Through a Mother’s eyes… 11/29/2011

You see standing before you today a person that has a finely polished veneer.  I have worked for years to perfect the image that seemed so very important.  I have love Christ for many years.  I have had the example of Christ in my family my whole life, and to anyone who would listen, I proclaim my love of Christ.  However, oddly enough, the person I wanted to pattern my life after seemed to be June Cleaver.  You know the Cleaver family from the 50’s.  Mrs. June Cleaver kept a perfect house.  She dressed in clothes that stated she was well pulled together.  She cooked a six course meal each and every night.  And most importantly to me, she was able to fix the problems of her children completely in the time frame of 30 minutes, including 12 minutes of commercials.    Sometimes without even getting the help of Ward.

However, just like June Cleaver, I was playing a part.  Under that polished smile, and perfect family, I was hiding the fact that I am the mother of a victim of abuse.  When my darling son was just 8 years old, he came forward and told me that he had been sexually abused by an older boy who lived at the children’s home where we worked.  Thank God he it was not a family member, the pain of that would be tenfold, but, even though it was someone who was not in our life, it was a blow like none other I have ever known.

I remember it like it was yesterday.  I had just put my son and his sisters to bed, and his dad was dozing on the couch.  I was puttering around doing all my June Cleaver things, and Clint got out of bed and said “I need to talk to you.”  I sat down in my chair, and he came and sat on my knee.  He looked me in the eye and told me that he had been abused.  That is when the world gets fuzzy, and I don’t remember quite what I said at that point.  But I do remember waking his dad with a shrill command, and having him repeat his story.  His dad and I were in shock.  That is when our sweet precious boy began to change.  For four long years he had never let on that there was even a problem.  But once it was out…he could not keep from falling in a very deep dark hole.  Before long, he was in a place that scared us very badly.  We began seeing a counselor, and it was very difficult for all of us.  Weeks of inpatient care, and follow up counseling, and a move HOME, gave us all the courage to go on with our lives.

I might like to say and “Happily Ever After” right here, but that is not where our story ends.  Clint went on, and no one outside our very close knit circle knew.  That was my goal, to keep my perfect family image perfect.  And I might add, that I was masterful at my job.  When Clint wanted to talk about it we hugged him, and held him, and told him he was fine.  We convinced him that no one could ever know, after all, what would people think?  In our little town, we had a status to uphold, and this was not a part of our image.

It became my job to make sure that he was fine because of me.  I would let him know when he had a problem, and he had already dealt with this and moved through it….just ask me!  He was fine!  But the reality was that he was developing a veneer too.  He was slick and shiny on the surface, but angry and black underneath.  He was mad, and he was not sure who to be mad at….so he was mad at God.  And still, I didn’t listen.  It is truly as if it never happened, at least to his dad and me.  For Clint it was ever so real.  And so began many years of a struggle.

And for my daughters, they were really left out of the biggest heart ache in our family.  For my older daughter, she must have wondered if this all really happened, or did she just dream this, because we never talked about it.  And for our youngest child, we protected her until she was 21, and learned it accidently.  When she found out, it made her feel very left out and untrustworthy!  Almost like she was living in a family she did not even know.

I now know that Clint was an atheist.  He did not believe a true God would let him struggle and hurt in this manner.  But I could not allow one of MY children to claim to have no faith in God.  So for all his teen years we played the game.  On Sunday we went to church.  On Sunday night he attended youth group, at every opportunity he was at church.  That does make you a Christian…right? I guess it does in the same way that standing in a garage makes you a car!  On top of everything else, his mother was very busy trying to save him.  Making sure all is well with his soul.  But guess what?  It was not well.  Not with his soul, and not with my soul.

And so…without my input, Clint had a true God experience.  He was working on the railroad at the time.  He was staying with us, and when it was almost time for Easter, he agreed to accompany us to a Good Friday Service at our church.  The youth worked with our pastor, and both our other daughters were a part.  Clint sat by me, and the room darkened.  Then a single light came on by the pulpit.  One by one the youth went to the front, and told, as a member of Christ’s most inner circle, about how his crucifixion changed them.  Mary, Mary Magnalin, and all the apostles shared how they must have felt.  Then, when they found the tomb empty, then the church went black.  And at the same time, all our hearts felt black too.  Then the youth started lighting candles one by one through the congregation, while the song “Let it Be” began to play.  The power of that moment was so deep, and so real, and so powerful, that there was not a dry eye in the room.  And it was a realization that Christ is alive and well, and living in every heart that accepts him.

At that very moment…Christ pierced Clint’s heart.  He knew what his future held, and it was not the railroad.  After struggling with the realization, he finally told his dad and me that he was quitting.  He returned to school, and majored in Religion and Greek.  He began to work with local youth groups, and so his ministry began.  And now, God is using Clint in a big and mighty way.  He is busy daily sharing Christ with college students, and the blessings that Christ has bestowed on my son are amazing.  He has a beautiful Godly wife, a precious son, and a life that can only be given by Christ.

And so came the realization that I am not in charge of my son’s heart. That news did not bring relief at first.  The years of trying to keep our secret was a habit.  And, also, there was a fear that if I was not in charge that Clint might feel the need to begin to tell his story.  Wow…Really??  Yes, sadly, that is how I felt.  So for about 6 years, I have tried to keep my sweet son quiet.  Obviously, it did not work.  And now I thank God for that.  There is no telling how many hearts Clint has set on the road to healing, through Christ.  And that could not happen if he listened to his mother.  Thank you God for a son with a heart for you!

And so for the first time ever, I have allowed God to deal with me on this issue.  I have quit telling God how OK I am, and I have allowed Christ to start to love me and heal me through this pain.  After 20 years, it is about time I “Let go and let God!”  This summer, I began to pray that God would truly use me.  The first thing he did was give me the opportunity to teach a bible study at church.  Wow a blessing!! “Big girls don’t Whine,” and if you have not read this book….treat yours self and pick one up!!   The next thing I did was to read “Crazy Love” and God began to move in me in a mighty way!  First, I was able to teach another bible study on “Crazy Love,” then we were invited to a banquet for the Pregnancy Resource Center.  Both my husband and I felt much moved to join the fight for unborn babies.  We began the training, and spent the next six weeks learning how much love is needed in an unplanned pregnancy.

And there, is where my story comes full circle.  In the training for the pregnancy resource center, I learned how many people are pregnant because their lives have been centered on sexual abuse.  How many people do not know how to love or receive love correctly and safely?  It is huge!    I am learning the great need of people to come forth and share how much God can heal your heart no matter how big the hurt.  And no one can comfort the victim of abuse like another victim.  And no one knows the pain a mother is feeling like another mother.  And so God has finally pierced my heart.  And I understand the need that Clint felt.

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