Last Friday I was out with my oldest daughter. It was a very rare occasion where just the two of us spent some time together. By the time I had dropped her off and driven all the way across town to my house, it was past 10 pm.
I walked into the house. Not a single light was on. It was eerie quiet. My children were in bed. Asleep.
I sat at the kitchen table and gratefulness washed over me, and it occurred to me that I could have stayed out even later.
I did not have to rush home anymore because there was a babysitter waiting or because I had to pick up my kids at a friend’s house… I did not have to feel bad for staying out past the agreed upon times. And I did not have to feel anxious or stressed because an event had run longer and now I had to face the accusatory looks that I would often get when picking up my kids.
For the first time I felt freedom from this burden of constant guilt I had carried for over 20 years. I sat at my kitchen table and thanked God for getting me through these 20+ years of single-motherhood.
I am a walking miracle, I am living proof of God’s promises in Scriptures. My Bible is marked up with promise after promise. Not just letters on the page, no, fulfilled promises! Like this one:
“…Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you! See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands…” Isaiah 49:15-16
Peace washed over me, a peace I knew came from God. A peace from knowing He had never left my side, He had never forgotten.