By Cynthia Diggs
Just about every little girl has played house with her baby dolls pretending to be a mom. It is a dream to grow up and experience the love of a child. I distinctly remember the wonderful relationship I had with my mom growing up and even to this day. My mom taught her girls and even her only son the importance of having a good, God-fearing mom. I guess it was always in the back of my mind that I would emulate her one day and share with my children all that I learned from her.
And so it happened to me in my early twenties that I became pregnant through a promiscuous relationship. It was never my desire to have a baby outside of marriage; in fact, I was taught all of my life that if you play with fire, you will eventually get burned. Needless to say, this was not the happy time for me that I had fantasized about as a little girl. I was constantly sick, and that alone made me really sad. My thoughts of a blissful pregnancy ended when I was rushed to the hospital just to hear that my baby had died. No other words have ever cut so deep or hurt so bad, besides the death of my own father.
The first Mother’s Day after losing my child was devastating for me. I did not want to go to church or hear the word “mother” at all. Going to baby showers was almost out of the question. For years I asked myself, “How will I ever get past this?” I just couldn’t see it.
I could not understand why I would have to go through something so painful. I did not have the best support system at the time; I was afraid, I felt guilty, and I just never felt like I would get over it. I was told not to talk about it, and I did just that. I carried this pain around for years and years until I allowed God to truly minister to me and take it away.
Around the fifth year after my baby’s death, I began to notice it was a little easier for me to be around other children and even embrace a pregnant woman. I have always had a very close-knit family; nieces and nephews continued to come into my life through my brother and sister. We noticed that the children would always take a special interest and liking to me. My mom believed this was God’s way of starting my healing process. It was never hard for me to love those children, and actually, I would love on them as if they were my own. No one knew that many times I would slip off to my room and just cry after interacting with them. It was during these times that I would talk to God and ask Him questions that no one else could answer. I would also beg Him to take the pain away. It was here that I learned to talk to God about what was hurting me the most. My prayer life increased, and I found myself talking to Him more than anyone else. I was developing a relationship with God through my pain!
It was also through my love of music that I was drawn to listen to gospel songs every day, and
sometimes, I would even fall asleep with them on. I would listen to Yolanda Adams sing, “I am just a prayer away,” and Tramaine Hawkins’ words, “A wonderful change has come over me.” I distinctly remember those two songs ministering to my broken heart. I don’t believe I fully understood all of the lyrics at the time, but it was the Holy Ghost that led me to them. I wanted my change!
I am thankful that I never stopped going to church, although many Sundays I was there in body
only. Hearing the Word of God preached and remaining active in the ministries I was a part of helped tremendously. Through the teaching of God’s Word to others, I was convicted not only to read God’s Word but to study the same Scriptures that I was telling everyone else to
read. I began to meditate on healing scriptures, and my favorite one was Psalm 147:3, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” I kept reading it and reading it until it made sense. God is the only one who can do this, I just have to let Him! I can honestly say that I let God do for me what He wanted to do all the time. I learned I could not teach healing until I was healed myself. I carried this Scripture along with others in my purse, underlined them in my Bible, and even posted them in visible places at home. I declared my healing through prayers and God’s Word.
It was through constant prayer and seeking God for healing that I was able to understand why my womb was chosen. It is very hard to imagine your pain and your story being the one that actually helps someone as they go through the same painful experience. As I grew in God, I discovered this was one of many stories that I would have to share with women all over the world. It was just a couple of years ago that I shared openly and publicly with a group of ladies at a prayer breakfast. Afterward, so many told me how my testimony had blessed them and helped them to release pain they had carried for years. It was like a light bulb that instantly came on telling me my pain was worth it all.
It was my own mother who shared each year at Mother’s Day that she thinks of me as a mom because of the love I share with everyone and their children. I am thankful to her for being my very first mentor and owe her so much for guiding me through this process. I speak today as a healed woman full of gratitude that God can turn bitterness into a blessing! I am thankful to Him for choosing me for such an assignment and allowing me to still be a mom to so many as an aunt, mentor, teacher, personal tutor, and godparent.
Minister Cynthia Diggs is a conference speaker, gospel singer, and an associate minister at St. John Church in Grand Prairie and in Southlake. She is the founder of 4Real Ministries…Realistic Expectations About Life.
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