“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
    for his steadfast love endures forever!” 

–Psalm 118:1

This I practice. This I believe. This I have experienced in my now seven decades on this earth. 

“For you formed my inward parts;
    you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
    my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
    intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
    the days that were formed for me,
    when as yet there was none of them.” 

–Psalm 139:13-16

In retrospect, this is indeed how I feel about my life from the beginning—confirmation to me that God gives our days. That’s not to say that life has been easy. My life was far from a little girl’s dream come true. No fairy tale. But it was a wonderful love story, planned and authored by my Creator Himself. 

 Isn’t it strange that we ask our children to tell us what they would like to be, who they would like to marry, or what they would like to own? In doing that, I think we encourage them to dream a selfish dream of a life they will never have. Our peace and happiness does not come from what we desire unless our desire is for the Lord. That can be a hard thing for a child or an adult to grasp.

But there in Genesis after God created each thing, He said that it was good. No doubt after each new child He has created is born, He speaks the same words. Inside the heart of every child, He has made a space that only He can fill; and it falls to us as parents to teach our children to recognize their need of Him, the most valuable gift we can give them. One that should consume our time with our children.

I was taught about God from early on. For that I am grateful. I have fond memories of the place of my childhood, which included a God that had created the beauty all around me, a God that gave me a mother and father, a brother and three sisters. I was filled to the brim with joy, love, and peace back then. I grew up on a small farm in northeastern Ohio, a safe place for me as all children’s homes should seem to them. 

There was a big rock in the middle of the pasture which we creatively named “Big Rock.” I loved to crawl up on top of it and lay down to gaze up at the sky. Watch the clouds floating by. There were two big trees in the front yard. A tall trunked pine tree and a maple tree. The sun made shadows of them all day on the spacious front lawn, and their shadows would become roads for my tricycle. I made up stories as I travelled them. Sometimes I was the mailman. Sometimes they were Main Street of the small village nearby and I shopped at the stores. Imagination is an awesome gift.

Every night before bed, Mom read me a Bible story. She never missed. The full-page color pictures in the story book fascinated me. In simple faith, I believed in the God we were reading about. We had a piano and we girls were all taught how to play. After dinner, we often gathered around the piano and sang while one of my sisters played. Music was a big part of my childhood, and hymns and gospel songs were most familiar. We sang what our hearts felt. 

One particular vacation Bible School we had to memorize Romans 3:23—“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” I decided right then to stop sinning because it hurt God when I sinned, and I didn’t want to hurt God. I wanted to be good. Everyone liked children and people who were good. I wanted to be liked. 

From time to time, I shared a room with one of my older sisters, all of whom were many years older than me. Often they talked to me about grown up things. My oldest sister especially always told me what was going on in her life. The last thing she would do every night was stand at the window looking out into the quiet, starlit darkness. Once I asked her what she was doing and she said she was praying. I thought that was an especially good idea, so I began doing the same. I can remember the sound of the cows lowing in the nearby pasture while I prayed. The nighttime was so beautiful to me, and God seemed so near.

As I grew older, God became quite personal. I soon realized I really was a sinner, and sinned no matter how hard I tried not to. Although I knew that Jesus had died for my sins, I heard it so much that it became more of a platitude. Something I accepted without much thought or consideration. In the quiet of my room, I prayed to Jesus to forgive my sins and to save me. Now I would not go to hell. I never actually told anyone of that prayer, but I knew church lingo well and no one questioned that I was “saved.” 

I loved being involved in church activities, the youth group and the music especially. But at school, I wanted to be accepted as a cool kid—not a religious fanatic. I convinced myself that I would attract far more people to Christ by good behavior and kindness, rather than being “preachy” or speaking “Christianese.”  I prayed to have friends and remain “good” and obedient to God.

By my senior year, I had made it. I felt I was pretty popular. I was in a lot of activities. I was having fun and I didn’t compromise any of my values to get there. Toward the end of my senior year, the reality of life set in. In the form of death. First, two sisters from my high school that I knew well enough, died in a car accident. Just before we graduated, another accident claimed the life of a popular underclassman. It was a small high school with less than 500 students, and it was a disconcerting experience for everyone. We seemed too young to be confronted with our mortality. We knew these kids. They were our friends and had hopes and dreams just like we all did. Then, a couple months after graduation, one of our own classmates drowned. He had been a good friend whom I had also had a crush on. 

I had not really developed strong Christian friendships, so I asked God to send me to a Christian college. I ended up at Asbury College in Wilmore, Kentucky.  I transitioned in easily, and right away found that core group of close Christian friends. Now, I had peers who not only shared my faith but with whom I could also have fun. I was safe. We had Bible studies and we prayed together, and I was growing as a Christian. I wanted to share Christ with the kids back at home so no one else would die without knowing Him. I arranged for my friends to come speak in my hometown as a “witness team” that the college sent out. It was during this time in my life that I realized God was using Scripture to speak to me.

I had to drop out of college for a time because I was sick with mono. It left me anxious and depressed, with a dreaded feeling that I was not to go back to the Christian college because I felt like I wanted a career of writing, preferably news reporting. That college didn’t offer those things. Back home in my room, I began to pray for direction. Suddenly Proverbs 3:5-6 ran through my head. Word for word: 

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart;

and lean not on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge him,

and he shall direct your paths.”

I didn’t even know where in the Bible it was. I knew I had read it. I was pretty positive I had never intentionally memorized it, but there it was. Exactly. This experience drew me deeper into God’s Word, and confirmed and strengthened my trust in Him. Eventually, I decided I would go to a university near the college that I had attended, where all my friends still were, to finish my education. There, God provided off-campus housing with my sister and her family, and introduced me to even more Christian friends as well as some who were not, but good friends all the same. I wanted to please them all.

While life had been relatively happy and care free, I chose to go to New York City after college graduation to what I hoped would be a wonderful and important job. Perhaps all my dreams of career and romance would now come true. What really happened though, is that the self-fulfilling life I had dreamed about never materialized. I thank God for that now. Because only He remained faithful, and that became clear to me as I began my own manipulative tactics to get what I wanted by becoming more and more what the world wanted.

For the next decade, I lived in the Queens Borough of New York City. I worked for an organization that called itself Christian, but what they said and what they did were quite different. People I trusted took advantage of me. I frequented people and places I should not have. I felt like Abram’s Sarai must have in Genesis 12, saying I was related to Christ while living like and with the foreign idol worshippers. 

My Bible reading, church attendance, and prayer life diminished, though not entirely. Prayers were more likely to be requests for what I wanted or for me to not give in to sin—instead of not associating with it in the first place. I wanted the praise of both God and the world. God did not distance Himself from me even then. I distanced myself from Him. He was always within calling distance.

Even though I never got a job with a big network or a well-known newspaper like I had envisioned, I was successful in my work and I enjoyed it. It was exciting living in New York, being able to go to the theater and concerts, see the sights, and eat in fine restaurants. Dating was fun, too. It was just that I found I was giving pieces of myself away in exchange for nothing. My shame grew after an abortion, even though almost every one of my girlfriends had had one—even some of my Christian friends. I tried to cover my shame by again trying not to sin, all the while searching desperately for love.

The man I married swept me off my feet. I rushed into a marriage with him, soon becoming pregnant. For the first time, I felt truly loved by a man and I didn’t want to lose that feeling. We both agreed it was time to settle down and bring our children up knowing God, so we became involved in a Bible-believing church. Marriage was a completely different lifestyle, and although I loved it, I had pre-set expectations of my husband’s role—who I thought often didn’t meet them—and my own role, which I thought I was fulfilling almost perfectly. These expectations were based on a loose interpretation of Scripture taken out of context. But that is about how meaningful my Bible reading had become at that point. Meanwhile, I was pretty positive I was close to being a Bible scholar.

I found much joy in motherhood. I still remember clearly the incredible and who-can-adequately-put-into-words feeling of each of our seven babies being placed in my arms for the first time. Our eyes meeting—examining one another in an instant bond. Touching their smooth skin, counting their fingers and toes, running my palm over their fuzzy heads, smelling them. How I thanked God for them from that day of birth, and still do in amazement of who they have become. The joy of caring for them, getting to know them, watching them grow. Motherhood involves so much gratitude and trust in God. I knew I could not give them or do for them what they needed without God’s help and strength. I urged them then and I urge them now to hold fast “to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain” (Philippians 2:16).

Although living in New York was an amazing time for me, both before and after marriage there were many instances where God kept me safe from evil that was all around me. I’ve written about some of this in other blogs and will continue to write more; but I look back now and think, how was it that I and my children were never harmed by some of the people that came into our lives, or the circumstances around us. God’s arm of protection always encircled us through the prayers of our loved ones and Christian friends, pastors, and churches who loved us and ministered to us. It was God who led us from place to place. He was using everything, even the hard and questionable things, to show me Who He was and redeem my broken relationship with Him. 

After twenty-two years of marriage and a lot of moves, infidelity, and other contributing factors, our marriage ended. And that brought me to my knees. I no longer was loved by my husband—an impossibility to me. There was nowhere else to turn but back to a faithful Savior who stood by me so obviously during that time, while the rest of my world collapsed. I could see how He had prepared me and provided for me even while I felt I was being pulling apart. His presence was so real, His call to acknowledge Him in all my ways so clear. 

His Spirit moved me to repent of my enormous pride and self-righteousness, and gave me for the first time, a clear understanding of what Jesus had done for me on the cross. My goodness was nothing more than filthy rags. My strength was a poverty of weakness. My pride was mere shame in front of this gracious God. My sin had nailed Jesus to the cross, and He had risen to give me a new life. A life I didn’t deserve. I prayed that my children would not miss the things I was learning. I wanted them to see that it was God who was getting us through this difficult time. I wanted them to understand that their mom was now completely reliant on Christ. That all of these trials were being used by God for our good (Romans 8:28).

Praise God, they have. They have each placed their faith in Christ. Their spouses, too. Now with my 20th grandchild on the way, I am happy to say that every one of them is being raised in a Christian home. Not perfect homes. Not by perfect people. Not homes free of problems. But it is a remarkable tribute to Almighty God that they have become the people they are. Impressive careers, beautiful homes, blessed abundantly and loving the God who first loved them. Yet, I pray Ephesians 1:16-20 daily for each of them and their children—and myself. That we all without exception, would first prioritize to seek and know God and love Him more deeply.

My oldest child was in college when I became a single mother. My youngest was in kindergarten. I had been out of the professional work force for two decades, only doing child care in my home. Still, I quickly found a job in Christian publishing. There God continued to instruct me through the books I was working with. I still freelance for a Christian publisher, indexing and sometimes checking the scripture references in a book. Countless times, I have been struck by the scriptures the work is bringing to my attention. How they address exactly what God wants me to see at that particular moment!

Even though that first job in publishing ended, God moved me into another area I would never have gone by myself. I really wouldn’t have wanted to. It wasn’t glamourous, it was difficult, and it didn’t pay well. The last eleven years of my career, I served as the Executive Director of two different pregnancy resource centers. I certainly was qualified by my life experience, but here also God used particular gifts He’d given me to serve Him. All I have to say now is what a rewarding job! What a privilege to serve God with the boards, staff, and volunteers in those places. I am thankful for the wide spectrum of brothers and sisters in Christ that God has consistently brought into my life.

“In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth” (Ephesians 1:7-10). This is what I have come to know in my seven decades of life. This is life! 

I am so thankful for my life that originated in the mind of God.  I look back and all those different parts of my life are so distant now, they seem like someone else’s life. I am no longer the child Susan, the student Susan, the wife and young mother Susan, the single mother Susan, or the professional Susan. I am simply, Susan, child of God. I have felt His love throughout every part. I am grateful for these last years on earth, whatever they hold. I am grateful to be writing now, telling of God’s ongoing work in the lives of some of His other children. But in the not-too-distant future, there will come the long-awaited part, stepping into the arms of Jesus. Totally safe forever. That’s when life will really begin.