Why can't we let Him love us?

I have and continue to work with  people whose souls are damaged from childhood wrong
impressions about God which have led to guilt,  shame and blame about their past.  Result: struggles in believing that God loves them unconditionally.  Perhaps my honesty about my own journey will shed some Light on what may be causing you soul-pain. That is my intent.

I shared with you last week that I was a child left to figure out life by myself because of the terrible circumstances caused by our nation's being at war on two fronts, the slow, agonizing death of my grandmother,  and the heartbreaking responsibilities forced upon my parents. My family was barely surviving.

Against her parents' wishes, my mother had eloped and married my dad, an unbeliever. My mother, a trained singer, had a couple of years of college, which was very unusual for a farmer's daughter in those days. When her father's death required that she and my dad move to the farm, Mother slipped into barely coping with her lot in life.  She hated the farm.  It was a miserable place. Her dreams of pursuing a musical career as a city woman were over.   Early on, I took on the responsibility of making life better for my mother.

Not much of my early story is pretty. I can choose to gussie it up but the parts I omit might be the very parts that will shed Light on the dark places in your soul.  When I was a little girl my only boy cousin and a neighbor boy came at different times to play during the hot, humid summers.  Both of these "nice little boys" tried to tempt me into having sex with them.  The parents of these "nice little boys" were highly respected by my parents. Because both parents and boys were so "nice" it had to be my fault that these ugly temptations were happening.  I was ashamed. I told no one. When I was a sophomore, a woman English teacher liked me and complimented me all the time on my class work.  This woman was respected in my school. I naively invited her to come for an overnight visit to our farm. Of course we slept in the same bed for our little farmhouse had no guest room. In the middle of the night she began to make whimpering noises and slid over beside me, putting her arm around me.  I believe God's angels, even though I had no clue who "God" was,  moved me over to the very edge of the bed as far away from her as I could get.  She backed off.   Matthew 18:10 confirmed my thoughts on this later in life.  I was ashamed. I told no one.  The thrumming question in my young mind  was: "What is wrong with me that three girls call to tell me they hate me  (Check out last week's blog.) and  boys and a teacher try to have sex with me?  It's got to be my fault."

My brothers were ten and eleven years older than I;  therefore I thought they were "right" about everything.  Both were belitterers, demeaning and cynical.  I was an adult before I stopped setting myself up to be wiped out by their words.

During my school years,  inclement weather and muddy roads prevented my being able to get home to the farm on many nights.  I stayed in town, making it quite possible to hide the fact from my parents that I was going to the movies with some boy.  It was widely accepted then that only trashy girls "went all the way" but I was soon to find out that the same expectations were not placed on boys. I was beginning to believe that all boys were gross and all girls were goofy.  I was becoming cynical, just like my family. ...except for my Grandmother. After her death, my dad began to drink heavily and my mother's reactions to his drinking went through the roof.  It affected my respect for my dad deeply when I saw him drunk. By this time I had a PhD. in saying nothing about everything that was troubling me.  Like every child, I needed parental guidance and protection. There was none so I clenched my teenage fist and protected myself.  To this day, I sometimes feel my hand beginning to form into a fist, especially around arrogant, overbearing men who try to hide their disrespect for women, thinking I am so stupid I can't see right through them.

After graduation from high school, my dad had no money to send me to college, nor did he think it necessary. There were no scholarships then.  I wheedled enough money out of him for tuition to a business college in Salina, a city nearby.  I worked for a radio station that trained men to be radio announcers.  I dated a different guy at least once a week and soon realized  I was in the "big leagues". These were not small town boys that backed off when I said a firm "No!" All this time Ted, my boy friend,  was in the Navy.  I never told him I was dating other guys, but actually would come in from a date and write him a love letter.  I told myself I wasn't lying, but it was o.k. to hide what I knew would get me in trouble.  I carried a boatload of guilt about my deception. Upon graduating from the business college,  I got a secretarial job on the campus of Kansas State College, dated a couple of jocks that hung around the athletic office where I worked, and...Whammo!! Christ rescued me, and I suspect just in time before I flushed my stand about no sex before marriage down the toilet. Do not think for one moment that I am nurturing pride about what a good girl I was.  I was a sinner who needed to be made righteous by Christ's substitutionary payment for my sin. ...but up until this point, I had never even heard His Name.  I had simply whiffed his Lovely Fragrance through my Grandmother.

That's the short version. What baggage did I carry into my new life?  Mistrust of pretty much everybody. ... especially of myself.  When I invited Him in, I could barely manage to open my heart's door even a crack.  Now, perhaps you have some insight as to why my arms and heart are open to so many who have a hard time believing that our dear Lord Jesus Christ loves them unconditionally. As I said last week, our Lord is very economical.  He utilizes everything!

O.K., you who keep raggin' on me to put my story in a Book:  I like to make people happy, but I am not ready to make you that happy.  This was only the Introduction. Chapter I comes next week and that's when my Real Life began!

Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so
Little ones to Him belong. We are weak, but He is strong.

Love, Jo