The other day a friend was telling me about her childhood. Although there was no trace of self pity or resentment, the bare bones facts were material for child neglect. Her mother was an alcoholic who rarely shopped or cooked or cleaned, never taught her how to bathe and brush the rat's nest of her hair, and certainly never helped her with
homework. She did not express love by either touch or words. My friend figured out how to get food at the grocery store on her parent's tab and eat out of a can. By middle school she was working and wandering unsupervised
. Her father, who was sober, distanced himself from her, preferring his sons instead. It was as if she did not exist to him.
Yet she says she was
happy. She thought this was normal. She married as young as she could and was an incredibly dedicated mother in contrast to her own. She finally left her husband after he had a public affair that was thrown in her face. Without a dime of child support she worked three jobs to support her children and loved them fully.
As an adult she is one of the most generous, playful and smiling people
I know. To be with her is to see service and honesty in action.
Another quality that shows up is that she is unhindered by fear. If she loses her job, she finds another. If someone needs financial help, she gives it. If it seems likely she may lose her house, she'll live elsewhere. She has seen some of life's darkest corners and persevered. There is a tenacity about her that leaves me humbled.
Later that day I taught sewing to a group of children whose home life is, well, perfect. Their conscientious parents give them structure, affection, healthy food and laughter every day. All television is carefully monitored, friends are supervised and bedtime comes with stories and kisses. They are given enough but not too much, taught responsibility yet are not over burdened.
I was stumped. The contrast was too much for my feeble brain to comprehend. How is it that a person can rise above their circumstances and thrive? Why bother trying to be a good mother? Don't I need to pack as many good memories as I can into my children's short lives to empower them for a bleak and unpredictable future? How could my friend have become such a generous person when she herself was given so
little?
There is a story in Samuel in which Jonathan and his armor bearer climb up the hillside to attack the enemy. There are two of them, going up against twenty. But Jonathan believes.
For nothing restrains the Lord from saving by many or by few.
1 Samuel 14
I suppose I could be as trusting.
