A 25 Year Wait for Forgiveness
"Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." –Ephesians 4:32
This week we are focusing on “Portraits of Praise.” In particular, we are sharing stories about the ways that God provides and cares for us in the midst of adversity, and how we respond with praise and thanksgiving. We begin the week with a reflection from one of our Stephen Ministers, Debi Binkley:
I have one sister and five brothers. We came from a very poor background, and we were considered Wards of the Court. We had a caseworker, Mrs. Potter, who visited our home regularly. I don’t ever remember having a Christmas tree in our home. My parents divorced when I was 11 years old. I can still remember at the Courthouse, when my father came out and said, “We have reached an agreement. Your mother said that if she could have Denise (my sister), that I could have you and all the boys.” Even though I loved my dad, I was devastated that I didn’t get to go with the girls. And I remained angry at my mother for the next 30 years.
Within the next year, all of us kids were taken away from our parents and placed in the Indiana Soldiers & Sailors Children’s Home at Knightstown. For me, it was a very positive experience because it got me out of a chaotic environment with alcoholism and constant fighting, but it separated all of us siblings. At the Home, the boys lived on one side of the lake, and the girls lived on the other side. I was even separated from my sister, who lived in a division with older girls.
I spent an enormous amount of energy getting as involved in everything that I possibly could – piano and organ lessons, cheerleading, drama, queen contests – you name it – whatever I could do to prove to my mother that I was worth loving. I would later learn that my siblings, including my sister, were doing their own things to try to prove that they were lovable as well.
Our parents were given alternate weekends when they could visit with us at the Home. My father never missed a weekend. You never knew if our mother would show up or not. Daddy finally got his act together and was granted permission to take the rest of us out of the Home. I was doing quite well where I was, though, and I had learned that the only person I could rely on was myself, so I wasn’t going anywhere. The rest of my brothers left to live with our dad. My father sadly died the following February from lung cancer, and my mother moved in to continue taking care of the boys.
At the Home, we had sponsors who visited us, sent us cards and letters, and even took us to their homes. I was blessed to be given a married couple as my sponsors – Carol & Stu Duerstock – who introduced me to God and began the process of demonstrating what unconditional love looked like. To this day, I am very, very close to Carol & Stu, and I credit them wholeheartedly with helping me shape my life. My entire adult life, I have been passionate about being the best mother I can be to my children, reaching out to other children and helping them as the Duerstocks helped me ~ pay it forward, if you will ~ and to share the circle of influence that they shared with me.
I was the first of any of us kids to go to college. My mother was so proud. But I still kept my distance. Over the course of the next 25 years, the relationship between my mother and me was very strained, to say the least. I treated her with respect, but we were not close; I was still hurt that she had chosen my sister and not fought for me.
In March of 1994, I attended the Great Banquet and really began my journey with God. For those of you who have experienced that, I know you can relate to the enormous amount of unconditional love I felt that weekend and ever since. My mother wrote me the most wonderful, loving letter apologizing to me for all the years we missed. That entire experience changed my life.
In the fall of 1995, my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer, and on December 5th of that year, I asked her if we could have a talk. I did most of the talking. I told her that I knew she was never able to love me the way I needed her to, but that I was sure she was doing the best she could. She shook her head and agreed. I told her that I knew she had always loved Denise more than me and that it had hurt my feelings very much. Again, she shook her head. I told her that I had been so hurt and angry at her for so many years, but that it didn’t matter anymore. I told her that I finally figured out it wasn’t about whether or not she loved me; it was about me loving her – unconditionally. She looked perplexed.
I told her that over the years, I had gone out of my way to excel at everything possible just so she would notice me. She nodded. I told her that I had tried over the years to find special ways that she and I could be connected. I told her that her birthday was June 12, 1925, and my birthday was June 21, 1952 – exact opposites with numbers. I had also figured out that when I was 14, she was 41 – when I was 25, she was 52 – every 11 years, we had a special connection like that. She seemed so honored that I had discovered that special connection between us. I told her how proud I was when everyone always used to tell me, “You look just like your mother.” I told her that it didn’t matter anymore – all that mattered to me was that I knew for sure that she knew how much I had always loved her - unconditionally. She cried, told me how proud she was of me, and that she had always known how much I loved her. She showed me a card she had saved for many years that I had given her. We hugged and became friends that day ~ finally. This was the most loving, forgiving, liberating day of my life. We had a wonderful 1½ years together before she passed away. I regret so much that I wasted all of those years being angry, but I am so very glad that we had that talk while she was still living.
Debi Binkley
Church Member