She Showed Me Who I Am

I still remember the first time I met her. We were in a Bible Study together. I didn’t get to know her very well but she made a big impression on me. She knew God. She knew Him in a way I wanted to know. You could see Him in her, in her answers, in the way she carried herself. I knew then she was someone I wanted to know. Someone I wanted to be like. And like so many before her I thought I would just watch her from a distance.

Months would pass by before I came into contact with her again. This time she was leading a study called Beloved of God. I sat there week after week just absorbing the truth she shared. She walked us through truth after truth about who we are in Christ. That He calls us beloved. He called ME beloved. She shared how God collected our tears in a bottle. He collected my tears, each and every one of them. I remember sitting there thinking it must be a pretty big bottle. The tears I have cried over the years were numerous.

That study planted seeds that would eventually blossom into a woman who could see and accept that she was beloved of God and precious to Him. But I would walk a hard road before I could completely embrace who I am in Christ.

During this same time I was meeting with our assoc. Pastor for counseling. I remember sharing parts of my life with him and saying that I really believed that somehow God was going to use it all. He asked me if I had met Sally. Well I knew who she was but we had never really talked. He encouraged me to meet with her. It took many weeks before I was brave enough to call her and ask her to meet me for lunch. She was a woman I wanted to know but figured she would never really be my friend.

It’s funny how we make assumptions about people before we ever really meet them. I wonder how many relationships I’ve missed out on because I just assumed they wouldn’t want to know me. My view of myself was so skewed that most of the time I just knew women like her would never really be my friend. They wouldn’t want to know me and even if they did know me they would abandon me. Oh yes, I had issues! Don’t we all?

The day came to meet with Sally and I instantly loved her. A woman so filled with the grace of God. A woman filled with so much love. But still something deep within me said to hold back. Don’t let her know the real you. The dark side of who you are. It was that deep part of me I so often held in a safe place where people wouldn’t see. I couldn’t let them know who I really was.

As time moved on Sally and I would come into contact every now and then. We’d attend the same Bible Studies. We emailed back and forth quite often but not much face time. I remember shortly after I took on the leadership of women’s ministry Sally came to me and said that she felt that God had knitted our hearts together and she wanted to come along side me to encourage me as I learned to lead. I had barely gotten to know her over the last two years and she wanted to mentor me? Come along side me? Why? I didn’t understand what God was up to but I did know I needed help! I needed the wisdom and experience that she could give me.

From that moment on God began doing a work in me that I didn’t even know I needed! God used her to touch parts of my heart that I thought were long dead and buried. As time went on I would share parts of my story with her that no one knew. Her love and acceptance of me never changed. I shared some of the ugliest parts of me with her. She just continued to show me love and grace.

Do you know what she did? No matter what I told her, no matter how awful I thought it was, she would remind me of who I was today. She would constantly remind me of who I am in Christ. No matter how ugly I thought I was she would hold up a mirror and show me who she saw. She saw a beautiful woman who was beloved of God. She kept telling me the truth of who I am until it finally sunk in. She didn’t give up on me.

Even now, 10 years later, if I forget who I am in Christ she will remind me. There are so many ways she has impacted my life. I have written about them here, here and here. In the truest meaning of the word she is my spiritual mother. She nurtured me toward a place of healing. She nurtured me toward a deeper relationship with Jesus.
God used her in my life to touch those places in my heart that only a mother could touch. Today, even from a distance, she continues to be an important part of my life. She, along with another dear sister (I’ll share her story next), have taught me you really can stay friends though you are miles a part. Women do not always abandon you, they can be apart of your life always.
She has become apart of me. A part of the woman I am today.

To My Mother

It’s been quite some time since I’ve posted in my series “The Women I Come From” . There are so many women I have yet to take the time to write about but lately my heart has been thinking of my Mother.

When I started this series I gave mention of her when I said, “ Before I begin this journey though I do need to honor my Mother. The one who gave me life. The woman who took care of me, fed me and made sure I was warm at night. She showed me that women can be strong. They can survive, even under difficult circumstances.  She taught me to endure. These things I do not take for granted. I know she loves me. I love her. I thank her. I am forever grateful for the mother God gave me. If it weren't for her there would be pieces missing. Pieces that would have left holes in the tapestry of my life.”
I went on the explain that this series was about the women God brought into my life to teach me those things my mother didn’t or couldn’t. They are the women that helped mold me, lead me and to help me see Jesus.

On this blog I haven’t talked much about my mother, although you can find bits and pieces here, here and here. One reason I don’t talk about her much is that it’s been complicated and I wanted to honor her, to show her respect and love her. My words would have been harsh and filled with a lack of compassion. So I choose not to share openly about her. I choose to stay silent until I could speak with grace and forgiveness.

That day has come. I noticed my attitude change last August during a visit with her in Florida. She had come to stay with us for a couple days while we were on vacation. It was a good visit. When I drove her home and had to say goodbye my heart was overcome with great compassion for her. I hated that I had to leave her there, alone. As I drove back to our hotel tears came pouring down for my mother. Not tears of pain or regret but tears filled with love, grace and compassion. Tears that come from a heart that had finally forgiven.

I got off the phone with her yesterday and realized just how much I do love her. I love the woman she is and the woman she is becoming. I see God at work in her and I see her walking in freedom from the past. And I realized just how much a part of her is a part of me. Our journeys have been similar, our deep pain and fears shared.

Today I see a woman, a mother, that loves me with all her heart. I understand that at times I have been very unfair in my judgments of past events. A child’s eye sees life and interprets it through a mind that lacks understanding. A child only sees parts of the story. For this I ask her forgiveness. I have been hard, too hard, on my mother and for that I am deeply sorry.

The mother I see today is a mother who is filled with love, grace and beauty. She is filled with His Spirit. It’s beautiful. She is beautiful. I love her deeply and accept embrace the woman she is.
This is the woman I come from, the mother that has given so much of her life for her children even during those moments when trying to live was hard.

Momma I love you!

Note: After sharing this with you I called my mother to read it to her. Through tears she let me know how much she needed this right at that moment. She said to me that I had nothing to be sorry for it was her that needed forgiveness. If we had been together we probably would have hugged and cried together…it was a healing moment for both of us. It was a God moment.

She Showed Me The Father

I don’t remember the exact moment we met but I can tell you that our friendship was instant. I think it was around 1985.

It was/is one of those friendships that are rare. You know where both husband and wife connect as couples. They fast became family.

A sense of family. That is what she (they) gave us. We would vacation together, spend holiday’s together and practically spend a part of every weekend together. Our kids grew up together.
While I could share about their impact on my life as a couple this series is about the women I come from so I will speak of Ann’s impact. In reality there is so much I could share. She has taught me so much, probably more than I even know! But there is a moment that really stands out in my mind that changed the course of my thinking.

I remember that she once described how she saw God. God was not just Father, but her Abba Father. A Father who loved her and welcomed her to come before Him. To sit with Him, talk with Him. A Father of love, grace and mercy. I told her that I just couldn’t see God that way. It was hard for me to see Him as “Abba”. Her reaction pierced my heart. With tears in her eyes she said, “Sharon I want you to see God that way. I don’t want you to miss that part of God. I am going to pray that God would reveal that part of His character to you.”

Ann walked along with me, and I her, through some tough times. We grew as women, mothers, wives and daughters of the King. We grew together. She spoke truth. She discipled me.

It was with Ann that I did my first Kay Arthur study, together we did quite a few of them. That is important because it was through those studies and Ann’s love of the word of God that I began to study God’s word instead of just reading it casually.

Today she lives twelve hours away. Neither of us do very well with long distance friendships, meaning there are not a lot of phone calls, emails or other contact. In fact I must admit that in the years since they moved we haven’t even been to visit them. Some might wonder if we are still friends.

But here is what I know, this is what I believe is true. When we are together we pick up where we left off. If I needed her, she would be here in an instant if at all possible. I know she loves me, we are sisters. Sisters of the heart. Distance has not weakened our love or friendship.

What an amazing gift God has given me in her friendship. There is such a part of her inside of me. God used her in so many ways to help grow me into the woman I am today. For this I thank God. I thank her.
Oh! I have learned to see God as my Abba Father. God used Ann to plant that hope within me that it might be possible, then God continued to water that seed of hope. Today I see clearly my Abba Father who loves, cherishes and adores me.

So my sweet sister I thank you for showing me Abba. I love you dear sister.

She Showed Love

I’ve prayed long and hard about other women who have impacted my life as a young girl, but the four mentioned are all God has given me. There seems to be about three years that my life was devoid of any real nurturing influence. They were hard years. Years that honestly I don’t remember much about, apart from a few bits and pieces.  Those bits and pieces weren’t good. I remember feeling very much alone. Forgotten. Unlovable. During this time I began looking for love and acceptance where ever I could find it. I just waited to feel loved.

But then, what was love? I didn’t really have a clue. The love that was often showed to me was conditional and skewed. It was a love that took and left me empty inside. There was my mother, who I know loved me. Cared for me. Made sure my needs were being met. But there was never any emotions expressed. The words were never heard. She hadn’t heard them either.

I wanted love. Needed love. But I only knew a wrong kind of love.

When I was 15 I met a girl. Her name was Gina. I don’t remember what is was about her exactly that drew me to her I only knew I wanted to be her friend. I was drawn to her in a way I had never been before. There was something different about her.

I now know it was Jesus.

Gina told me that we couldn’t be finds. Her parents didn’t like her to be close friends with girls like me. Girls like me? I didn’t understand. They had never met me, how did they know that I was a bad girl? I kept it to myself. But inside I was even more afraid. Could people really see me? Could they see all the way into the deep dark places?

She went on to tell me it was because I smoked and I wasn’t a Christian. We could still talk in school but we couldn’t “hang out” together.

“I wasn’t a Christian?” What did that mean? I asked her to tell me what she meant. She told me about Jesus. I had heard a lot about God and I had already decided I didn’t need Him. I didn’t need no father. But Jesus? He died for me and I was a sinner – a really bad one too. Inside I knew there was nothing good about me. But she told me that it didn’t matter, He knew all about me and still chose to die on the cross for my sins. WOW!

I wanted to know more. She went on to explain that it should had been me to die for my sins. I deserved death, not Jesus. But God so loved the world that He gave His one and only son so that I might live forever and ever with Him in heaven. She asked me if I wanted to invite Jesus into my heart and life. I said yes. Anyone who loved me enough to die for me must really love me.

I realize looking back now that I choose to ignore the fact that Jesus was God, they were One. I worked very hard to keep them separate. I still didn’t know if I really needed a heaven Father. But that’s another story. :-)

Gina shared her Jesus with me. We became good friends. We became sisters. She stuck by me through a lot of difficult moments, many wrong life choices. She didn’t always understand. I am sure there were times she wanted to give up on me. I never let her into the dark places. I never let Jesus into them either.

She was and is my sister. It’s been 35 years of friendship. Of sisterhood. Sister Friends. We’ve had years go by without much communication but when one of us would pick up the phone and call it was like we talked yesterday.

I deeply value the part of me that is because of Gina. She showed me Jesus. She showed me His love for me. A real love, an unconditional love. She showed me the love of a sister. A sister who always loves no matter what.

I wanted to be like her when we were teenagers. I still want to be like her.

I followed her around school. We were always together…except when we were fighting! You know-girl drama. lol  I still follow her. Only now it’s on Facebook, Twitter and Blogging. I follow her as she follows Jesus.

Today with social media we are in contact even more. Sharing prayer, God moments and notes of encouragement. I love her deeply from the heart with a love that desires God’s best for her. I am thankful that God brought her into my life 35 years ago and I am thankful she has chosen to stay in my life.

It Felt Like Home

My memories of Loretta and Janet are few. They had a big impact on my life prior to my family moving away when I was 10.


Loretta: I remember days on the farm playing with her children, my second cousins. Jumping in the corn that had been harvested. Running around the barn, playing hide-n-seek.

It was a safe place. She was safe. I felt accepted and loved. It was a place of refuge. Warmth. Laughter. And for those moments in time I felt free. I could forget the pain of home.

I loved my time spent with her and her family. It felt like family. It was family.





Janet: Another special woman. Another family. Same time of my life with a similar impact on my life.

I remember spending a lot of time on their farm. Playing with the little piglets. Carefree days of playing with her children, laughing and being apart of farm life.

It was a place that, once again, I felt safe. If I sit, and close my eyes I can still feel the embrace of her mother’s arms around me. She had a lot of love to give out. I still can picture her smile.


We moved away when I was 10 and too many years would pass before seeing either of these women again. But their impact always stayed with me. Even during the hardest times of my childhood there would be times that the memory of their love would help me through.

I remember my first trip back as an adult. Now with children of my own. I was nervous. Sick to my stomach nervous. I was unsure, and questioned if I should really go. So much time had passed by.

Was love still there? Acceptance? Had I been forgotten?

But when I saw their faces. Their smiles. Felt their hugs. They still felt like family. They are family and I was home again.

Today I look back and realize how precious these two women were in my life. How precious they are today.

They were a constant in my life when there seemed to be so much uncertainty. Their love was a safe place to feel, at least for a time, everything was normal. It was good.

I am grateful that God provided these women at a time when this little girl needed nurturing and loved.

I am grateful that God has brought these memories back to remembrance. Thank you Father.

A Seed Planted

I do not remember her name. For some reason I think it might be Vicky, so that is what I will call her.

Her name may not have lodged itself in the corners of my memories but her love for Christ did. She was a college student at Florida Southern College. My parents hired her to babysit us during the night hours while they worked.

I was thirteen years old. And while my parents felt it was fine to leave me in charge of my sister and brother (11 and 8) during the day hours they felt we needed a sitter during the night hours. Truthfully, we needed someone during the day hours too. But that is another story.

She was kind. Caring. Loving. Since my parents worked every Sunday she often took us to church with her on campus. Honestly I don’t remember much about what was spoken, but I do remember the music.
I remember hands raised. Joy filled voices sing to a God I didn’t know.

Vicky often brought her friends over when see watched us. They talked a lot about God. They would tell me He was my Father in heaven. I would tell them I didn’t need a father in Heaven. I needed him here on earth with me.

They would share of God’s great love for me. I didn’t believe them. I remember a particular conversation where Vicky was explaining my need for God. Because I was a sinner. But God loved me and sent His Son for me. I don’t remember her exact words, but I do remember my reaction.

I said rather boldly with anger in my voice, “I don’t need God! And you can stop talking about Him!”
Vicky stopped talking about Him so much. But she was still kind and loving toward me. Unfortunately I wasn’t so kind. I began making life pretty miserable for her to the point she quit.

I wouldn’t accept Christ as my Savior until several years later. I am sure she felt she failed making an impact on my life in anyway. But even in my anger during that time God used her in my life to plant seed of possible hope that maybe there was someone out there who loved me.

Maybe, just maybe, God was loving and kind and she tried to tell me.

I wish I could tell her that I now understand. That I know Jesus. I wish I could tell her how she impacted my life in a way that would not be understood until years later.

I Miss Her Love

I do not remember much about her other than how she made me feel. She was my grandmother. My Father’s mother. Well actually his step-mother, for his mother died of cancer when he was a teen. Before I was born.

I remember her laugh. Her smile. I remember feelings of love, comfort and safety.

If I close my eyes I can still picture her kitchen. The smells. The love. The joy.

I remember begging her for coffee. She would say it will stunt your growth, but then give me a little in a tea cup to taste.


I have memories of sitting in church with her. She would always have LifeSavers to share. To keep me entertained she would roll up her handkerchief to look like a baby in a cradle and I would quietly sit and play by her side.

Oh how I loved her. How I loved them!

The home of my grandparents always meant laughter and a whole lot of love.

During times of my childhood when home wasn’t so safe I
always knew that in their home, in their love I was safe.

We moved several states away from them when I was 10.

I remember as I got older I wanted to go live with them. I wrote letters often. I missed them. When I was about 18 I remember declaring to my mother that I was going to live with my Grandmother! (My Grandfather had died several years earlier.)

But I did not go.

At 21 I got married. I continued wanting to go visit her. I’d write letters and send her pictures. Pictures of my husband and her great-grandson. I did miss her. I did want to visit.

But I did not go.

In 1985 she died. My son was almost 3. I took him along with me to my grandmother’s funeral. It was hard. I remember the grief and sorrow I felt.

I remember the regrets of not seeing her for so long. I know she is with Jesus. I know she is with both my earthly and heavenly Father.

I will see her again one day.

But today, this very moment, I miss her. A LOT. I wish she was here with me to talk and she could put her arms around me and tell me everything will be alright. I wish I could hear her laugh again. See her smile.

Losing someone you love dearly hurts. The pain of grief and sorrow does fade but there are still moments when the loss comes upon you and you feel the pain again.

And I remember that the love, comfort, acceptance, security that she poured into me is still here. Here, inside my heart.

Today is one of those days when my heart aches for the missing of her. So I will embrace it. I will feel it. Then I move on knowing it’s okay.

I know that my God in heaven sees my tears and understands. He sees the sorrow of my heart and comforts me. I know He wraps His arms around me and says', “Everything will be alright.”

I still have all the letters she wrote. Letters of love. I haven’t read them for many, many years…maybe I’ll pull them out and read them….