By the time I was fourteen, my stepdad was in prison; we lost our home and moved to a low-income neighborhood. The burden of caring for my sister and me was overwhelming for my mom. She would leave for days at a time. I became pretty proficient at shoplifting food and clothing. When she was home, her temper flared constantly. Attempting to protect my little sister, I tried to keep the focus of my mother’s anger.
God does not see
I hated my mother and her bipolar relationship with God. I remember hearing her pray one night as I lay in my bed. She reminded God how He had rained down mana from heaven in the bible. Mom walked into my room and put her hands on me as she continued to pray. Not ready for another conflict, I seethed inwardly and pretended to sleep. I thought if God does see us, He certainly doesn’t care.
Absence of hope
The following day, I awoke, and the murky weather reflected my mood. As I walked to school, I continued to think about my mother’s prayer. A friend I walked to school with kept asking what was up. I didn’t respond. I just kept walking, chewing on the absence of hope in our lives.
He knew my thoughts
Then I saw my friend step over a wet bill. As I stooped to pick it up, I realized it was one hundred dollars. I felt hope stir. God had heard my mother’s prayer, but more than that, He knew my thoughts. My friend wanted to skip school and go shopping. The money, I explained, was a much-needed gift from God for my family. I took the money home. We picked up my grandmother, bought groceries, and had a nice dinner. This one day prevented me from being completely consumed by the ever-present struggles of growing up in my mother’s home.
You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle.
Are they not in your book?
Then my enemies will turn back in the day when I call.
This I know, that God is for me.
In God, whose word I praise, in the Lord, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me?
Psalm 56:8–11