My story begins with the time when I faced hopelessness, true hopelessness, for the first time in my life.
I lost a son when I was 58 years old. I did not question God because I believe in His sovereignty. But there were his children to consider. Their mother was very unstable. I was so scared for them.
Erin, my son, wasn’t with their mother, and the relationship was pretty tumultuous. I had invited him to move back home with his dad and I, to get on his feet. He desperately wanted to get custody of the children. Well, after nine months of living in Savannah, he was hit by a car. His children were adopted by their mother‘s first cousin.
I thought we had a good relationship, and I went to visit once. All was well for a few months, and then the new mom stopped speaking to me and would not let the girls speak to me anymore. I lost it. All I ever wanted to be was a mom and grandmother. I questioned God,” Why am I here? I have no purpose. No legacy.” Yes, I had other two other sons and other grandchildren, but I’ve been so invested in the girls.
My other grandchildren were well and that’s another story. I ended up in an inpatient mental hospital and 12 weeks of outpatient services. Even with the therapy, I was sad. I was lost for about two years. I retired early, hoping to heal.
There is a series of God leading me to new places, and I am now free indeed. I live in His light. No more darkness. I have a new job, I so enjoy. I’m a little tired, but I love it. I love that at age 65, I found work that I feel gives me purpose.
Amanda W.