Hidden shame

Things changed for Bonna when her sons became teenagers and got in trouble with the law. We ended up with her at the social services meeting, when they were threatening to remove her sons from the family home. We went to court with her when one of the sons faced a prison sentence. These were all alien places to her – but she couldn’t stop saying thank you for us being by her side. As she sat in tears with us in her living room, I shared of how God brought me out of my own seemingly helpless situation, which she was encouraged by. This Bengali lady’s support network became a group of Christians from the local church. Meanwhile she never told the wider family what was going on.

When we knocked on another door down the road, we were greeted by Tracy*, a single mum of three. We immediately connected and I arranged to visit her again.

The second time we visited, her son answered the door and pointed us to a flat around the corner. There were people passed out on the floor, amongst needles and vomit, and we found Tracy there.

Like so many women I’ve met over the years, Tracy had all the gifts of a wonderful mother, but tragically these were thwarted by addiction.

I’m still in touch with Tracy now. A few weeks ago, I bumped into her son on the bus. He’s now in his thirties. It’s been twenty years since his mum became sober.

I remember the start of that journey well. I remember supporting her as she went into rehab. I remember sharing my own story with her and telling her about Jesus. I remember praying with her that she might be reunited with her children.

It was a long journey, but Tracy was eventually reunited with her children.

Tracy believes in Jesus. I’m convinced from our time together that she loves the Lord, and that he continues to be at work in her life.

But sadly, she doesn’t come to church.

I can sympathise with her – which is where my own story comes in.

I’d been in and out of trouble since I was a teenager, in the grip of alcohol and drug addiction, and I ended up in Armagh Women’s Prison.

It’s there I met a lady who had also struggled with alcohol abuse and had become a Christian. She gave me Christian books, which I had lots of time to read alongside the Bible my auntie had given me.

I was guilty and ashamed and alienated from everybody by that point, and as I opened the Bible I expected judgement from God. But what I discovered was mercy.

There is practical wisdom as well – not to make assumptions if someone walks into church with their children. Not to overwhelm them with attention – but to pray for them. It is the Lord who will draw them to himself, not the quality and sensitivity of our welcome.

Finally, how much more included will someone feel if they have been invited by someone? Friendships with Tracy and Bonna started with a knock on their door. We’ve seen God do amazing things as we come alongside churches to make connections like these in their local area.

Surprised by mercy

Mother’s Day has meant different things to me over the years. For many it will re-open old wounds, as it did with me in the past.

But today it reminds me of God’s mercy. At 18, Claire got back in contact with me. I thought she would be angry, but she wasn’t. I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked by God’s mercy.

In God’s abundant grace, Claire and I have enjoyed a wonderful relationship which has slowly grown over the years. And I have been blessed with a beautiful grandson.

Mother’s Day is a reminder of the failure and shame that I have felt, and so many mothers feel every day. But it’s here in our failure, and only here, that the Lord Jesus meets us with kindness and mercy. Let’s pray that he would use us to point to him.

You can find out more about Carol and her ministry here.

To explore how LCM can support you and your church to reach people on the margins with the gospel, visit here.