Every day we are faced with dozens of choices, some inconsequential, others which nudge our life path this way or that. No matter what road we’re walking, we can only see just so far ahead before our view is blocked by a hill or a curve. We begin to fret about what lay beyond our sight, losing focus on what is right in front of us.

Going through the early years of my life with a mother lost in the weeds of the world was chaotic and lonely. We lived on the east coast with my dad, when mother disappeared with me one day, ultimately moving back to Utah.

My mother was so lost in the death grip she had on her worldly addictions and fears, she wasn’t able to see how her actions were impacting me. I know she came to realize the truth of that later in life, and I came to understand that her choices were never about me. She had relinquished control of herself to the temptations of the enemy.

In spite of that, God provided balance and protection for me all along the way, especially when I was with my mother. There are two particular periods of time where I can see that protection very clearly… the first was during fourth through sixth grade, the second during eleventh and twelfth grades.

Allow me to preface these examples by saying that, given their involvement with the drug world, my mother and step-father moved A LOT when I was in grade school. From first grade to twelfth, I went to eleven different schools. As I said, chaos.

During the fourth-sixth grade, we lived in a couple different houses in the same neighborhood, so I was able to stay in one school for a more extended period. There I met my four best childhood friends… Nicole, Codi, Kate, and Heidi. With those girls, I found a place to belong.

We played Charlie’s Angels, had sleep overs, and it was the most normal and beautiful experience I’d had to till that point. Nicole and her family went to especially great lengths to fill in much needed gaps, including taking me to church on Sundays. That was when the seeds of my faith were deeply planted.

By the time I was in eleventh grade, I was living with my mother and her third husband, but for all intents and purposes, they were more roommates than parents. I went through my last two years of high school mostly on my own.

I was trying to learn how to grow up and figure out who I wanted to be, but I had no guidance. I was too timid and too unaware to know that I could have talked to my daddy about it. I’d grown too accustomed to figuring things out for myself when I was with my mom.

Still, God bridged the gaps. He gave me a plethora of amazing friends and with their help, my love for Christ was solidified during this time. When the day of my high school graduation came, I was running late and rushing around to get ready, which made my mother ask me where I was going in such a hurry. I told her I was “feeling wild” and thought I might drop in on my graduation ceremony. Her response was to say, “Oh, was that today?” She then went on to explain that she’d forgotten and that she and her husband already had plans.

Suffice to say, they didn’t go to graduation. My closest friends, Theresa, Becky, and Holly, knew I was on my own at the ceremony. At the end of the ceremony, when the graduates threw all the caps in the air, I managed to get hit in the face by two of them. I was rushed off to an area where other injured people were being patched up, when a security officer asked for my parents names so he could go find them for me.

My friend Theresa was beside me, and before I could say a word, she told him she’d already taken care of it so he left us and went about his business. At a moment when it would have been painful to speak my own truth, God provided a friend to protect my heart and provide me with grace. It’s a moment I’ve never forgotten.

I understand that these little anecdotes from my past may seem heavy and dark, and at the time they were. But they do not define me. They do not define my mother. They do not control my path. But the lack of support and availability of my mom during a time in my life when I was still young enough to need her to mother me…that is what left its mark.

Her absence, with or without her physical presence, was always what hurt the most. Children aren’t meant to be left to raise themselves. God anoints our parents for that. Fortunately, He knows us in all our humanity, and He’s always there to help us see what is right or make reparations where we go wrong.

By all logic, I should not be living the blessed and beautiful life I am living. However, I know without a doubt that I am exactly where God always planned for me to be. I do wish my mom had done things differently, but her choices and mistakes were all part of who I am now. I have been given a great many experiences that allow me to understand pain and struggle of all kinds, and my prayer now is that God will use my words to draw others closer to Him.