This is me and my movie-starlet mom (about 1967). Note the matching jackets. And my grubby little knees, typical. Not sure where this was taken, probably at the Oregon coast. My dad took the shot. I don’t remember him much, because soon after this, he left.
Those big brown eyes seem alert and a little wary. Wonder what I was thinking. Maybe I sensed this would be one of the last times I’d see my dad for more than a decade. Maybe I could foresee what my life would be like without a dad to love, protect, and encourage me.
No, that little kid had no clue. She would have to find out about the fatherless life the hard way.
Growing up, I often wished my dad would come back and rescue me from the torment of the day. One night when I was about 8, after being banished to my room all day by an ever-angry stepdad, I wrote, “Help me, Daddy!” in the window condensation. I even wrote it backwards so he could read it if he happened by. Which wasn’t likely since he lived in another country. But, star pupil that I was, I still clung to such hopes.
I was a sensitive kid, though no one knew it, including me. That tendency to be easily wounded created a tough protective shell, which didn’t make me any less sensitive; it just allowed me to tramp through life bleeding without anyone ever knowing it.
I could go on and on (fill a book, no doubt) about how empty, ugly, and unlovable I felt growing up, make a long list of all the factors that had aligned just right and drove insecurity and erroneous self-talk deep into every part of me.
But I won’t. (Not today, anyway . . .)
The rescue I longed for never came. Not the kind I’d been imagining, anyway. It would be decades before I realized I’d had a Rescuer all along. He’d been there with me many times. I just hadn’t seen him or taken hold of his outstretched hand.
I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, “Surely the LORD is in this place, and I was not aware of it.” Genesis 28:15-16
Have you ever wished someone would love you so much they could never, ever leave you? That’s not to say I haven’t been blessed with an incredibly devoted, loving husband and the miracle of nearly 29 years together, in spite of my junky baggage and many painful mistakes. But humans are not wired to provide the kind of undying love and approval we crave.
And yet, The Hero of all heroes, the God of the Universe, stood within arms’ reach all along, ready to lavish me with his relentless, undying love. If only I’d known!
And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Ephesians 3:17-19
It took decades, even long after giving my life to Jesus, to begin to grasp how much God loves me in spite of my flaws and mistakes. His grace, forgiveness and patience blows me away. Sometimes I’m struck with awe and gratitude for all that God has done and continues to do in and for me. I’m still discovering the depth and height and width and length of his love for me. He’s the only one who can love us so unconditionally without wavering. He gave his only Son for me, gave what was most precious, paid the highest, most costly price for ME. Will he then leave me? Split on me to go live in another country without a backward glance? Pull away and turn his back on me when I’ve screwed up one time too many? I need never fear being abandoned.
And neither do you.
The LORD himself (The God of the Universe!) goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” Deuteronomy 31:8
I wish I could go back and spend some time with that wide-eyed little girl on the beach. There are so many things I long to tell her. Too many to list here. But if there’s one thing I’d tell my young self, it’s this:
Camille, God adores you so much he paid the utmost highest price for you! You are his precious prize! He thinks you’re beautiful because he made you, and even when you’re not beautiful and make mistakes and break his heart, he will still love you! He will love you forever and ever and will never, ever leave you.
Question, friend: If you could go back and visit little you, what would you say?
What a beautiful child you were. Well, I’d go back and tell my little self to relax and try not to take the cares of the world on my little shoulders. I’d tell me not to be afraid of God and that He, God, is well able to take care of all the world’s problems, including those that reigned in my family home. I’d tell me to laugh a little more and trust people a little more and worry a lot less.
Amen, Jan. Good words, maybe you can use them to encourage someone now.
Awesome post! I can relate in many ways. Never thought about what I would say to little me. That’s worth pondering. I’ve only dreamed about punching 17-year-old-me in the face! 🙂
Yikes! But would it have helped? I have a thing or two to say to 17-year-old me, too. But we knew everything at that age, so I don’t know if I would have listened… 🙂
Hmmmm, good point! 🙂
Very moving post, Camille. I’m sure many readers will relate. Although I had a loving daddy growing up, no one makes this journey without disappointment and pain. Chalk it up to life this side of heaven. But you’re absolutely correct. There is One who never disappoints.
Amen. And yet I still have to be reminded to take my eyes off momentary troubles and see his faithful hand at work, or just trust his amazing grace & goodness when I don’t see him at work, knowing he is still and always has my best in mind.
This post peeks into a lot of wounds for me. I, too, know that feeling of needing to feel loved, validated, worthy to be alive. I think I’d tell myself to learn to embrace who I really was and that God is a father to the fatherless. (Psalm 68:5) and to not be ashamed of being myself. I always had a keen awareness of God even when I was small which I’m very grateful for. I think I’d tell myself that it’s okay to be sensitive and creative and that I didn’t have to settle, that God had a purpose for my life and a reason for living. But most of all, that I was loved.
Such good advice. I probably would have shrugged it off, but some seeds are planted if placed deep enough. You are such an encourager & cheerleader, Karla. I am sure your kids & grandkids benefit from what you’ve learned. What a gift you have!
Oh, and Camille! This post is pure loveliness, just like you.
🙂
I’m sorry for your childhood sadness, Camille. But I’m praising God that you found Him. Bless you for your transparency. I can’t even put in writing what I’d tell my young self. It brings tears to my eyes just to think of it.
Oh, I’m sorry to to hear that, Megan. But I know God can always bring something good from all circumstances. Bless your tender heart, and may he use that tenderness for others. You now lavish your grandbabies with your love, guidance and encouragement. What a blessing!
Great article, Camille. Too close to home. Love Karla’s post that The Lord is a Father to the Fatherless. I also, day dreamed of my bio father returning and rescuing me from an angry, violent step-dad. I think I would like little me to know that to go after God whole-hog would be a smart thing not a weirdo thing. AND that He is the only One who loves me more than He does Himself.
Sorry to hear we’ve learned some of the same truths in the same ways, Joann. I thank God you did go after him and found his priceless love, and are generous to pray and share what you have with others.
Wow, very powerful and I can relate. I wish I could go back and tell my child-self that God was there with me, that I wasn’t facing the abuse alone, that things would be better and I would be healed of the hurts. Thank you for sharing from the depths of your heart.
Thank you for sharing as well, Heather. Praying he will continue to heal you and use you to bring healing to others. (sorry your post was delayed – it was marked as spam for some reason)
Oh, Camille, such a little cutie! I guess I’d tell her life comes with ups and downs, sometimes more of one than the other, but that it always gets better eventually if we’ll look for the good in life, good in people, and good in opportunities. I didn’t God well at that age, though I knew of Him, but I’m sure He is what got me through as well.
I can look back and see moments when my life “intersected” with God, though I didn’t know it at the time. Even if I didn’t reach out for his outstretched hand, I know it was there, and am grateful.
Keep up the good work blogging, Camile!
Part of me doesn’t want to mar the beautiful honesty of this post by commenting.
But I’m staring at a picture of little-me that I keep under the glass top protecting my desk.
What would I say to little-me?
I’m sorry you weren’t protected way-back then.
But there will come a time when those hurts will be healed.
And you’re more beautiful than you realize …
and all those people who tell you, “Don’t be so sensitive!”
well, they’re wrong …
maybe you have something to be sensitive about.
And God is going to use that sensitivity one day.
Beautiful, like you, Beth. You’re right, he is using your tender heart now! You’ve shown such kindness & sensitivity to me. I am reminded of the verse in Corinthians about giving comfort to those in need through the comfort we ourselves have received. I can see God working his grace through you in the ashes of one soul’s sorrow to touch many more. Understanding why bad things happen is a big topic to grasp this side of heaven, but I know God is faithful to make beauty from ashes and to walk with us. As we make him our Source, we can find so much beauty, like the gift of forgiveness, the beauty of God’s grace displayed in us, his sweet presence, so much more.
Bless you!
A beautifully poignant post, Camille. You touched us!
Thank you, Cynthia. Good to see you here!
Wow. So grateful for God’s unconditional love, for how he draws us to Him and longs to “heal all our diseases.” So sad at how so many, many children suffer so terribly from the selfishness, carelessness, and often despicable cruelty of adults. Breaks my heart.
But I’m encouraged even more by God’s grace and redemptive power to transform us, to make us new, and to enable us to go out and reach others with that same transforming power. Only our God can do something like that. Praise Him!
Amen, Em.
This is beautiful, Camille. You reach down to the root of what every little girl searches for. And you’re right – it’s there all along.
What a little cutie you were! And your Mom looks like Michelle Williams! Truly movie-starlet-esque!
Good to see you, FPFG! Kind of like Dorothy in Oz, huh. 🙂 If only we knew & remembered this. Something for me to keep in mind because I face times now when I think “I’ve got this” after years of being fiercely independent (hmm, wonder how that happened…) and realize I’m as limited depending on myself as I am hoping someone else will come through. God has so much more.
“No eye has seen,
no ear has heard,
no mind has conceived
what God has prepared for those who love him.”
(1 Corinthians 2:9)
[…] For a similar Along The Banks post, see: What Would You Say To Little You? […]