I didn’t plan to get pregnant out of wedlock. Yet there I was, single and the mother of a baby girl. Life seemed to be lunging forward – taking me places I was not prepared to go. I succumbed to a world of diapers, breastfeeding and looming responsibilities.

To my way of thinking, I had become one of the many faceless women in our nation who were to be pitied. Now, the reality is that there are a vast number of noble single moms – gentle and loving women who make the most of a difficult situation. In my brain though, the label single mom not only marked me as a thing to be pitied, but also flung me into a maze of meaningless statistics – all saying the same thing: My life is worthless now.

What do I do?

Tears came easily. Depression beckoned. Self-pity screamed out for my attention.

The sin I committed reached far beyond forsaking my purity. My moral demise began much earlier, when I chose to worship an idol. No, I didn’t kneel down to any statues. My idol was myself. I had put my desire for a man’s love above God’s desire for me. I simply did not trust Him. I didn’t really believe God would give me the desires of my heart. I didn’t really believe that He loved me or that He would provide security.

I was raised in a good, Christian home, and had gone to church since the dawn of man, but in the midst of the greatest test of my life, I threw faith away. I gave up. I doubted, and I ultimately failed.

I thought God didn’t know what I needed – I did. And so I made poor choices. Everything I did revealed that I had become my own god.

Wrestling with God

I later discovered what a poor god I turned out to be. There I was, just another statistic that testified to mediocrity, to moral failure and to a severe lack of integrity. And I was angry – at everyone and everything. That anger poisoned every thought, every conversation and every relationship I had.

But the greatest battle I was fighting was not with a man, not with my family, not with society – not even with myself – but with God. My raging at God went from, "How could You let this happen to me?" to "I’ll never be good enough for Your love now! I wouldn’t blame You if You gave up on me." No matter how many times I told Him I wasn’t worth the effort, He responded with, I will never stop pursuing you, for you are Mine. Now and forever.

One of the most heartrending realities was this: In spite of all I did to turn my back on Jesus, He extended grace even as I experienced the real life consequences of my decision. And He gave me the gift of a beautiful baby girl. There she was – perfect, adorable. And despite my self-loathing, I couldn’t deny that her little face was a reflection of God’s goodness and mercy.

Beyond stereotypes

In time I realized that God, unlike me, is true to His promises. In Hebrews, when He promised that He would never leave me nor forsake me, He meant it. When He promised in Philippians that He would finish the good work He had begun in me, He meant it. He was there when my heart shattered to pieces. He was there through all the poor choices and the tears of regret. He was there when I asked Him to forgive me.

Finally, after accepting the mercy only He could give, I was able to bask in His love and His perfect gifts. To God, I am not a statistic, a number or an oops of creation. I am His precious child. Jesus paid the price for my sin long ago. His perfect love reaches beyond stereotypes and statistics, time and space, even beyond my own choices, to touch my heart and draw me back into His arms – back to where I belong.

© 2009 Focus on the Family. All rights reserved. International copyright secured. Used by permission.

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