Today, I’m interviewing Margot Starbuck, speaker and author of five books. We’re talking about her new book, Not Who I Imagined, Surprised by a Loving God. If you leave a comment from now through Sunday, I will enter your name in a drawing for a free copy of Margot’s book.

I started browsing through the book myself and soon became fascinated with what she has to say. Before I knew it I had read through two chapters.  Margot’s writing style is fresh, easy to read, and full of stories that lead you into a better understanding of the true nature of God’s love.

 Feeling Abandoned and Unworthy of Love

Linda: Margot, I’d like to start off with a little bit of your story.  You’ve said that losing caregivers to divorce is one of the things that shaped your view of God, and that because of that and other things, you gave God a face that said you weren’t worth loving or sticking around for.  Consequently, you weren’t able to trust a God who was truly with you and for you.  Could you tell us more about that? How could your caregivers have handled that better?

Margot:  As an infant, my first parents relinquished me for adoption. My dad left when I was six. My parents both remarried and those marriages ended by the time I was 15. What I learned about trusting people was that they went away. And, because we learn from people whether a reliable “Other” is with us and for us, I gave God the same face.

I’m so glad you asked how my caregivers could have handled it better. Each one—stuck in addiction, or violence, or mental illness—was doing the best they could at the time. What I wish they’d known was how very valuable it is to children to reflect the reality they’ve experienced.  A loving face that says “I’m so sorry you had to experience that,” or “I wonder if that felt scary to you” helps a child make sense of her experience and let’s her know that she’s worth protecting, nurturing, loving.

 Linda: I worked for an adoption agency for a time, and I know one of the things we encouraged birthmothers to do was to write a letter to their baby, telling them about themselves and why they made the decision they did to place the baby for adoption. Usually, an adoption decision is made out of love, not abandonment, but a child needs help to understand that.  I can’t tell you how many times I watched a birthmother cry her heart out as she relinquished her baby for adoption, but she knew the adoptive parents could care for her child better than she could at the time. It was truly a case of sacrificial love. Would it have helped you to get a letter like that?

Margot: You make a great point: there are so many instances when a parent’s absence—as a result of relinquishment, military service, disease, or death—shouldn’t necessarily be interpreted as abandonment. But, to a naturally egocentric child, they often are.

I was definitely told that my birth parents had loved me, but since we didn’t talk about them, they always seemed like—in the words of Donald Miller—“mythical creatures.” Like dragons! I think that if I’d received a letter like that, and my family had helped me talk about my feelings and losses, on special days like birthdays, Mother’s Day, etc., it would have helped.

Surprised by God

Linda: What happened that surprised you and changed your mind about God?

Margot: About ten years ago I was at the bottom of the pit. I was depressed and was really suffering emotionally. Into that darkness, when I raised my fist at God, God met me in one of the most palpable ways I’ve ever experienced.

I heard God speak four words: “I am for you.”  Later, more words, “I am the One who is with you and for you.” When I was still resisting, believing they weren’t from God, I saw a picture of Jesus on the cross. That’s what sealed the deal. In the moment, I knew that God wasn’t the Father who cavalierly sacrifices his kid, but this was the Father who gives his own life out of love for me.

I’d been a Christian for years, but that’s when I was at last able to separate being “loved” by fragile human people and being “loved” by One whose love does not, cannot, fail.

Linda: Though Christians will say God has redeemed them, your book talks about the fact that many of those same people have a hard time believing that God loves them here and now. You get pretty upset about this. Why?

Margot: I do think that we’re willing to say that God accepted us in the moment of our salvation—when we prayed a prayer or were dunked under water—and we’ll believe that when we die we’ll be received in heaven.

But what about now?!

Because so many of us live with shame, it’s harder for us to believe that God loves us, exactly as we are and not as we should be, now.

I hear God’s gentle whisper saying, “Now. Just as you are. I love you now.”

Linda: Speaking of shame, one of the big themes of Not Who I Imagined is that we can be set free from shame. What do you mean by shame?

Margot: By “shame” I mean that sense that we’re not quite acceptable as we are. It’s that voice that whispers in our ears that if we were a little bit better than we actually we are we would be, at last, worth loving.

That’s not God’s voice.

God’s voices says, “You are mine. You are worth loving.”

That’s the voice to listen to. And as we choose for that voice in every moment, as we agree with the voice that is true, we’re set free from shame. Thanks be to God.

Good Cop, Bad Cop

Linda: You suggest that some of us give Jesus and his Father the masks of “good cop” and “bad cop.” How does that impact the way we live and the way we relate to God?

Margot: As we search for the face we give to God, and we’re honest, some of us think that God’s face looking down on us is a little bit disappointed with our subpar performance. The divine expression communicates that God wishes we were a little different than we actually are. In the secret places of our hearts, we’ve given Jesus’ father a mask of judgment.

However, we’ve seen the children’s picture Bibles where Jesus is frolicking happily with children. He clearly delights in them! And we’re a bit more willing to believe that Jesus loves us.

Yet when Philip asks Jesus to show the disciples his Father, Jesus says, “I’m it! If you’ve seen this mug you know exactly what my dad looks like!”  (John 14:8, sort of)

There’s not “father of judgment” and “Jesus of love.” Same face!

Linda: What do you mean when you say we discover who we are in the faces of those around us?  Also, you talk about faces that lie and faces that tell the truth. Can you explain this?

Margot: Yup. The way that we discover who we are—whether we’re worth holding and feeding and nurturing and loving—is from the faces around us. Recent research on motor neurons has confirmed the ways that we register and record the faces of our earliest caregivers. If they found us unacceptable, we’ll find us unacceptable. If they found us worth loving, we’ll believe we’re worth loving.

Because God’s face says, definitively, that we’re worth loving, the faces that condemn, the ones that abuse, the ones that fail to confirm our inherent belovedness are all faces that lie.

Children, who are naturally egocentric, believe that what they get is what they deserve. Until a gracious face shines upon them, they may not know that the face that rages is one that lies about their worth. Whether it’s a grandparent or a teacher or a neighbor or an aunt, every one of us needs to see a human reflection of the Holy Face that shines on us.

 Helping our own Children

Linda: When we go through tough times in our marriage, particularly a separation or divorce, it’s inevitable that our children will be affected in some way. What can we do to provide that gracious face to them to ease their feeling of rejection and keep them from feeling they are unlovable?  Particularly if a parent has left, how do we help them see God’s loving face instead of the face of the parent who is leaving them?

Margot: It took a lot of therapy for me to learn the answer to this one!

It’s now my understanding that children can weather a lot, if they have one thing: a helping adult presence to reflect reality for them. That’s the mom who curls up in bed beside her child and whispers, “I’m so sorry you had to hear us fighting. Were you scared, baby?”  It’s the dad who acknowledges, “I miss you so much now that I don’t live in your house. It makes my heart really sad. I wonder what it’s like for you?”  It’s the parent who reflects, “I feel really angry that you’ve had to endure this. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you right now. Do you want to tell me?”

When a parent—either the parent who leaves or the one who stays—appropriately reflects concern and sadness and anger, I think they do show a child what God’s face is like.

Linda: That’s great advice—very helpful. How can people connect with you on the Internet?

Margot: I love connecting. Facebook is a good place, or www.MargotStarbuck.com

Note: By leaving a comment anytime between today through Sunday, March 9, your name will be entered in a drawing for a free copy of Margot’s book. Only those in the continental U.S. are eligible for the drawing because of shipping expenses, but you are always welcome to leave a comment.