My Big Sister

The wind was howling and the rain was hitting the old trailer house glass window angrily.  I could feel the coolness of the air seeping around the poorly sealed windows.  A shiver ran down my little spine.  I was scared.  I sucked on my thumb and clung to my pillowcase in a vain attempt to sooth my nerves.  I looked around my room and suddenly every shadow was the possibility of danger.  I squeezed my eyes shut and decided to make a run for it.  My little feet hit the floor and quickly padded past my parents room and to the only person who could console me and make me feel safe.  I opened her door and whispered, “Beck beck are you asleep?” I saw her covers lift up and I knew I was in.  I leaped into her waterbed and snuggled up beside her tiny frame.  She put her arm over me simultaneously covering me with the blanket.  “You get scared because of the storm?” she asked.  I shook my head ‘yes’ without speaking because my thumb was still in my mouth.  “You know you can just keep sleeping with me if you want.  You don’t have to sleep in your bed…mom wont really care.”  But I knew Mom wanted me to start sleeping in my own bed, so I just nodded.  I put my ear to her chest. I could hear her heart beating…her breaths grew more rapid and shallow and she drifted to sleep.  My little eyes grew heavy… I was safe now. I was in the arms of my big sister. 

When I started writing this blog post I thought about including some of the tragedy that we faced and how we overcame it, but I think the victory is pretty evident and those memories have become something that both of us like to visit less and less.  I will tell you that having an adult relationship with my sister has been difficult.  You see dealing with the abuse brought about many emotions through the years, that were only complicated with our mother being gone.  We both had so many questions and so much anger…then I had Hannah.  Man! The birth of my daughter made coping and understanding almost impossible.  It was like being slapped in the face. My sister still hadn’t had her precious girls, so for the first time she was unable to relate.  During my weakest moments dealing with what happened to us, the one person who had always understood suddenly didn’t.  I dealt with my emotions being a new mom; finding acceptance and reconciling all of the emotions the best I could.  Our relationship was bumpy and then settled down, but there was still a divide that neither of us could fill. 

Six years later things changed, my sister gave birth to her first daughter.  I watched helplessly as the realization of pain and disbelief that I had faced, years earlier, hit her hard.  Again, dealing with all that pain as an abused child is one level of pain.  Holding your newborn child with overwhelming feelings of maternal love and protection…well your first question is, “Why didn’t anyone love me like this?  Why didn’t anyone want to protect me from the abuse?  I would KILL anyone that even thought of harming this baby girl!”  There are no answers.  Not only were we not protected from abuse, but also we were subjected to the abusers even after our mother knew about it! How? Why? No answers. Again, you gaze at your helpless infant with so much love, and so much sadness for the little girl inside of you who was neglected. 

As my sister struggled to reconcile her emotions, and our relationship continued to crumble.  I knew exactly how she felt, but I was scared to go back to that place of anger with her.  It had been so hard for me to let it all go and give it to God.  I would lie down at night and here her little voice, “Jodie, when he comes in here you pretend you are asleep ok.”  I would close my little eyes and endure her abuse as she protected me the only way she could yet again.  I couldn’t give up on us.  I couldn’t give up on her.  I knew she would never give up on me and even at our most tumultuous times I knew that she was only a phone call away if I truly needed her.  After all, even though we had been dealt this horrendous hand in life, she was my big sister.  The one who protected me from the storms of life.  I knew without a doubt under all of the pain we both suffered that had surfaced as anger…those two people who loved and protected each other were still very much there.

It came to a point where it was evident we both needed to have time on our own to deal with all the emotions.  We had both gotten to a point where we weren’t helping each other…we were only tearing each other down.  Neither of us wanted to pass this legacy of negativity to our daughters.  So, we did the hardest thing we’ve ever had to do…we stopped talking.  A year passed and the day came that I had been praying over for an entire year. We were ready to try to have a relationship again.  Now, some people will never understand the need to stop talking.  That is ok…most people have never had to deal with a tenth of what the two of us have.  When life gives you such circumstances you rarely handle them perfectly.  You handle them the best you can. That is exactly what we did.

Yesterday was our Christmas.  It was the best Christmas I can ever remember in my life!  We were both at peace.  Both of us had obviously come out of this storm on the other side and our hearts were finally calm and ready to accept all of God’s blessings.  I looked around at our families and tears pricked my eyes.  I mean…talk about an abundance of blessings! My sister and I have the most handsome and loving husbands.  Both of them would lay their lives down to protect our girls and us.  They are faithful God-fearing men who provide for their families, both financially and emotionally. Our babies are healthy and happy…running around playing and laughing.  Not one of those girls will EVER KNOW the hardships we had to face in their lives.  They are loved and protected above all else on this earth and that gives us both peace.  It’s amazing!  How did we become so blessed?

My sister and I were briefly discussing our lives and I told her, “It would have been easier for us had we gone through motherhood together.”  She agreed.  But, last night as I thanked God for the day and his guidance in our lives he whispered this truth to me.  Becky needed to be strong when I was weak, and I needed to be strong when she was weak.  So, God’s plan was best all along.  It was a huge blessing that we become new mother’s years apart! Wow! What an awesome God he is. Everything that happened to us was unfair and awful.  No one should have to endure it, but I have to say it is an awesome testimony to our God and it definitely makes us more humble and even more awesome moms.  We are pretty awesome at that anyway! Sometimes I get angry with people out age that had “perfect” childhoods…and squandered them.  I think to myself, why would someone take such a perfect gift and not propel themselves to more in life?  You were given such a strong foundation… My sister and I weren’t and we have both accomplished so much.  We had to fight for every victory in our lives at no fault of our own. Then my question is answered.  God doesn’t give you what you want.  He gives you what you need to choose your life and legacy.  It is up to you to take what you are given and glorify him.  My sister and I have definitely done that.  Not perfectly…but then again…it kind of is perfect.  Because...look at us now. Victorious. Highly favored.  Very loved.  Blessed beyond measure.  

My heart is full.

Butting Out of My Daughter's Life

Well here it is October of Hannah's 6th grade year.  Of course the old cliché applies.  How did this happen?  How is my child a "middle schooler".  To be honest this means nothing to me in the way that it should.  It means that my little girl is growing up and over the course of a few short months her entire life has changed.  Her life...yes, school is her life. I say that so that I can place the importance on school that it deserves.  A student is what my 11 year old is at this moment in time.  It makes up so much of what she focuses on both academically and socially.  It is the place that she is learning to function in the "real world".  So what does being a middle schooler mean to me?  It does not mean to me that my child is ready to face things with more autonomy.  It does not mean to me that I need to "butt out" and let her figure things out on her own. But doesn't it? These are the questions that I am contemplating right now.  This move has been much more difficult for me than it has been for her.  I promise. 

So the question remains... How much involvement is required in her life right now?  Now, we all know that I am a very involved and quite overprotective mom.  I know I am this way and up until recently it really hasn’t mattered.  All "elementary kids" benefit from an involved parent.  The elementary staff loves parental involvement.  This has always worked out wonderfully for me, since I enjoy being front row in Hannah's life watching with love and wonder as she grows and learns.  But, a new era has started and this Momma is going to have to adjust. Deep breath.  Change.  It's just change.  I love change...Okay, I hate change!  I especially hate change that means I have to let go a little. But, I can change and that is what is important.  The problem for me is deciding how to change and what exactly is needed from me at this point in her life.  I mean sometimes I feel like I am the only mother struggling with these issues.  I see other moms who go about their daily lives being perfect at this mothering thing.  They duck and weave, roll with the punches, and execute this juggling act masterfully.  Then there is me.  I am stumbling and praying.  I am probably on God's nerves just a little with as much as I talk to him about Hannah and this job he entrusted me with.  He is probably really wishing he had just left me with my fur babies at this point.  Seriously, it is hard for me. I want to be a great mother and I'm not always sure that I am doing it right.

Middle school has been fabulous.  The teachers are wonderful.  She is learning so much.  She comes home everyday very excited about her activities.  The faux "real life" drama has started during non-class times.  You know...the "he wrote me this note", "she is so dramatic, but we are friends"… She is figuring out how to navigate various personalities.  Her standards are being tested and she is making decisions daily about who she is and what she will and will not find acceptable.  It is really quite fascinating to watch your children grow.  So much learning takes place outside the classroom at school.  But, with middle school there have been a couple hiccups.  I guess those are kind of part of the learning process too.  Which brings me to my point.  My child is experiencing "life".  She is learning to hurdle obstacles and how to respond to people and situations.  It is very hard for me to let her do this without me.  I have not been able to figure out how to protect her from negativity.  I wanted her to get elected to student council and my heart was broken when she was bummed out about it.  I want her to only have positive interactions with people and it breaks my heart when I feel like she has to endure an unnecessary negative one.  I don’t want her to have D-Hall because she cant get to her locker, poor baby, but she got it.  I want her to master every academic challenge thrown at her, but she still struggles with a few things and I feel helpless to solve her problems for her. OH MY GOODNESS! What is that you say God?  It is not my place to solve her problems for her?  WHAT?  I am her mother!  Yes...yes.  I know I have been praying for your guidance and here I sit in Connect and you decide to slap me in the face with this while I am trying to lead a small group for the first time! Really God?  Sigh.  Okay. Okay... I'm listening to the actual words coming out of my mouth.  Words that I thought you meant for these middle school girls not me.  Yes my fellow parents God did this to me Sunday.

I excitedly approached the youth building for Connect, what my church calls Sunday School.  Earlier in the week I had been asked to sub for a class that does not have a leader.  Now, I have been praying about God's guidance on this topic.  I have wanted to lead a small group, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous or cause any awkwardness by asking and being told, "Uhm, no."  So I just volunteered in the capacity I had been asked and continued to pray that if God wanted me to lead a group he would open the door to that possibility.  When the text came through asking me to help I was just ecstatic.  Of course, this is a huge thing, to lead children at church.  It is a responsibility I don’t take lightly at all.  So, when I got my material for Sunday I reviewed it numerous times.  I read and re-read the verses, went over the study material's objectives, and prayed that God give me the right words for these girls.  Large group started and our youth pastor began to teach on the scripture.  I really enjoyed the lesson as I always do, and my stomach flipped a little when he dismissed us to small group.  I followed my girls upstairs to the room where we would further discuss the lesson the youth pastor had presented. 

I start out with an introduction and told the girls how excited I was to be leading them today.  They were so beautiful and very sweet to me. We jumped right into the lesson.  I explained to the girls that I loved to talk and visit, but I was serious about God and I knew that he wanted us to keep our discussions focused on him and his place in our daily lives. I explained how this would help them make better decisions and understand everyday things better.  They were very excited and we began our discussion.  Now, the weeks lesson was about when Jesus was with the disciples in a boat and the storm came. Jesus was asleep and they became fearful.  Jesus awoke and calmed the storms.  Our youth pastor had touched on something in large group that resonated with me.  I began the discussion by making sure everyone understood that we were going to talk about this physical storm in relation to our "life storms".  The girls began to open up and share some of their personal struggles.  Then I began to speak to them and God simultaneously began to connect the dots of my over protective mom dilemma. "Girls, like Brandon said earlier.  Sometimes God asks you to get in the boat and the storm still comes.  Sometimes even as Christians bad things happen to us...divorce, bullying, loss.  How do you all feel about that?"  The girls gave wonderful thoughtful answers about trusting God, and I pushed forward.  "But, there are times when things happen that we feel are unfair.  I want you girls to understand that God is not concerned with your comfort level. He is concerned with your eternity.  When we get really comfortable in life...we tend to not feel as though we need God in the center of things.  Another thing is that we don’t always seem to get is that God's will surpasses our understanding.  Sometimes we are looking at the immediate, but God is looking at the long term.  Sometimes you feel like a door is shut, but God is opening up the opportunity to serve him better and grow closer to him.  Maybe he is putting you in a circumstance to share God's message with someone who needs it.  We have to stop asking God for what we want and ask him instead for what he wants."  I took a deep breath and realized that I had accepted this for myself, but I had not yet accepted it for Hannah. THE LIGHTBULB WAS SHINING SO BRIGHT OVER MY HEAD I HAD TO SQUINT.

Over the last few weeks I have prayed to God at length about giving Hannah over to him.  I want him to have her and do with her life what he sees fit, but I really didn’t feel that way.  What I was saying to God is, Will you please make sure this child I love never suffers and that life comes really easy to her. Let her get good grades, go to a great college, meet the perfect Christian man at the perfect time, marry, have beautiful little babies, and die peacefully surrounded by loved ones at a very old age.   But, in this moment God revealed to me that an easy and perfect life may not prepare my child for what he has planned for her.  He showed me that smooth seas don't make skillful sailors.  I know it sounds silly and I "knew this", but God helped me to understand this in this moment when I was trying to give understanding to a room of middle school girls.  You see it is similar to knowing about Jesus and knowing who Jesus really is.  If you have experienced salvation that will make perfect sense to you. 

Suddenly I realized that I need to let go a little where it concerns Hannah.  He wants me to really give her to him.  Allow him to let her experience life...the good, the bad, and the ugly.  He wants me to allow him to help her learn to navigate these things.  Now, I do realize Hannah is just 11, and I still play a huge role in her life.  No worries I am not kicking her out of the house tonight.  I am just going to work on backing off a little bit and allow her how to make decisions and understand consequences without me interceding and "making it all ok".  After all when she leaves our home for college her curriculum wont be the only thing she faces.  She will need to be able to trust herself and the decisions she will make in her life.  Hopefully, when she is really confused she will always know Moma is just a phone call away (only if she really needs me)...

My Testimony

His face was red.  I looked upon from the pew beside my grandmother as his face became more and more red.  It was so red that it almost had an orange tint to it.  His hairy arms stretched toward the ceiling as his worn bible flapped back and forth above his head.  His voice raised and lowered in a crescendo of emotion as he urged the fellow sinners in the small country church to turn their life over before they met Satan in a fiery end to this life here on Earth.  I closed my little eyes and his words swirled around in my head.  I imagined a mean red man with a tail and horns.  He was belting out an evil laugh as he jeered toward me with his pitchfork.  I looked about and saw “hell” complete with bubbling pools of lava.  The large volcanoes were humming in the background and black smoke was billowing out… My eyes shot opened and I looked over to my grandma just as she shouted, “Amen!”  I was terrified and I knew that I didn’t want to end up at the other end of Satan’s pitchfork as he hurled me into the lava that would burn, but somehow never actually burn me up all the way so the pain would end.  I could barely comprehend all of this in my little mind, but I did enough to know that is not what I wanted.

I don’t recall actually saying the prayer of salvation.   I can vaguely recall my baptism.  The small country church we attended didn’t have a baptistery, so we visited another small church on Claude Rd.  I can recall the cool water and how odd it felt to be standing in it fully clothed.  My grandma was crying and she kept raising her hands above her head in a thankful pose to God as she prayed under her breath.  I was so glad to be “sealing the deal” and even happier my grandmother was so happy with my actions.  I looked out over the small crowd and spotted my mom and dad looking slightly uncomfortable.  This was another odd feeling as church was not a setting I was used to being in with them.  My grandmother was the one who picked us up on Saturday nights.  We ate dinner with her, showered at her house, said the Lord’s prayer, and went to sleep in her wonderful pleasantly squeaky bed.  I can still hear her box fan and feel the light breeze of night air being pulled through the window beside her bed.  The. Best. Sleep. I. Have. Ever. Experienced.  The next morning I would wake up to peace and calmness.  No one would be in grandma’s house that I didn’t know.  It would smell like coffee and cathead biscuits baking in the toaster oven on her table.  Then, it was off to worship the Lord.  My grandmother was extremely spiritual.  She spoke in tongues and testified at every church service with the congregation shouting amens at her story’s life struggles yet joy and offerings of praise despite it all.  Being with my grandmother was my peace in the storm of life.  Church was a place I loved, but I must admit didn’t fully understand.

We pulled away from my baptism and I was so relieved.  I wasn’t doomed to hell.  My family kept telling me how proud they were and we were all going to eat lunch at my parent’s house.  I made my plate and sat at the coffee table in the living room to eat.  I began to think to myself how great this day was and how much I loved my family.  Then my little heart sank.  I was pretty sure, from what I experienced, that my parents were not saved.  I then started to visualize this rapture Bro. Casey would always preach of.  I imagined being ripped away from my Mom and Dad, and them left to fight the tribulations.  I tried to calm myself and remind myself that grandma would be with me so I wouldn’t be alone…but what about Mom and Dad?  I knew I had to get them saved and baptized too.  So my subtle mission started.  I would make a way to talk about church, the few things I actually understood.  I would always tell my mom that “she missed a blessing today” when I walked in from church on Sunday.  This is what my grandma always told people who were absent the service prior.  One day my mom and I drove to Wal-Mart, and I told her I really wanted her to come to church with me.  I just knew I was frightened for her and I needed her to come to church and be safe.  She got really angry with me and screamed, “Enough! Jodie I will come to church when I am good and damn ready.  Do. Not. Say. It Again! Understood?”  I held back tears and swallowed down the nervous bile in my throat.  The only thing that scared me worse than a fiery hell, at this point in my life, was the wrath of my mom.  No more invitations were extended.  But I continued on my journey.  My grandmother had definitely planted a seed.  It was the nurturing that was needed now.

I think Hannah gets her “deep thinking” from me.  I found a little new testament Bible in a box a few years ago.  It was one that was given to me at school.  I opened it up and on the back inside cover I found this question, “God why do people do drugs and drink?”  I instantly recalled writing this and I just knew God would write the answer under it while I was asleep.  I had not one doubt I would wake up to an answer that would make my tumultuous life make sense suddenly.  I also remember the disbelief when I woke up and there was in fact no answer inscribed by God himself.  Life went on and I attended many church services where I listened to pastors preach content I didn’t understand.  I would try to pick up my bible and read it at home only to get confused and angry with myself.  I wanted to understand it all better, but it just wasn’t happening. 

I never had the urge to live a “sinful” life.  My parents were always heavily involved with drugs and alcohol and I never had a desire to live the life they lived.  As I grew and matured physically the sexual abuse I endured became more evident and unbearable until it finally ended.  The aftermath of that led me to a dark place of sin called hatred. So although I’ve never taken illegal drugs and I’ve only ever had sex with my husband my soul was saturated with sin that would probably make the occasional drug user seem like a saint.  If I could have murdered the abusers of my sister and myself, and not get caught, I would have. Period.  I was so unforgiving in my heart there was no doubt in my mind God did not live there.  This is the scary part of Christianity to me.  Often times we convince ourselves if we are “good people” we are saved.  NOT SO.  During the time between my grandmother’s death when I was in Jr. High and meeting James at 17 church going was spotty, prayer was on an “as needed” basis, and bible study was nonexistent.  So I just marinated in my anger and resentment. 

James was a breath of fresh air and a new perspective.  He went to church regularly and I, of course, wanted to see him so I went as well.  He sang in a quartet and I loved listening to him sing.  Over time the bible pieces started to individually make sense to me, and as I matured I was more able to understand the adult bible studies and sermons I sat through.  Let me take this time and say that this is the reason a youth program is a must for me as a mother.  I want the seed planted in Hannah’s heart to grow.  I want her to be able to understand the bible as it is taught to her on her level.  It does matter.  James and I married and we both promised God to honor him through our marriage and the family we would start.  Hannah came along and post partum depression raged.  I pulled away from God.  There have been many times in my life I have had perfect physical attendance at church, but could not have been more absent.  Completely checked out.  This was my situation at this point in my life. 

James and I came to the point where we realized we weren’t living our life as we wanted to, and we were definitely not honoring God by not being at church and growing in his word.  We also knew that Hannah deserved a relationship with him and the only way to do that was to get her in church.  So we visited Canaan Baptist church.  There we met a very enthusiastic young pastor who just made the Bible make sense.  I prayed to God to understand his word in a way I never had before. I wanted to be able to pass down the faith my grandmother had given me.  I still held on to my anger silently, but I put on a huge smile and started volunteering at our new church.  Surely if I worked hard for God, and just be a great “Christian” I would experience this happiness this pastor and the others in my Wednesday night group felt.  But let me be honest… I thought they were all full of crap.  They were smiling just like me, but on the inside I still had all these feelings of hate and resentment toward my abusers and my family.  I just knew they were hiding awful stuff in their heart too.  Just keep smiling Jodie… You are saved.  It happened when you were a kid remember? 

Then it happened.  During prayer I just knew suddenly, without a doubt, that despite the fact I had been a “great person” my whole life, that despite the fact that I was at church every time the door opened, that despite the fact I volunteered and cooked for potluck…that I was NOT saved.  I knew that God could not live in a heart this full of hate.  I trembled with emotion and tears.  I finally in that moment gave God all that hate and negativity for the first time in my life.  I had tried to in the past, but for some reason this was my time to really change on the inside.  I have to admit it was amazing.  I rededicated my life to God and went before our church to be baptized.  Although I called it rededicating because no adult wants to admit to a congregation that they were never saved…I know now that this was definitely the first time I accepted God in my heart.  Although I still had, and still have, days of self pity and will never understand some of the awful things that happened to me…I know without a doubt that I have forgiven my abusers and I pray in earnest that these men have accepted God in their hearts and are headed to heaven too.  I don’t choose to be a part of their lives here on Earth and I think God is ok with that.  But I honestly want salvation for them, and that is how I know that I was saved.  Since that point reading my bible comes easier.  The puzzle pieces continue to fall into place.  The Holy Spirit convicts me on a personal level daily.  My walk matures.  Oh I fall! Please hear me fellow Christians who may struggle with their lack of perfection… I FALL (what feels like daily), but God is inside of me, so I will not fail.  I get back up and I ask for forgiveness…and I use this messy crazy imperfect life as a big ole testimony.  And that my friends is what God had intended for me all along. 

I would also like to add that my Mom was saved before she passed.  Her darkness was lifted and she began to grow in God’s word.  She was a completely different person after she accepted God in her life.  Just like me she had her own unique struggles, but none of them were too big for God.  No one’s darkness is.  That is what is so great about my God and the sacrifice he made sending Jesus to die for our sins.  There is nothing more scary and daunting than stepping into God’s light.  You should know that.  I wanted to hold on to my anger and resentment.  It was the only way I could “right” all that happened to me.  But once I let it go and I accepted that God will reconcile all of that for me a weight was lifted that is just unexplainable.  My prayer is that you know someone out there understands the fear of letting go of whatever you are holding on to…but I promise you that God can and will replace what you are holding on to with more than you could ever imagine!