent in writing down everything He’s done for me, and that kind of love changes everything. We just have to let it.

