Something of Value

He said I had no value.

 ^“Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”

  ~ Matthew 6:26 ESV

What does it mean to value something or have values about something?

I think it would depend on the object or objects in question.

Wouldn’t you?

I looked up both words: value/values. Each returned the same exact results. The word value(s) has several meanings.

• the monetary worth of something.
• a fair return or equivalent in goods, services, or money exchanged.
• relative worth or importance.
• the relative duration of a musical note.
• relative lightness or darkness of a color.

However, let’s say you’re defining the value of another person in your life. What does it mean to value your spouse, your children, or a dear friend?

I scrolled down a little further on the definition for both forms of the word and here’s what I found.

• something intrinsically valuable or desirable.
• to rate or scale in usefulness, importance, or general worth.

So, to value someone means to see their usefulness, importance, worth, or something to be desired.

Seems easy enough.

What if, for example, you were told by someone close to you, such as your spouse, your child, or a friend, that you had no value? That you weren’t useful to them or important, or held worth?

I would think learning that would be pretty devastating.

What if you overheard it from a conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to but couldn’t un-hear it once you heard the words spoken?

How do you live with that?

I would imagine it would be very difficult to recover from that. Especially if you didn’t want the other person to know you accidentally overheard their conversation, for fear of retribution. That would mean you’d have to pretend you didn’t know anything and you’d have to ensure you didn’t act any differently for fear of giving yourself away. You’d have to push your emotions down and not let them affect you. And yet, you’d have to continue to live day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year knowing the true feelings of the other person.

Sounds pretty convoluted, doesn’t it?

It was.

Welcome to just one of the many scenarios I endured while married to my ex. We were married just shy of 35 years and I dealt with situations like the one above, at least, two or three times a week. There was always drama. Whether it was work related or health related or even yard work related. There was always something. I constantly walked on egg shells. He probably didn’t notice it because I became very good at hiding my feelings from him and besides, who notices someone of no value.

As a child, I always looked forward to Christmas. My daddy was a cabinet builder by trade and, even though he worked hard, money was always tight. We lived in a 742 square foot, two-bedroom house on 28th Avenue. My two sisters and I shared a bedroom. We were crowded but it never seemed to bother us. We were thankful for what we had. I’m sure we were considered poor folks but I never felt poor.

Christmas was the one day out of the year we received toys. I believe I was around 7 years old when I unwrapped her. A sweet little baby doll, complete with a fuzzy pink blanket and a bottle. I was so happy when I saw her all tucked into her little box. Since I didn’t have anything to make a little bed out of, I used the box she came in. After all, she fit into it perfectly because it was made just for her.

I named her Joy. I don’t recall now why I decided on that name. Probably because having her as my own brought me such great joy. I took her everywhere with me. I’m sure to others, she looked like an ordinary doll but to me, she was one of a kind. She was the only doll I had so Joy was something of great value.

When I was in the fourth grade, my mom gave birth to my little brother. Having four kids in a two-bedroom house became much too crowded so we moved to Oregon to live next to my grandparents. My Pappy had bought a big tract of land and then each one of my mom’s siblings purchased what they wanted.

My parents purchased a used single-wide mobile home and had it moved onto the Sager section of the parceled out land. There were two bedrooms in the trailer. My oldest sister got one of the rooms to herself and my younger sister and I shared. My dad removed the tilt out portion on the trailer then added on a big living room, a master bedroom, and a laundry room to expand the living space. It was the biggest home I’d ever lived in. I thought we’d won the lottery or something.

I started fifth grade the next school year. We lived out in the country so we rode the bus to and from school every day. My grandma built a shed by the main road so we would have shelter in case it rained. It was the Pacific Northwest. Rain was a given.

Every morning, my sisters and I would walk up the hill and wait beside the gravel country road for the big yellow bus to pull up. The bus route took about an hour to get around to all the houses where the country kids lived. I remember the Thompson kids always smelled like they needed baths and you always knew what the Kelly kids had eaten for breakfast. I guess it’s not a bad thing to get on the school bus smelling like bacon.

Funny the things we remember from childhood, isn’t it?

What I remember most about those early years, living out in the country, was how comfortable I felt there. Like I was born to be a country girl. Free to grow, learn, and become whoever God wanted me to be.

Living next door to my grandparents was the best part. They were always there. Whether I needed help with a term paper for school or a ride to a school concert because my parents were working late. It didn’t matter what they were doing. Whenever I needed help or just wanted to sit on the couch and visit, they always made time for me. The love of a grandparent is so amazing. I knew it as a child because I could feel it emanating from them. (Now, I live it every day because I have five grandchildren of my own who are invaluable to me. They are my heart! It’s a difficult emotion to describe. It’s one that must be experienced. I believe any grandparent would agree.) My grandma made delicious fruit cobblers, planted and harvested a garden every year, had lots of chickens, and at one time, a goat named Clarence. My Pappy played the guitar, sang, drove around the property on his tractor, and smelled of Old Spice cologne and cigars. I was so blessed to have grown up around them. They both showed me what the meaning of love and family truly is.

My summer days were filled with building forts, making mud pies, playing with salamanders by the creek, picking wild flowers, walking on top of the log fence that surrounded our front yard, playing in the pasture with the neighbors grandkids, visiting my grandparents, taking long walks while talking to Jesus, and hanging out with my sister. Then when fall rolled around, it was back to climbing the hill to the bus stop, going to school, and studying. I didn’t care anything about being popular or wearing trendy clothes. I don’t think I even knew what those two things were until I entered junior high. The only reason I realized it then was because everyone made such a big deal out of it. It wasn’t important enough to me to be worried about, I guess. I was quite awkward in 7th and 8th grade. Crooked teeth and crooked hair. My parents couldn’t afford salon hair cuts so my mom did the best she could when my bangs got too long.

We didn’t have a lot of material things growing up but it just didn’t seem to be important. We went on a lot of family trips with my aunts, uncles, and cousins and had picnics along the way. My fondest memory was a trip we took to the mountains somewhere. I don’t recall where we went or what the actual plans for the day were but the greatest memory from that trip was making coleslaw with my grandma, sitting on the sidewalk! I don’t know how many grandma’s bring a vegetable chopper on a picnic to ensure the family had fresh coleslaw to go with their hamburgers but I can assure you, mine did! She was one of a kind, my grandma Elvy! She even wore dresses and hats while she did it, too. She was so much fun! I miss her and my Pappy every single day.

My life was so full of love and acceptance. Don’t get me wrong, we had our dark moments as well, just like all families do. My dad would get angry and yell at us from time to time or even thump us on the head with his big finger. My oldest sister would punch me and leave bruises now and then and my little sister got on my nerves more than once. No one is perfect and we all have issues but, for the most part, the people in these pictures loved me, valued me, and showed me Jesus. They never tried to change me or tell me I had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. We were a family and that was enough.

I guess the reason for this walk down memory lane is to remind myself of the values that were instilled in me from the time I was a little child. I grew up believing you treat others the way you want to be treated, and you were truthful and had integrity. I was taught these should be the most important aspects of your character. They were attributes to be protected and lived out in your daily life. If you gave someone your word, it was your bond. It was something you would never even think to go back on. It sounds cliche’ but it’s true: honesty is always the best policy. Back then, I assumed everyone who called themselves a Christian had those same convictions. I just expected if you said you were a follower of Jesus, you did your best to act like it. Not perfect by any means but that you lived out your day to day life as God would have you to. I always did my best to find the good in everyone. I tried to focus on the good qualities each person had and what made them valuable in my life.

Little did I know the convictions and values I’d grown up with, were about to be challenged and, very subtly, stripped away from me. I didn’t even realize it was happening.

I clearly wasn’t prepared for someone as experienced in the world as was my ex. He was nine years my senior and had already been in the Army for just shy of two years when we met. I was young, naive, and very trusting. I really didn’t have any reason to mistrust. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I’d lived a pretty sheltered life and didn’t have much experience with the world. I was a country girl at heart and just expected others to be truthful. It’s probably why he saw me as such an easy target. Young, naive, and one he could manipulate very easily.

In the early days of our marriage, I recall the Lieutenant (my ex) telling others he married a young wife so he could “train me”. I used to think it endearing. Now, I know it to be nothing short of controlling.

I think, in some ways, I must’ve known he was my complete opposite. I was quiet in those early days and hardly uttered a word. Whereas, he was loud and always had to be the center of attention. He was always dolling out advice or telling an off-colored joke. And yet, I completely adored him.

I truly did.

In 1987, we were stationed in Maryland for the Captain (he’d been promoted) to attend the Officer’s Advanced Course. One night I overheard him having a phone conversation with his dad. It was before cell phones so he was stuck to the perimeter of the kitchen, as the phone was attached to the wall. I heard him talking so I started down the stairs to join him, when I heard him say, “But, Dad. She has no value(s).” 

You have to know those six small words stopped me in my tracks. I sat down on the stair I’d been standing on because I was too stunned to go any further. As I sat there, I could no longer hear the one-sided conversation going on in the kitchen. Those six words were the only thing I could hear, going over and over in my mind. At this time, we had only been married about 4 years. Our daughter was two and a half and I was pregnant with our second child.

When I heard him winding up his call, I quietly retreated to the bedroom so he wouldn’t know I’d been privy to his conversation. When he came up the stairs and into the bedroom, he acted completely normal. Not at all like the man I’d just heard defame me to his dad.

It made me wonder who else he talked to about me in this way.

It was very difficult to recover from that. Especially since I didn’t want him to know I accidentally overheard his conversation, for fear of retribution. That meant I had to pretend I didn’t know anything and I’d have to ensure I didn’t act any differently for fear of giving myself away. I had to push my emotions down and not let them affect me. And yet, I had to continue to live day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year knowing the true feelings of my husband, as he was at that time.

He said I had no value.

For the rest of our marriage, those six small words he’d allowed himself to speak became the words I based the entire worth of my existence on. Once I heard them spoken, I believed them. Just as I believed everything he said about everything he had an opinion on. Which was everything. If he said I had no value, then, by golly, it meant I had no value. I didn’t dwell on it but it was as if once those words were spoken aloud, the enemy seared them into my heart and mind. I became those words. In that moment, sitting alone on those stairs, I became less. I no longer felt his equal; his partner; his helpmate. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had just become nothing more than his slave. I no longer felt cherished or loved, or valuable in any way.

I was 23 years old and the man I completely adored, the love of my life, had just basically reduced me to nothing.

And that’s exactly how I’ve felt for the last 34 years.

A nothing, with no value or worth.

I never told him I knew. It wouldn’t have mattered if I had. He would’ve just laughed it off or told me I’d heard him wrong or he was talking about someone else. I knew he was not. He was talking about me. When I was in school, I overheard kids when they made fun of me so I was familiar with the emotions hurtful words stir up. His words felt no different.

~ A Retreat to the Mountains ~

Sometimes you just have to get away from everything that is familiar, to relax, refocus, and be refreshed. I was starting to become overwhelmed with work and with all the responsibility that comes with owning a home. My home is my happy place and I’m very grateful for it but I felt I needed to spend some quiet time with God, where both yard work and housework wouldn’t be a distraction.

I thought about going to the beach. I love the beach. I never tire of watching the waves roll in and out. It marvels me how when God created those massive bodies of water, He told them they had to stop at a certain place so they didn’t take over the land. What an awesome God He is! Even the wind and the waves obey Him. (Matthew 8:23-27)

When I couldn’t find accommodations available at the beach, my next choice was the mountains. To be honest, spending time there didn’t really appeal to me. Oh, I love the mountains but the last experience I had on a mountain getaway, did not end well.

It was supposed to have been a romantic weekend getaway but ended up being the complete opposite. A beautiful afternoon on top of Lookout Mountain ended in a tirade of hateful and harsh words from his mouth to my ears, which led to lots of tears from my eyes. When we returned to the hotel, I started packing my things and told him to take me home. He didn’t argue. He acted like everything was perfectly fine and I said nothing the entire way home. I kept my head turned toward the window and wiped occasional tears from my eyes.

I remember that trip like it was yesterday. It was the last trip we ever took anywhere together. After that, I even stopped going to the grocery store with him. I was nothing more than someone standing in the way of how he wanted to live. I didn’t know it at the time but God had already begun moving things into place to rescue me from that prison.

So, it was clear the mountains of Tennessee weren’t an option for me. However, Tennessee isn’t the only state nearby with mountains. I broadened my search and found a cute little cabin in the mountains of Georgia. I knew I didn’t need a big place to rest but needed to stay within my budget. I continued to look for several days but couldn’t find anything better than the first cabin I’d found so decided it must be the right place.

It was perfect!

It was completely surrounded by trees. You couldn’t even see it from the main road. I wanted secluded and that’s what God delivered!

I spent four very restful days there. I never left the cabin. Not even to go outside. I took all my food from home so I didn’t have to drive anywhere. I had my coffee, my Bible, my journal, my laptop, and, as always, Jesus! I’m so thankful He’s with me wherever I go!

I had no plan nor agenda for how the week would go. I didn’t want either. I knew God had led me there for a purpose so I waited on Him.

I spent my days reading, writing, praying, and waiting. I listened as the rain fell gently on the roof above me and watched the birds flitter about outside the window in front of me. One day, I was even graced with the presence of a mama black bear and her two cubs, walking down the road in front of the cabin.

On the day before I was to go back home, I was sitting at the little table in the kitchen, praying, when I felt the all familiar touch of the Holy Spirit on my heart. He spoke not a word but I heard Him very clearly.

The night before, my two daughters and I had been texting back and forth, basically chatting about whatever was happening at the moment. It’s usually how we communicate with each other. Anyway, Heather’s in-laws had been visiting and, being the helpful person she is, her mother-in-law decided the pantry needed some attention. Heather sent a picture of her rearranged pantry and wasn’t too happy about it. Then the conversation between the three of us ensued. For example: we mentioned how hard it is to find things when cans are stacked on top of each other and how much easier it is to locate what you need when separated into categories or type, etc. I told Heather I separated my canned goods into categories like that, too. Then Kimi said she did the exact same thing! That started another conversation about why didn’t other people understand or see the logic behind separating their canned goods into categories so they can be located easily, etc. I told them we should write a “how to do things our way” book. (The three of us have a lot of fun in our group text.) The last two texts from my girls brought the breakthrough I’ve waited a very, very long time for. Thirty-four years, to be exact. Ever since the day I heard my ex say I had no value.

Kimi said “someday they’ll arrive” and Heather responded, “only if they’re lucky enough.”

As they were growing up, both of my girls had been watching the way I did things; like how I arranged my pantry. When you’re in the middle of life, things such as that aren’t really noticed and seem quite silly in the grand scheme of things. I mean, pantry organization is a good skill to have but it doesn’t compare to the moral and spiritual values you pray you’re teaching them and leading them into. All we can do is the best we can with what we know at the time. And that’s what I did. I guess you never know how much your kids observe you as a parent when you’re in the throes of parenting.

I sat at that little table, in that little cabin, in the beautiful Georgia mountains and cried until I had no more tears.

Of all the things God could’ve used, He used a conversation about canned food arranging to show me I do have value!

I didn’t think I’d ever taught my girls anything they would value enough to implement into their own lives. I’d been convinced I had nothing to give them because nothing I did was ever good enough. I’m not exaggerating even the slightest bit either. If I cooked anything, it was either too dry or too tough or too salty. If I mowed the grass, he’d criticize my effort and say, “Why did you do it like that?” If I rearranged the furniture, he would tell me he didn’t like it. If he was busy doing something and I asked him a question, he would abruptly stop whatever it was and either roll his eyes or sigh very loudly so I’d know he was irritated for being interrupted. He probably had issues with the weight I gained while pregnant and the way I gave birth as well! Oh, trust me, had he been given the ability to do those things in my stead, he would’ve gained the perfect amount of weight and said he gave birth better than anyone else in the history of the world ever! Oh, and then he would’ve told everyone he met what an awesome man he was! (Okay, I’m being a little facetious about the pregnancy part but not about the level of arrogance that resides in that man’s heart.) He thought he was the only one who knew how to do anything and everything the only way it should ever be done.

To him, I was nothing more than an inconvenience that just needed to stay out of his way.

So I did.

Since I started on this journey of finding my new normal, there have been so many times God has used the most seemingly insignificant things to show me who He is in my life and how much He loves me.

My girls observed things I did as they were growing up just like I observed my mom. To them, it just seemed natural to arrange their pantry’s in like manner because I did it that way. As I grew up, I watched my mom make complete meals with just the few things she had in her pantry. I always marveled at her ability to do that. I had no idea my girls watched me in the same way. I made all those same inexpensive meals for them as they grew up. To this day, those three wonderful kids of mine still want me to make “poor people food” from time to time. (That’s just what we call it.)

I know all of that might seem silly (and it probably is) yet, to learn after years of struggling with very low self-esteem, thinking I had no value, and feeling as if I were not good enough for anyone or anything, finding out both of my girls arrange their pantry’s just like me, was like snuggling up in a warm blanket on a very cold night. When the Holy Spirit touched my heart with that revelation, I was instantly covered in warmth, comfort, and it was as if I could almost feel my heart being healed in that moment. That’s when the floodgates of my eyes were opened. I cried until I had no more tears.

I am someone of value!

I don’t believe I’ve ever said that about myself before and I don’t mean it in a haughty or a prideful way. These were the unspoken words from my Father when He gently touched my heart that morning during prayer.

For the past 34 years, I have believed and lived a lie spoken from the lips of a man who has no clue what the true meaning of value is. If he did, he wouldn’t have chosen the life he did and walked away from his wife, his three children, his two sons-in-law, and his five grandchildren. He is out there in the world chasing after the “simple life” he said he wanted and I’m sure he’s nothing short of miserable.

But I have realized, through the power of the Holy Spirit, that God allowed (not made…He allowed) that man to choose his own way and choose to cheat on me, which resulted in the greatest heartache of my life. However, it was ALL in order to set me free from an abusive relationship God knew was mentally killing me.

Brings a whole new perspective to this scripture.

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.”

~ Romans 8:28 NKJV

And this one.

“As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, in order to bring about this present outcome…”

~ Genesis 50:20a AMP

That is grace! That is goodness! That is provision!

And that is why we must trust Him.

We must! 

At the time it was happening, I couldn’t see that it was His grace or goodness or provision, and my trust was shaky at best. All I could see was that my entire world had crumbled and how in the world would I live without him.

Now, it’s quite the opposite.

Now, I wonder how in the world I lived with him for as long as I did!

The next morning, I left my cabin retreat for home. God blessed me with a beautiful day to make my way back down the mountain. I packed up my little car, programmed the GPS, and started for home with renewed hope in my heart.

An hour or so into my drive, I crossed the state line into Tennessee. I was following the GPS, thinking I was on the same by-pass highway, around the city of Chattanooga, I had taken on my trip to the cabin a few days before. I realized I had somehow missed the by-pass when my surroundings started to look familiar.

A little too familiar.

It was then I saw the sign for the Chattanooga Aquarium and I knew exactly where I was. I was within a few blocks of the hotel my ex and I stayed in on our last trip there. The very same trip when he cussed me out on top of Lookout Mountain.

Instant panic attack! No warning. No trigger. Just instant tears and crying out, “Please, Jesus! Get me out of here!”

Somehow I managed to cancel the current route in the GPS and hit the right button that had my home address saved to it. I drove past the hotel then immediately made a right turn at the next street, where I ended up in a left turn lane. As I made the left turn, I saw the restaurant where we’d shared an awkward evening meal the night we left town. When I was stopped by a red light, I noticed I was right in front of the on ramp to the Interstate that would take me in the direction I needed to get me home. I know the only way I was in the exact place I needed to be was because Jesus drove me there. I don’t remember making any conscious decisions about turns nor did I check for other traffic that was near by. I had tears streaming down my face and couldn’t see well so I don’t remember exactly how I got to where I ended up. I just know Jesus had control of the steering wheel and He drove me to the entrance of the on ramp. I believe that with every ounce of my being.

Once I was on I-24, headed back towards Alabama, I started thinking about that little detour through downtown Chattanooga. It felt planned. As if the had enemy had set me up.

It didn’t make sense that I ended up in the exact same place as the last trip with my ex. Chattanooga is a big city and I just “accidentally” end up in the exact area of the hotel we stayed in and drove right by the very restaurant we ate in the night before we left that horrific weekend behind?

I don’t think so!

The enemy didn’t like my breakthrough. He didn’t like the fact that all the years of me feeling like nothing and being of no value, miraculously reversed with the touch of my Savior’s hand! The enemy hates anything and everything to do with God. When one of God’s children has victory over a stronghold in their life, he gets mad!

I was happy it made the enemy mad. It tells me I am on the right path to where God is leading. I surely don’t know what lies ahead but I’m ever so thankful that He is in the lead and has me in His grip.

The love the Father has for us is unfathomable! It is absolutely something so vast we cannot even comprehend it.

There is a very old hymn I grew up singing in church. It’s about the deep, deep love of Jesus. The writer brilliantly puts words together that compares the love of Jesus to a vast ocean.

How big, how deep, and how wide is the ocean? Can you even wrap your mind around that thought?

I want to share the words with you because even just reading them, will explain how very deeply our Savior loves us.

O the deep, deep love of Jesus!
Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free,
rolling as a mighty ocean
in its fullness over me.
Underneath me, all around me,
is the current of Thy love;
leading onward, leading homeward,
to Thy glorious rest above.

O the deep, deep love of Jesus!
Spread His praise from shore to shore;
how He loveth, ever loveth,
changeth never, nevermore;
how He watches o’er His loved ones,
died to call them all His own;
how for them He intercedeth,
watcheth o’er them from the throne.

O the deep, deep love of Jesus!
Love of ev’ry love the best:
’tis an ocean vast of blessing,
’tis a haven sweet of rest.
O the deep, deep love of Jesus!
‘Tis a heav’n of heav’ns to me;
and it lifts me up to glory,
for it lifts me up to Thee.”

~ Samuel Trevor Francis, 1890

My time in the mountains changed my perspective about many things.

My time in the mountains made me even more thankful for being rescued by my Heavenly Father from the bondage of an abusive marriage.

My time in the mountains gave me a gift.

A gift I didn’t know I lacked and yet, somehow, I did.

A gift that taught me I do have worth.

A gift that turned me from nothing, into something.

Something of value.

(My favorite arrangement of the hymn above is by the 2nd Chapter of Acts. Click here to listen and worship with the video.)