THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, November 27, 1994 TAG: 9411230699
SECTION: HAMPTON ROADS WOMAN PAGE: 2 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Opinion
SOURCE: BY DEBRA S. CUNNINGHAM, SPECIAL TO HRW
LENGTH: Medium: 67 lines
I WASN'T HAPPY. At 29, I had everything I thought I wanted: a loving husband, two precious children and a beautiful home. Because my husband had a good job, I was able to stay home with my children.
The problem was not with what I had, but with what I didn't have. Is life nothing more than a series of regimented activities that string one day to the next?
Ashamed of my feelings, I talked to no one about my predicament. I searched for reasons for my unhappiness, but each reason was eventually discarded. The closest I can come to identifying the problem was that something was missing.
Why was I obsessed with finding meaning and purpose in life? Raising children is important. Why weren't the love of my family and the comfort of my home enough?
One day at ceramics class, I slipped even further into despair.
``Did you hear what happened to Victoria's boyfriend?'' a woman asked.
The usual conversation about this troubled couple held everyone's attention. I tried to look interested. It was amazing how much emotion was generated over characters in an afternoon soap opera.
After analyzing Victoria's problems, the group moved on to complain about their children's teachers, grades and friends. Finally, the conversation ended after 20 minutes of lamenting over the cost of sports equipment and ballet costumes.
``Just wait Debbie,'' said a woman with three children. ``When your kids get older, you'll have the same problems.''
Was that supposed to comfort me?
Must a woman talk about soaps to be interesting? Must a woman be absorbed in her children's activities to be a loving mother? That gnawing question shouted again: Is this all there is to life?
The search for meaning and purpose continued for over a year. Despite mental reproofs, self-help books and busy activities, all I found was more discontentment. . . and more guilt.
Although raised in the church, my problem seemed too insignificant to take to God. But I was desperate. I finally searched the Bible for answers and asked for God's help. The passage in Proverbs 16:3 comforted me: ``Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed.''
I felt the stirring of hope; maybe I could be happy. Slowly I began to realize that all of my energy and commitment centered on my family and me. Self-absorption was keeping me from God and from involvement with other people.
Excitement replaced hopelessness as I was propelled into this new awareness. It's as if I'd been living my life in black and white, and somebody just turned on the color. Nothing had changed, yet everything was different. I knew God was real and that He was calling me to serve Him.
My activities and my perspective changed. I began volunteering in my church and community. The daily routine was no longer meaningless. I was able to love other people in a way that I didn't know existed. The presence of Christ was changing me. It felt good.
Thirteen years later, my toddlers are now teenagers and my husband and I are approaching our 18th wedding anniversary.
My life is not perfect; there are times of struggle and disappointment. But the question that nagged me for so long never returned.
I found meaning and purpose with God in my life - and I'm happy. MEMO: Debra S. Cunningham is a resident of Chesapeake. by CNB