My Story

Losing My Mom

Grace came to me when I lost my mom. She died in 2003 after a five year battle with breast cancer.

I remember her telling my brother and me when she got cancer. I was about 11. I didn’t quite understand what it meant, but I understood it was bad. She had struggled with alcohol for years, ever since I can remember, so adding a cancer diagnosis to the mix didn’t make things any easier.

The initial prognosis was pretty grim – about a year to live, they said. But my mom was a Wisconsin farm girl, tough and stubborn. She outlived the year. Then they kept saying a few more months. She outlived a few more months. The cycle would repeat, and she’d keep going.

A Mix of Emotions

The whole experience left me with a constant mix of fear, sadness, anger, uncertainty, pain, and confusion to say the least. Some days, I’d be sad and fearful about the reality of losing my mom. I wanted to care for her and extend compassion to her, knowing she was in pain. Yet other days, anger took over me as her battle with alcohol continued. Why would she drink when she’s sick? I didn’t understand then. Now I get it. She was addicted. It provided some fleeting measure of comfort, relief, or escape. 

Living through that was one of the most difficult experiences of my life.  The loss itself was painful, and I never got a sense of closure in our relationship.  She was an alcoholic throughout much of my childhood, and I harbored a lot of sadness and anger for growing up with that. 

I Can’t Do This Alone

When she died, I came to realize a deep sense within myself that I could not handle this situation alone. I had friends and family, but that was not enough.  That inescapable incapable feeling I had started to generalize as I grieved – I felt like I could not handle life alone.  I felt I needed God to help me through my grief and through life in general.

During that time, I would pray to God in a real generic sort of way, and I was comforted. But I felt a distance that needed to be bridged. I started reading the Bible, especially the Gospels. As I read about Jesus, I noticed He seemed to deeply care about hurting people, but there was something untouchable about Him. He was perfect in every way. He had the utmost compassion for those in pain, but He was still outraged by injustice, and His standards seemed impossible to follow. 

Meeting Jesus in My Grief

As I read about him, I was drawn to Him but I realized I couldn’t do everything He asked of me. It was similar to my grieving. I wanted to handle the grief, but I realized my own inadequacy to do so. I wanted to follow Jesus, but I realized I was inadequate to do so because of my sin.

The more I read about Jesus, the more I saw Him as perfect, and that made me feel all the more imperfect. I was unable to deal with the grief and unable to deal with my sin, inadequacy, and imperfection. I wanted God to help me, but I realized my sin separated me from Him. I felt guilty and unworthy before God, and I needed forgiveness. I understood that Jesus cared for hurting people, so I sensed that He would be the one to help me out. 

As I read through the New Testament, a similar theme kept popping up: Jesus forgives sinners and restores those who feel utterly broken. He freely forgives sinners, but it cost Him His life. I understood the cross had something to do with forgiveness, but I couldn’t quite grasp it. 

I went to a worship service around that time, and a pastor told a story about substitution – about what it means to do something in the place of someone else. The pastor explained that this is what Jesus did on the cross. He died in my place, for my sins, so that my sins could be removed and forgiven. By rising from the dead, He showed that He conquered sin and death, and that I could live a new life. There was nothing I had to do, and I was well aware at that point that there was nothing I could do to get right with God. My sin needed punishment and Jesus took it for me. Having realized that, I trusted Him. I put my faith in Him, acknowledging that I couldn’t get right with God by my own doing; only through the cross could I be forgiven and offered a new life. 

Grace Changed Me

My grief didn’t go away after that. But I understood that since Jesus suffered for me, He understood my grief. Although I still grieve at times, I grieve with hope because of Christ and His promises. Also, because Jesus had forgiven me for everything I’ve ever done, I was able to forgive my mom for her alcohol abuse. He saved me not only from my sin, but from my grief and pain as well.  

God’s grace chased me down in the midst of cancer, alcoholism, and grief. It changed me. The Lord changed me.

I don’t know what your story is, but I hope that whatever you’re going through, God’s grace will chase you down. I hope that Jesus, in His grace, meets you right where you are, right now. I pray that you see Him as the gracious God that He is. I pray that you will accept His radical, life-changing grace either for the first time or thousandth time.

We always need God’s grace. Thankfully, He always gives it.

“He gives grace generously.”
(James 4:6)

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