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A Story of His Grace

by Ginevra Rose Young

(Cat's pen name)

I never felt home to be a safe place; empty rooms, too many words, not saying, "I love you." Though a child, life felt like a war, hurt came from all around, clashing and crushing. Sharp words and barbs stung, then subsided into dull aches. Robed in fear and confusion I wondered why they called this love. There wasn't just harsh words and fists, but sighs, snickers and sneers. It felt like hate.

My mother wouldn't look me in the eyes when I came with a treasure, a poem and finally a good grade. Why did she laugh at my efforts and minimize my successes? Why didn't she believe in me? And why did my dad let her hurt me?

I couldn't run physically, so I ran emotionally into darkness, into fantasy. I ran into arms that said they cared. But they lied also. In my world, love was mixed up; black was white, and home was not a haven.

In that darkness Jesus came. He took me in His arms, into His world. He loved me, He loved me, He loved me. Mother told me I was selfish and unlovable but Jesus said, "I love you with an everlasting love" (Jeremiah 31:3). She said, "No one outside our home will ever love you." Jesus loved me. She belittled my athletic achievements and threatened me with an operation to make me a boy. She'd yell, "You're ugly and disgusting; get out of my hair!" God told me I was a wonderful work of His (Psalm 139). She constantly said, "You're a clumsy fool and an awful person." He gave me grace; in so many ways He gave me grace (Ephesians 2:8a). He asked me for my love, my heart. I held on to my heart, fighting my desire to trust Him, not wanting to give it to anyone. He said, "Come home" (John 12:23b).

"I'm cutting you off from us, like an arm with a festered sore." was one of her taunts. My earthly family disowned me but my Heavenly Father told me, "You are my Child. I have given you new birth, I am your daddy" (Romans 8:15).

"But Father, I don't want to go to anyone's home, it's not safe. Home means fear and confusion."

"My home is a haven; I have gathered you as a Shepherd does His sheep and will carry you close to my heart. Come home" (Isaiah 40:11).

Jesus continued to offer me freedom (II Corinthians 3:17). "But total freedom frightens me. Bind me Lord." I found freedom within form and it felt safe. His words came to me, "Our Father has grafted you into His kingdom, His people. You were a stranger and now you have become a member of our family. You belong to our home now.'" I belonged. He gave me strength to walk to His home.

The church wasn't a mere facade but it became real as tender arms held me, words comforted me, and smiles didn't turn to sneers. Through their tender love, Jesus began healing me.

He took me to a home, like a castle in the clouds, a college where I knew no one. After days I felt a chasm in my being. I was missing something that was integral to who I was. After praying and pondering I realized I no longer felt fear. I didn't even know it had been my companion until it was gone.

. For years I fantasized that loving people existed; and in my twenties, in a fortress, they found me and loved me, strengthening me with truth and faith. They didn't just say their love with words, but they opened their hearts and homes to me, just like in my fantasies. They gave me their time, their thoughts, food, hours of talking; music like the angels, laughter and joy. On Sundays, they took me to church and to their houses. We prepared a meal and prayed together. After the dishes were cleaned, they'd say, "Stay the afternoon, listen to jazz or nap. Relax, be a part of our home." They taught me like the child I was. As I was thrust into the world I felt disowned. They called it graduation; I called it grief.

Wobbling, swaying, I found my feet, my faith and started my own home. Because I, a stranger, had been welcomed by others, I began to see how many needed a welcoming heart, a welcoming home. So, welcomed by strangers, I became a welcomer of strangers.

The man who became my husband walked into my life bringing grace and his actions showed me daily I was safe. I cried when the old fears rose up and called me to return to the bondage of my memories. My God, my new family and my husband said, "No, you are home."

God told me I had not walked through this darkness alone, that it was a part of His plan. "Dear one, I have a future and a hope for you; my purposes will prevail" (Jeremiah 29). "I don't understand," I cried while fighting Him. He said, "You must trust and obey" (Romans and John).

My burdens have eased. My love grew as I realized He had been holding me in those dark hours; even when it hurt – He held me. He said, "I will give you back the years destroyed by the enemy" (Joel 2:23-27).

I am safer now, healing but not yet whole. Dangers are out there but I know they can not destroy what He holds.

The family I trust say this home is only a shadow; that we're all

headed to our everlasting Home where there will be peace and no memory of fear. We are promised there will be no more pain, no more tears (Revelation 21:4). "Oh Father, you've given me Hope, you're taking me Home."