a journey of spirit

I grew up with 2 loving parents. We went to church every Sunday and we lived as any average family does. My parents were hard workers and my sisters and I wanted for nothing. We were (even living in a small town secluded in the middle of the Arizonan desert) exposed to culture and art and big ideas that we could really do whatever we wanted.

Somehow, once I hit my teen years I became a bit rebellious. I argued incessantly with my mother and we were always butting heads. I became very difficult to handle and extremely incorrigible.  This would be the pattern from 13 to 18.

Our religion was Catholic. It was understood that we were to go to church every Sunday and more times than not we sat in the very front row. This was to prevent us from goofing around or falling asleep during the Mass. As a child I attended CCD on Sundays, had my first communion, and then confirmation at 16. I remember distinctly not wanting to confirm as I wasn’t exactly sure what I was confirming. At 16, without really knowing God, I was very defiant in making such a big decision without knowing exactly what it meant. But I did it anyway. Nothing changed. We still went to church and I still went to youth group. But that was just a place to be.

It wasn’t until I was 22 years old (3 years after this behavior finally ended) did I realize that the entire time I was acting out, I was searching for God. I would stay out all night, sneak out, pretend to be at work when I wasn’t. I would partake in mild drug use and hang around people I shouldn’t have been hanging out with–people who were a few years older or people whose character were proven to not be good. But I was blind to this behavior. I wanted to be liked. I was trying to fill this hole, and I was just dumping whatever I could in to get it to close up. I put my poor family through 5 years of a deep darkness. My poor sisters probably didn’t get the childhood that they deserved and my parents would do whatever it would take to keep me from drowning. I’m so very sorry for it…

(note: just because I found this out at 22, however, didn’t mean that I’d fully “get” it…it took me 8 more years)

The behavior finally ended 6 months after my 18th birthday. My mother, determined to get me out of the pit, had found me a good job with good people…and random drug testing. But I was at a point where I could either go on with the same abusive relationships and behaviors, or get out and try to thrive. I remember being only 18 years old and afraid of living a good life. It’s amazing what one or two bad people can do to one’s self esteem. But, the alternative would have led me to dieing.

I eventually found my now husband (this part of my story will have to come another time), married and began to raise a family. My husband became the hole-filler. And as we all know, a star shaped object doesn’t fit into a cross shaped hole. The drama of that will have to wait for another time, too. But, let’s just say that it was a long drawn out process of me discovering that I was relying on him to make some things easier for me and to make me feel complete.

Again, at 30, I was given an opportunity to go down one road or another. I could either try finding God again or go on with the same, normal, unfulfilled life that I’d been scraping by with. I was afraid, because this time it was different. It wasn’t the catholic religion I’d been used to. It wasn’t the condemnation that I’d been used to; the judging or rules. Instead it was love and relationship. Funny enough, life seems harder now that God’s got me.

The hardest part about this is wrapping my head around unearned love and His grace. All my life, I’d struggled with trying to earn and gain and get and be. And here I am at 31, finding out that I didn’t really need to try at all. It’s been there all along.

Today. Today I am good and I am broken and I am filling that hole with something Holy. Today I am working on it every day to be and live and love the way I’m meant to. Today I am struggling to be relaxed and worry-free; to lay my burdens down. It finally dawned on me that what’s been the struggle–the trying to earn– doesn’t have to be. I don’t need to worry if I’m doing this right or doing this wrong. I just need to be in relationship with God and He’ll love me.

A few weeks ago, I attended Women of COF and sweet Laura always has such a wonderful message. This time she spoke about Jonah. I learned about myself that I still hold onto my biggest mistakes, I still regret them and I still harbor feelings about them. Jonah’s story was about his biggest failure…or so I thought. It turns out, the story of Jonah is about our God’s love and that He keeps coming back for us. Near the end of her message, Laura gave us this verse from Lamentations 3:21-22 “I have hope when I think of this: the Lord’s love never ends. His mercies never stop.” I swear I might have gasped a bit for air. I’ve heard this in song, but hearing Laura say it in her own wise way, it had a much deeper affect on me. I’m so thankful for His never-ending mercies.

(if you’d like to listen to Laura’s message, you can do so by clicking here.)