Monday Memories

Monday Memories: Did I ever tell you how I COMMITTED MY LIFE TO CHRIST? It was about this time of year...10 years ago. But first, you gotta hear how I got to that point. You know, God started romancing my heart from my very first breath, I'm certain. And, ironically, that thought alone leaves me totally breathless. In hindsight, I can see Him so clearly, in every minute detail of my life....and then I think, "This is His gift to mankind - how many infinite details of the billions of lives He's been intimately involved with must there be?" WOW! So, there was a long, long road between my physical birth and the spiritual rebirth that took place when I committed to the Lord. I've mentioned before that my parents were teen parents, and the difficulties which ensued from thereon in my life. Poverty, abuse, mood disorders, substance abuse, shame, guilt, and many other factors tried to choke the Life out of me before it ever took root in my heart. I remember as a child, tagging along with the neighborhood grandmas to church. Vacation Bible Schools often camped out in the housing projects down the street in the summer. As a latch-key child, I was often in attendance. I remember ever so vaguely saying a Sinner's Prayer with an elderly woman when I was 6 or 7 in the clubhouse of the projects. Many seeds were planted, but lay dormant for a number of years. A very dark period of my life hit from age 12-18. When I was 13, Mom divorced my siblings' father, we lived a summer with my aunt and uncle in a very overcrowded housing situation, Mom soon "remedied" our living situation by nabbing a boyfriend at the bar she tended, and before I knew it, we were living with him. I rebelled. I bucked and fought at every attempt from my mother and new "stepfather" to conform to this new standard of living - there was chaos and disparity in everything we did now - I tried desperately to prove my worth and feel loved. When it became clear that this was unattainable, I did what all kids do instead; shoot for negative attention, and in the case of girls, sought it in the arms of boys with no-good intentions. I let my grades slip. I snuck out at night. I remember one terrifying night where a girlfriend and I snuck out, went with some highschool guys to a house - who we didn't even know, and proceeded to "hang out" together. I would have lost my virginity that night, had my girlfriend not interrupted, quite drunkenly. I'm ashamed to even talk about this- I didn't even know him! Thanks be to God, it wasn't to be that way for long. My parents discovered me, and while they did a lot of things wrong, I can say that they did the right thing in this instance and severely grounded me for a long time - til the end of the schoolyear if I remember correctly (and it was February). The summer I was 14, I was a ball of emotions, hormone-induced and otherwise. I'd made new friends and went to church with them sometimes. I especially remember a down-town Longview, WA church named Abundant Life Fellowship that took the youth out to Winchell's Donuts prior to services. The living situation was hell on earth, with the live-in common-law daddy being a man with a very Jekyll and Hyde-like alcoholic persona - my know-it-all attitude and intellect didn't help, and was rather like dumping gasoline on a fire. My mother, having economic setbacks with the divorce, had decided to pursue public assistance. The state realized that my biological father hadn't paid for child support when Mom had previously been on aid, so they pursued him for back child support, which led to me meeting him for the first time. I was 14, hating life, and trying to find answers to my tortured existence. I idealized my father in my mind, and when I met him with his wife and two sons, learned they were stable, and Christian (basically everything Mom was not) - well they became very WHITE in my black and white world at the time. That was September 1993. In November, Mom and the boyfriend/stepdad moved us all out to CO. Life really stunk then - I tried to fit in, and got involved with a really wacky and charismatic church - in keeping with my father's beliefs...that summer, at age 15, I went back to WA via Greyhound bus and spent the summer with my newfound Dad. My life changed forever that summer. When I returned to Craig, CO that summer, I was older, used, and more broken than ever. Not to mention disillusioned with the Christianity scene. I was pretty withdrawn, quiet, and just determined to change my life. I returned to goody-goody nerd mode, plagued with secrets; the newest secret being my struggle with bulimia. I determined to find happiness in something, even if it was years down the road via college and a career. I had a couple of friends, and during winter break of 1994, my future husband popped into my life, as a friend of a friend. Long story short, over the course of the next year, he liked her, she didn't reciprocate the feelings, he got over it, and in the process we fell for each other. He asked me to go to church with him and his family one Sunday. I faithfully attended, and grew in my understanding of the Lord. Despite his religious convictions, we ended up creating secrets of our own. Six months or so later, I was even deeper into the hole of bulimia. I was 17 and working at Burger King, prepping for my senior year, trying to get into colleges, and just get through the days. That night, I'd helped close the store. After work, I went to the middle school track and ran, and ran, and ran... I was so ashamed of myself, felt so dirty and worthless. I cried out to the Lord asking Him what He wanted from me - why was I still alive when I was so dead inside? The Words of the Bible answered my heart: Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. ...draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, have your heart sprinkled to cleanse you from a guilty conscience and having your body washed with pure water. Hold unswervingly to the hope you profess, for He who promised is faithful. ...And now what are you waiting for? Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name. Sobbing, I looked at my watch. 12:30 a.m....it's going to have to wait.  But it couldn't, this had to be shared. I drove over by the preacher's house and saw a light was still on inside. This bolstered me to go knock on the door. It made me think of all the years ago when an elderly woman explained to me that Jesus had said, "Behold, I stand and knock at the door.."  When he answered, I'm sure they thought something was seriously wrong, and with my family issues, it wasn't unlikely. I don't remember getting the words out. I do remember him asking if I would like to call Seth's parents (he was away at college) and ask them to be there for my baptism. I did, and moments later, we were at the church. I told my future mother-in-law everything about my father. I kept the bulimia, not to mention the things Seth and I had been doing, hidden, that was too shameful as it was of my own doing. I remember going on and on - to some, it would have looked like a mental breakdown. Finally, I was ready - the baptistry was frigid! I professed my faith, and committed my life to Him as I was immersed. I came up a different person - though many of my struggles lingered. As I've grown stronger in my understanding of the Lord, my walk with Him, and my convictions, those struggles have dissipated. Don't get me wrong - I still struggle, a lot. Depression is likely a lifelong companion for me, but the Lord is helping to carry that load, as are my friends and family. Bulimia? I've been binge/purge free for 8+ years now, and mentally free from the confines of my disease for about 5 years....it's a long hard process, but I can see the transformation, the purification the Lord has been working in my life, and I just humbly hope that He is pleased with the vessel through whom He's working. (That's your's truly by the way ;-) ) I'm nothing, really. But He thinks otherwise....enough to die for me. How can I not give Him my life in return?

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