There are times when I am so overwhelmed by what God has blessed me with that I cry. The tears come from the joy that floods my heart. Are there difficult days? (Does anyone really expect that I will answer this question with "no?") My son is 6 months old, and still doesn't sleep through the night. Before I got pregnant with him, I was deployed and had to sleep mostly during the day, in Afghanistan, with a mostly broken air conditioner. Needless to say, sleep was elusive. Anyone who has ever been pregnant knows that sleeping through the night is a challenge. So I have not had a regular night's sleep for one year and seven months. I have a going-on-three year old daughter whom I think is going to be in the category of terrible threes instead of twos. And our monthly just got hacked to less than half what we used to get. So yes, there are difficult days. Even on those difficult days though, I am reminded of God's unending and abounding love for me.
During my teenage years, my rebellion against my parents only served to push me towards Christ. Having not grown up in a Christian home, I was quite content to show my difference by having a faith in God that my family did not share. When I first accepted Jesus' free gift, I couldn't wait to tell my family about this great news. As a thirteen year old girl, I knew that every single one of my family members was searching for something. Perhaps they didn't know that they were searching, but I am certain that they knew they weren't satisfied with life. I excitedly told them about this faith that I possessed and explained that it was for whoever wanted it. I remember thinking, "This is going to change the way we've all been living." The first time I told my parents about Christ, they blew me off saying that I was just going through a phase. After all, what thirteen year old girl doesn't have a "phase." As time wore on, my parents started to feel more and more accosted by my continual "ramblings" about Jesus. It wasn't long before they forbade me to speak of Christ at all. I was heartbroken for them, but I knew the situation was not going to get any better and I longed to leave the household. The conditions at my home were difficult, not least because of my family's unbelief. We were poor, and had been since I could remember. We lived in a very old three bedroom house, the members of my household numbering between five and eight at any given time. I was a teenage girl, living with all teenage boys, not all of whom were related to me. And I was the only one not doing some form of drugs. As I said, I longed to be free of this lifestyle. I felt as if I was the ugly duckling in this twisted, real-life story. For all my efforts, I still didn't belong.
The last year of my junior high school career came and went, and still, there was no change at home. By summertime, my life with Christ was completely separate from my life at home. I grew close to people at my church (which was thankfully just one block away from my house) who took me under their wings. They taught me about Jesus and I soaked up the information wholeheartedly and with extreme gladness. To know that this person who created the whole of the universe, had a special place in His heart for me was beyond any kind of love I had ever known, and it still is. It would be futile to try to explain the joy I felt to finally have the love that I so craved. I truly believe that though God does sometimes ask us to do things and stay in situations that are difficult for us, He also knows our hearts better than we do, and He cares about the things we care about. At this point in my life, I wanted nothing more than to be with a family who shared my faith.
The time came, not too far into my freshman year of high school that my family was told to find a new place to live. Though I am sure my parents worked hard to find a place in time, there was a ten day gap between when we were supposed to move out of our current house, to when our new residence would be ready for us. My brothers and I were told to stay with friends while my parents stayed in a hotel for that week and a half.
I was supposed to stay in the living room of a family that I had grown close to. It was a small house, and it would be awkward living, but it would do for ten days. When one of the other girls in youth group heard that I needed a place to stay, she cried to her parents about it. And it worked! This new family had an extra room and were known for their hospitality. Melissa and I didn't know each other well, but we spent over an hour of the phone talking about anything and everything the night she invited me to stay with her family. I don't think even she knew that she was really inviting me to be a part of her family forever. Thank God that He knew, though!
The day that Melissa and her mom, Debbie, picked me up from my former house, would change my life forever. There are times (like right now) that I cry over God's grace and abundant love for me.
(more to follow)
