An Imperfect Life, An Immeasurable Love

By Wanda Bailey Lattimore

At a young age, we begin to daydream and imagine how a perfect life might enfold. Naturally, we envision happiness, success, prosperity, and ease. While no one is exempted from walking a simple straight line between the start and end points of A and Z, some must travel a broken path with unforeseen detours. These deviations cause life to appear frightening, when faced with the angst of unknowns and faintness of direction, yet I caution you to believe that God has set us apart to exist at this time in life, orchestrating our lives for purposes that are defined only steps at a time.

Our imperfect paths amid His immeasurable and unconditional love serve to balance our willfulness with our obedience and, ultimately, frame our surrender of faith. Whether our conviction is grounded as an oak or rooted only the size of a mustard seed, Jesus knows the depth of our hearts and walks ever so closely, remaining watchful to lead us safely through our journeys as we appeal for the stability of steps.

His love is not mortal and, therefore, not flawed. It is safe to surrender to His authoring of our stories as we become His testimony, as divinely purposed of our first breaths.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798887515908

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An Imperfect Life, An Immeasurable Love

Wanda Bailey Lattimore

ISBN 979-8-88751-589-2 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88751-590-8 (digital)

Copyright © 2024 by Wanda Bailey Lattimore

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

10 Fun Facts About the Author

Personal Testimony—Wanda Bailey Lattimore

1

Mother's Womb

2

Toil and Labor

3

Judge Not

4

Desires of Your Heart

5

Understanding a Wider Lens

6

Integrity Is a Mirror

7

Fearlessness

8

Faith Unshakeable

9

Be Courageous—God Is in Control

10

Battling Evil vs. Good

11

Surrender to Wise Direction

12

Discipline Has Its Purpose

13

All Good Things

14

Fullness of Emotion

15

Rest in Confidence

16

He Chose Me

About the Author

To each of you, my children—

I believe God led me to pen this chronology of my faith-filled experiences and values and, in a subtle way, leave to the three of you my legacy of beliefs. It has been my greatest reward to be your mom. I say that not only for your comfort and assurance, to know my love in the deepest spirit of your existence, but because it is the most intimate truth of mine.

In each of you, I have seen the reflection of God.

Kelsey,

As I look at you, I see a golden heart of compassionate comfort and altruistic giving. Even as a small child, you were alert to the slightest whimper of Alex's or Shelby's cries. You would stand at their bassinet or swing and caress their faces ever so softly, as you looked to me eagerly to console their needs. Still to this day, at age twenty-nine, when you recognize a frail plea for help, you are zealous to provide consolation, come alongside, and intervene a solution. I'm grateful that you continue to find security in me to help at times, that I might be lucky enough to witness your intentional heart of virtue and grace. For all the times I haven't said, I've silently watched when you likely imagined no one was looking, and I couldn't be more approving and prideful of your kindhearted empathy.

Shelby,

You are the embodiment of inward and outward beauty. You emulate the essence of selflessness and humanity's benevolence naturally, without effort. I will never cease to recall the time in the third grade that I had given you a $50 bill for your November birthday. I had intended to take you shopping for whatever toy interested you most. Instead, you secretly took it to school. There was a holiday drive, and you wanted to donate it to the cause. I learned about it when I received a note from the teacher acclaiming your sweet generosity! I had so few dollars then to give you for your wishful eyes, and yet tears filled mine to know your heart was so sacrificial at such a youthful age. At age twenty-six, you still have an instinctual charitable love for all those fortunate to know you!

Alex,

I am awestruck with pride of the man you've become, exuding bravery, courage, morality, and integrity. I see in you the strength of independence, conviction, and self-assurance.

Each time I hear the lyrics to the song Simple Man, my thoughts immediately turn to you—

"All that I want for you is to be satisfied, be something you love and understand. Don't you worry you'll find yourself, all that you need is in your soul."

We've had tender moments of differences and disagreement, not unlike any other parent and child, but I will never cease to feel admiration for your determination, authenticity, and honorable character. All mothers imagine their sons with boldness and confidence, but you exude these qualities with abundant reserves. At age twenty-three and beyond, my prayer is that you always see yourself as the light you embody.

My enthusiasm and thanks, too, to the amazing Christian authors who have long inspired me—Joel Osteen, Joyce Meyer, Jentezen Franklin, Lysa TerKeurst, Marianne Williamson, Dr. Emerson Eggerichs, Rick Warren, Max Lucado, and C. S. Lewis, to name a few.

Lastly, my heartfelt love to my Bailey Bunch sisters—Beverly, Anita, Rhenda, Debbie, and Kathy Jo. Some of the stories shared within these pages are not only mine but also yours. Despite tears, heartache, and imperfect lives, I'm grateful that we have also known the unconditional, immeasurable love of God's blessings! I could never have asked for greater friendship than what you have given freely. You are my models of empathy, servantry, perseverance, resilient strength, and endurance.

10 Fun Facts About the Author

Blessed and honored to be intimately known to the highest royalty of King of kings

Privileged to be the mother of three beautifully amazing children (now adults) and four lovable animals

Loved by my five sisters, cherished family, and dearest friends, who have extended unconditional, ceaseless encouragement

Supported by colleagues and mentors, who have come alongside me to encourage, influence, stretch, and challenge the bars beyond reach

Fortified by the wisdom and compassion of evangelists and Christian authors, who fuel, inspire, and have always awakened optimism, hopefulness, and positivity

Impassioned by God, His sacrificial love of Jesus, His bequest of the Holy Spirit—that my life's trials and successes may encourage your belief against all odds

Authenticated by real-life events that, had they not happened, I could not have stood before you—a believer in the disciplined, however imperfect, act of faithfulness

Acquitted blameless before God and empowered by the prospect to publish my first ever book with Christian Faith Publishing

Thankful to have been granted the personal gift of writing and the professional gift of educational opportunities in healthcare informatics

Wishful that the impact and firm conviction of my words touch and open your hearts, as only God can intend

P

ersonal Testimony—Wanda Bailey Lattimore

Wanda Bailey Lattimore

Iwas born to Harry Dexter Bailey and Jewell Lilly Bailey on August 9, 1968, the sixth of their seven children (their first was a stillborn). They moved to Lorain, Ohio, from West Virginia in the late 1950s. My dad was an Air Force veteran, who worked at the Chevy plant in Parma, Ohio, and my mother (who had quit school in the eighth grade to help raise her siblings) became a stay-at-home caregiver of her own children. I'm certain they envisioned a life of happiness before them, but unfortunately, that dissipated early in their marriage. My father had turned to alcoholism and, unbeknownst to its foolish consequences, provoked a bar fight that ended with his cranium having been traumatized, broken with a baseball bat. In a moment of certain regret, life completely changed course. I was five years old when this event happened. Visiting at the hospital, I recall seeing my dad wrapped in a thick headband of gauze, unable to speak. Frightened by it all, I often cried to wait in the car. I remember the smell of hot asphalt and what seemed like long, tiresome hours stretched across the back seat of our station wagon. My dad was later discharged but soon vanished from our lives. My mom divorced him, and he went to live with his sister and her husband in Kansas City, Missouri.

To make financial ends meet, and suddenly tasked to raise six young girls by herself, she began ironing clothes on weekends and cleaning homes during the school week so she could still take us to and from school. I vividly recall the scent of starch as she spent long, tiresome hours at the ironing board.

Her stress settled in quickly and a strict quiet became the normal expectation of our household—to be seen but not heard. At the slightest hair trigger of noise, my mother would become verbally abusive, often followed by physical intimidations. My father's belt hung on a long nail at the door of our home, which served as a reminder, as we came and went, to be quietly behaved. Stressful circumstances only intensified when my youngest sister was diagnosed with bilateral hearing loss and needed costly hearing aids, bilaterally (in each ear). My mother had very few friends, having moved as a young adult from her Southern upbringing. As a result, we often heard her mumbling to herself or watched her writing lengthy letters she never seemed to send.

I was about the age of seven or eight when she was diagnosed with breast cancer, and we were told that she would be hospitalized for surgery. Her friend visited to care for us. Recovering from the hospital, having had a radical mastectomy, she was weak and tired, but it wasn't long before floodgates of anxiety seemed to destroy what was left of any normalcy. Her stress and anger had brimmed over average thresholds, and she endured what many believed was a nervous, mental breakdown. Neighbors often called the police when they heard screaming cries of belting abuse, but confusingly, they would come only to leave after a time. School became an embarrassment as the Bailey household dysfunction rumored through the grapevines.

I grew very isolated and fearful but also very cautious and observant.

One memorable day, a pastor knocked on our door from Grace Baptist Church. My mother welcomed him inside, and they chatted at our kitchen table. Our home was very small, a three-bedroom ranch slab, so it wasn't difficult to hear most conversations. I watched them intently as my mother wept. Soon, a small yellow school bus was arriving each weekend to pick us up for church. I went to Bible school, but having been conditioned to be quiet, I participated only by watching. Church seemed very confusing in my youth and became even more so when a man named Jesus was said to be so kind and loving, yet the church hosted bonfires in the nearby field, where we were told to burn our mystery books and vinyl records as an obedience to him. At a time not long after, I was submerged in water for what I believed was a drowning, without any understanding. I had spent so much time