We all have a story, you know. It’s made up of the words and emotions that we use to describe our coming into the world, our childhood, our teen years, our twenties, and so on and so forth. It’s made up of sports we played, activities we were involved in and the friends we had and didn’t have. It involves our parents, whether they were there or not, our siblings, whether we had many, few or none, and any extended family that might have been around. Our story is what has made us into the people that we are today. The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. Here’s one thing that you might not know about your story....you are not the one who is writing it. Nope, not you not me. Fortunately we have the most amazing storyteller and author that there ever was who writes us directly into His story. His beautiful story of redemption and love. God is the author of our stories! Aren’t you glad?! I sure am, because I could have never written such a beautiful story like the one He wrote for me. This is my story....
I was born and raised and still live in the same town. My parents became Christians when I was little and because they were new to their faith and felt they didn’t have all the knowledge and tools that they needed to fully give us a solid foundation of faith they sent my sister and I to a private Christian school. I went to this school from preschool all the way through high school. I often said that if they had a college I probably would have went there as well. I have one sister who is two and a half years older then me. We had two dogs and, at most times, two cats. Nothing extraordinary about the basics of our home life. We went to Church on Sunday mornings and on Sunday evenings and we attended every church activity that there was. My sister did gymnastics and I did ballet and was a cheerleader all through junior high and high school. Just your average family of four. We didn’t have a white picket fence around our house, but you get the picture, we were your average, normal, happy family.
-Me and my big sister-
During my Junior High years my parents had a lot on their plates. I could see the stress that this caused them and decided that I didn’t want to be one of the burdens in their life so I became a wallflower. I chose to keep my problems to myself and just handle everything on my own so that I would never overwhelm my parents whom already had so much that they were dealing with. Those were hard years for me emotionally. I had boyfriend drama and regular friend drama, and life drama but I just kept it all in and dealt with it on my own. Talking out loud about my problems was never an option in my mind. I would just shove my feelings down and keep pressing forward. Now, this wasn’t because they wouldn’t have been there for me or they wouldn’t have provided for whatever I asked for, it was because I wanted to be a people pleaser and not a burdensome person. In my mind, I saw the toll burdensome people took on them and on others and I did not want to be a part of that club. I learned to take care of myself when I was sick, work through issues with friends (in a completely unhealthy, let people walk all over you kind of way) and not be a bother.
My last year of high school I began dating a guy about half way through the year. We became serious quite fast and I realize now that I was looking for someone to take care of me. I was tired of taking care of myself and just wanted to be able to lean on someone else for a change. We got engaged right out of high school when I was only 17 years old. He was my ticket out of my house and into a home where someone else would finally meet all of my needs. He broke off our engagement exactly one month before our wedding. I was crushed and humiliated and angry. Five months later, there I was, 18 years old, self-esteem at an all time low, angry at the world, and back to taking care of myself. It sucked. I was working 20-30 hours week plus going to college full time. I had pushed away all of my close friends from high school because I had been so humiliated by my engagement being broken off. I got new friends who didn’t really know that part of my life so we wouldn’t have to talk about it. I could just push my feelings deep down and keep moving forward. Then one Sunday afternoon when I was working at a local restaurant I saw a group of guys sitting at the end of the bar and decided to go chat with them. By the time they had left one of the guys and I had exchanged numbers. He called me at midnight that night and we talked for a few hours on the phone. The conversation mostly revolved around the fact that he was 24 and had no interest in dating an immature 18 year. I convinced him that I was not immature and he should take the risk. 9 months later I became Mrs. Christian Howard!
To be continued........
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