After revisiting a video that had been made years ago of a friend of mine who is now deceased, I found myself reflecting on both her testimony and my own life. She shared that all of her children had become drug addicts, which she connected to her parenting as an alcoholic and to the abuse she suffered from her own mother. I also thought about other children’s stories I had heard—stories of adult children who had been deeply affected by parents who were not whole and who functioned in dysfunction. Altogether, it made me think even more deeply about why I chose not to have children.
For personal reasons, and because of choices I made, I decided a long time ago that motherhood was not for me. I simply had too many issues. Much of that was tied to insecurities I believed were rooted in traumatic events from my childhood. I was also stuck in a cycle of whining about those events, blaming my father’s aloofness and the fights between my parents. I turned to alcohol and other mind-altering substances to help me cope. Looking back, I believed I would have caused the same kind of emotional damage to a child that I had endured, and I would not have been able to live with myself afterward.
At the same time, I can also honestly say that if I had then the relationship with God that I eventually came to have, I may have trusted Him to help me in ways I did not trust Him back then. Years ago, I did not have the faith, healing, or perspective I have now. I did not yet understand, the way I do now, that God is able to help us in our weakness, mature us where we are broken, and guide us in responsibilities that feel bigger than us. I also would have been better able to understand my father, recognizing that he, too, had been wounded in his childhood and never even knew his father.
That realization has made me think about just how serious motherhood really is. Raising children is not casual. It is not something to step into lightly. It shapes lives—not just our own, but the lives of the children entrusted to us. And when we are not whole, when we are not healed, that impact does not stay contained. It spreads.
That is why I encourage young people to do the work needed to heal. Face what needs to be faced. Address the wounds. Seek God. Grow in truth. So that when the time comes for them to have children—if that is what they desire—they can present their best selves. Not a “perfect” version of themselves, because that is unrealistic, but a “healed” one.
And if marriage comes as part of that journey, then that too should be approached with honesty, healing, and maturity. Family is too weighty, too sacred, and too impactful to build on a broken foundation and expect no harm to follow.
This is not written from a place of shame, but from reflection. It is simply the acknowledgment that children are deeply affected by what is whole in us and what is not. And for that reason, healing matters, and Jesus is able to make the difference.
Peace & Blessing!
Yetta N.A.
If you would like to support this work, you can do so here:
Don’t quit in ’26.
Not because the road will be easy,
but because God is faithful even when the journey is hard.
=========================================
Keep Walking Towards the Cross. DON’T GIVE UP!
Until the next time, remember Jesus loves you
#modulatingtones
