Nov 13 2008
About Me
Hi. I’m Nancy Arant Williams, a retired RN and a Christian fiction author and book editor. I’ve been married to John, the love of my life for nearly thirty-eight years, and we have two wonderful adult children, Jeremy and Piper, both happily married. We are blessed with six beautiful grandchildren, and feel like our quiver is full.
My heart’s desire is to be an encourager of my brothers and sisters, those who struggle with perfectionism and depression. I know this story–I do. I was born into a Christian family, and though I didn’t realize it then, it was dysfunctional in many ways.
The story starts with my grandmother, who was the youngest of three daughters and apparently the “spunky one.” I suppose this should explain why her desperate mother sent her out to work at the age of ten as a domestic for wealthy families in the area. As I ponder this fact, I simply can’t understand how any mother could send her elementary school-aged child into the world to earn a living while her other, older daughters stayed at home.
The rumor is that her employers were often insulting and cruel, or at least that’s how she saw the situation. Because of this, she grew bitter and angry. She was seventeen when she entered nursing school, and it was during this time she met a man she would shortly marry.
He was a kind man, and the two were happy and very much in love. But she was troubled. In her search for answers she got into God’s Word and accepted Christ as her Savior. But that didn’t necessarily solve all her problems. In fact, she had built a shell around her heart that no one could penetrate, even those who loved her.
They had three daughters; the youngest was my mother. Mother was a very bright child, who longed to please her mother. But her mother had little room for sentiment and even less for affection toward her youngest child.
When Mother was five years old, she was delighted when her teacher chose her to be the angel in the Christmas play. Always eager for ways to excel to gain her mother’s affection and approval, she ran the eight blocks home from school and handed her mother the note from the teacher. After giving the note a moment’s attention she tossed it on the counter and said, “Doesn’t your teacher know you’re no angel?”
Mother was devastated. This scene, unfortunately, played out repeatedly over the years with my grandmother rejecting her daughter’s overtures toward her. In fact, as I grew up I watched as my mother became an emotional cripple simply because she had never heard her mother say, “I love you and I’m proud of you.”
Mother went to her grave at age fifty-three without ever hearing the words she so longed for. Insecure in her mother’s love she was never able to hear and appropriate the love, respect and compliments others gave her over the years. From my point of view, it was a tragedy over which I had no control.
And because Mother had to please her mother she demanded perfection from her own children. Growing up I never felt quite good enough to please God, though my mother did a better job of showing affection and love than her mother had. My church taught that we must just pull ouselves up by our bootstraps and “do it” or God wouldn’t smile on us. He was, unfortunately, portrayed as a whip-wielding tyrant who had little sympathy and no room for error.
Getting into Scripture in those days was a painful thing because I could only see my failure to measure up, with no hope of ever making the grade. The standard was simply too high, and I failed at every attempt to meet it.
As an adult I felt inadequate, insecure, and, as a result, became a perfectionist just like my mother. This meant I was demanding of myself and everyone around me. God was, from my perspective, a hard-nosed slavedriver, who demanded the impossible.
In fact, when my mother died in 1984, I realized I had become someone I didn’t know, simply for the sake of pleasing her. I had become a carbon copy of her, just to gain her approval.
It hit me hard realizing I had never been “my own person,” and, in truth I had no idea who I was inside, because I had, at a very young age, set aside my identity to become something I was not.
I felt angry and victimized, only proving how far I was from the goal of perfection. I was, in short, a mess.
The year following Mother’s death I was hit by a tidal wave of circumstances that I could not control, that whipped my emotional feet out from under me. I had failed God, and even my relationship with Christ wasn’t strong enough to hold me above water.
In September, 1985 I felt desperate and alone, in pain that just kept building until I thought I would suffocate under its weight. When I saw no end of pain I made a decision. Death would at least be a relief.
Now you have to understand I’ve always been upbeat and lighthearted, but at that point, I had no hope and saw no other options.
Without telling my husband I made a plan. That Thursday morning I took my children to school, returned home, cleaned house, cooked and froze meals that would last several weeks, and then got in my car and drove thirty miles to where a train track bisected a city park.
I sat facing the tracks waiting for the train, weeping and telling God I was sorry to have failed Him so badly. I didn’t really want to die, but I could find no reason to live. Not even my family, who I dearly loved, was enough reason to go on.
It wasn’t long before I could feel the rumble of the train shaking the ground beneath me, so I started the car and drove to the crossing where I waited. I would drive onto the tracks and let the train do the rest.
I could scarcely see for the tears as the train rolled closer. I cried, “God, I don’t want to do this, but I see no other way out. Do you have anything to say to me before I end it all?”
As amazing as it sounds, through my tears I could see light and feel warmth from the passenger’s seat beside me. And God spoke. “My daughter, my dove, I see your tears and your anguish, but this is not my plan for you. I love you, my dove. And I have great things in store, amazing things for you to do, if you’ll stay and give me a chance to show you the way.”
That was all I needed to know. I turned the car around and went home, and over the next weeks, got on my computer and wrote 300 pages of heartache that I gave to the Lord. He met me where I was and showed me some incredible things from His Word.
He knew me before I was ever born–knew I would be weak and needy and imperfect and yet He still created me. He didn’t look at me and say, “This one goes on the scrap pile for recycling. It’s not useful for anything.” Instead He said, “This one is special. She has some things that still need polishing, and she’s not quite perfect, but she’s a one-of-a-kind, and I signed my name right there. See it? I’m going to do amazing things with her.”
God showed me that He knew I would be imperfect and fallible, but that in Him I would be complete. He said, “What she needs, I AM.” He completes me in my weakness, and together, we can accomplish amazing things when I let Him take control.
He loves us. As incredible as it sounds, it’s true. For whatever reason, He loves us, and has amazing things in store for those who choose to give themselves to Him.
Dear friend, if you are at the place where you feel inadequate, never measuring up, take heart, for whatever you lack, GOD IS. He says you are the apple of His eye, that you and I can do all things through Christ. Without Him we can do nothing, but with Him and in Him, absolutely nothing is impossible for us.
He brought me back from the brink of death, and He’ll do it for you, too. If you are struggling, read Psalms and find hope and comfort there. And know that I am praying for you, that you will never, ever give up in despair, but will grab hold of God and tell Him you won’t let Him go until He speaks to you and shines light on the path He has ordained for you.
He loves and cherishes you, so seek Him in His Word and pray, asking Him for rhema words, the exact scripture verses you need for that moment, and He’ll provide them. He loves revealing Himself to His kids.
He says that He’ll never leave or forsake us. It’s up to us to choose, however. If we choose to abandon Him, He will not force Himself on us.
Reach out to Him, pouring your heart out, and He will hear your cry and answer you. You are beloved, precious in His sight, cherished and a one-of-a-kind. As you learn to see yourself in this new light, I promise that, just like me, you will never be the same again.
Write me at nancyarantwilliams@hughes.net if I can pray for you or encourage you.
