Guilty, but Not Charged
by Amy Hayes

Guilty!

The judged pronounced as the gavel came down hard. There I stood, head down, hands cuffed, ready to be carted away to my sentence—death! It all seemed like a dream. A dream, a dream, that’s it! I awoke with a jolt, breathing hard and visibly shaken. Wow, what relief. Yet it all seemed so real, so possible. I shuddered as I shook off the disturbing dream.

But the truth was I lived every day of my life feeling guilty, as if somehow I was less than everyone else, unworthy of anything, including the air I breathed freely into my lungs. I was living life like an imposter. Feeling that if anyone knew the real me, they would laugh or even scoff. What a joke, I heard them thinking.

My parents were good people who took me to church, sent me to private school and tried to teach me to do what was right. I wanted to be good, to do right and make my parents proud. But regardless of how good I was, I never felt good about myself. The standards were always a little higher, never quite attainable. My worth was tied to how well I could perform. Approval and affirmation were non-existent. I lived in an emotional vacuum devoid of any love or affection.

School was one place I could shine. I always got really good grades, straight A’s until tenth grade when I brought home that first B. I’ll never forget the feeling of anxiety, knowing I’d failed. I nervously stood by while my dad, the perfectionist, scrupulously inspected my report card. He finally looked up over the rim of his glasses and said, “What happened here?” pointing to the ‘B.” My heart sank, as I felt that all too familiar feeling of “Not quite good enough.”

I also excelled musically. At age thirteen, I ranked in the state as a pianist and was invited to play for the all-state competition. At fourteen, I sang the lead in my high school musical. I loved to sing, but I was painfully insecure. My dad was a singer, known in our community for his talent. He gave me a handful of lessons, but I was sure my vocal ability didn’t impress him. He never commented on my performance, so I assumed the worst. I enjoyed the thrill of performing very much, but I kept it to myself, thinking my parents would not approve. I kept my emotions to myself with no one to share my joy. I lived a solitary existence inside my soul.

I continued to try and please my parents, following the rules, doing the best I could at all my endeavors. My parents never showed love nor said I love you. I longed to feel important, valuable and just plain loved. But all I felt was empty and hollow inside.

Eventually the luster of “being good” started to wear off. There didn’t really seem to be anything in it for me, so I began to push the envelope a bit. I sought the attention of boys in an attempt to feel loved. I went on dates behind my parents’ back, sneaking out after they were in bed. This secret life of deceit brought with it feelings of guilt and shame. I justified my actions in my mind thinking, “Would God really mind? All I wanted was a little love. Surely He understood.”

As my high school graduation neared, I was filled with feelings of worthlessness and failure. Although I ranked second in my highly competitive class, the outward accolades did little to fill the void in my soul. I was looking for love and affirmation so I married my boyfriend shortly after graduation. I was two months pregnant at the wedding, but no one knew.

Shortly after the birth of our first child, my husband lost interest in me as my attention focused more and more on our daughter. Two more children arrived within seven years. I gained a bit of satisfaction from being a mom, but my husband’s waning interest left me, once again, with feelings of failure and rejection.

I continued going to church trying to find the peace and comfort I desired, but the loneliness only continued to grow. My heart yearned to be cherished and men continued to be a snare. After ten painful years of marriage, I found myself in a full-blown affair.

The divorce was long and messy and involved a nasty custody battle. The children that had been the joy of my life were snatched from my hands. I was devastated, feeling as if my heart was ripped out of my chest. The rocky foundation of my life finally crumbled. I became pregnant by my lover who was in no way fit to be a husband and father. He was a drug addict.

My family and my church frowned upon divorce. In addition, my pastor refused to marry my lover and me due to the untimely pregnancy, the final seal of disapproval. So I committed another unthinkable sin. We moved in together. I was making my own rules at this point, and my self‐image plummeted. I felt like a fringe member of society. What kind of example was I setting for my then teenage children? I foolishly tried to pretend everything was fine, put on a happy face and hoped that that no one would notice this ramshackle life I was living.

I drifted further from the traditional roots of my childhood and began questioning the validity of the teachings and beliefs of my religion. How could a loving God condemn me for wanting to be loved? Didn’t Jesus die for my sins? Were mine too terrible to be forgiven? My questions went on and on. I continued to go to church almost daily, seeking the answers to my questions. Deep in my heart I knew there must be answers that made sense. Then something wonderfully unexpected happened.

I visited another church, a very different kind of church, with a friend. I was looking for some contemporary music for our youth at my church. Little did I know this would turn out to be a date with destiny. I went looking for contemporary music, but I found so much more. It turned out to be a life-changing event.

First of all, the church was packed wall-to-wall. Everyone seemed happy to be there, unlike my church where we went out of duty fearing punishment if we missed. As the music began, the place erupted in joyful singing. And everyone sang, even the men! In my church, very few people actually engaged in the service. We just “did our time” and became fidgety if the service ran long.

As the music slowed to a more subdued level, I noticed nearly everyone had their eyes closed, hands lifted to heaven and seemed transported to another realm. I had never seen anything like this. These people knew something I didn’t know. I wanted what they had and was determined to get it.

Week after week I returned. I would go to my church on Saturday evening and come to this new church on Sunday morning. After about six weeks of this, one Sunday morning I was standing in the back, hoping I could make it through the service without having to leave as my allergies were acting up badly.

Suddenly it was as if an internal screen appeared in my heart. I could see Jesus hanging on the cross. I had always known Jesus died so that we could be forgiven of our sins, but at that moment, I realized I was forgiven of my sins. He had paid the price for all my faults, failings and not measuring up. Oh, I get it! He was the Lamb of God offered as a sacrifice for sin, all sin, my sin, once and for all. I didn’t have to earn it with good behavior like I believed all my life. He had done it. I was forgiven, guilt-free, and perfectly acceptable to God. I was free!

I felt as if the windows of my soul flew open, the sun shone in with a brilliant light. A fresh wind blew through, clearing out all the guilt, shame and condemnation that I felt from not measuring up. All the darkness inside evaporated in the presence of this wonderful light.

Such a burden of guilt was lifted from my heart that my appearance literally changed. Everyone I knew was shocked at the transformation in me. “Did you lose weight?” “Color your hair?” “Get a tan?” They couldn’t figure out what it was. I was glowing from the inside out.

My external circumstances didn’t change; in fact, things got worse after that, but my perception of myself changed 180 degrees. I now saw myself as God saw me, perfectly acceptable. No longer did I have to work for or earn God’s approval. No longer did I have to worry if I would be good enough to “get into” heaven. I was adopted into the family of God. My future was sealed in a blood covenant between Jesus and God made on my behalf. Wow! What a gift!

I was free to live my life from approval rather than for approval. God had an adventure waiting for me, and life took on a new meaning. I had heaven on my side, and God was using every negative experience of my life for good in the lives of others. He took the shattered pieces of my makeshift life and created a masterpiece.

I’m still a work in progress and continually stand amazed at God’s ability to use this fragile piece of clay to accomplish His work in the earth. But Jesus said we would do even greater things than He did. To those who believe he gives the right to become children of God, His Spirit takes up residence inside our hearts and works through us to bring heaven to earth. We can change the world, in spite of ourselves, in spite of our shortcomings, in spite of not measuring up when we surrender to the Lord. That is nothing short of miraculous.

I may be guilty, but through the blood of Jesus Christ, I am not charged!

Amy Hayes is an author, speaker and mother of eight children. She is passionate about helping parents raise successful kids. Her books include How I Raised 8 Amazing Kids in Spite of Myself and Parenting with Grace. In her spare time Ms. Hayes enjoys nature.