I Grew Up

I am a Christian. That is just what I am. I didn't look for that name to pin on myself, Lord knows I don't like labels. But in my adulthood I have noticed that I am different from what I once was. That difference has changed me inside and out.
When I was an adolescent I didn't really know what what my family values were because they seemed contradicted. I spent a lot of time at Grandma's house, I had been taken to church off and on by my aunt, and sent to vacation bible schools while my parents had "keggers" and booze parties. I had a nice, normal home life though. There are just a few outstanding memories of folks waking up on the living room floor as I blundered downstairs to turn on the "Smurfs". I didn't know who they were, sometimes, and I never saw them again. But as I grew a bit older, around junior high, my parents must have had an epiphany. Maybe they realized that I was getting mixed signals?
In the midst of junior high my parents became regular church attendants and even became Sunday school teachers. By high school I was sent to a small, private Christian school. As I was no winner in the popularity contests and felt as though I lacked crucial social skills, I was very content to find a tiny crevasse to fit myself into there. 'Cause, you know, Christians have to be nice to me, right? So, four years of awkwardness and ridicule (on a smaller scale, of course) go by and I graduate. Free at last.
I turned 18 that summer and all hell broke loose. I started dating a man 13 years my senior (that no one else liked) and moved out of my parents home. I started my adult life with absolutely no plan. Indulging in alcohol and cigarettes was my pastime. (Praise God, no drugs, else I might not be writing this today.)I didn't go to college because I dreaded sitting in a classroom for 4 more years. Blue collar work was for me. I was strong, lean and I'll even admit attractive. But I don't know how many times I sat in my little blue Ford Ranger with a cigarette and Quarter-Pounder in hand thinking,"I know there's something better than this." You see, I knew in my heart that from what I had learned in all those Sunday school classes and vacation Bible schools, I was wrong. I once invited Jesus into my heart but I never let Him get comfy there.
I switched boyfriends only a couple of times because i like to wait until the bitter end of a relationship before blowing it to pieces. I did end up at a desk job that was pretty despise able, although it could have been a big stepping stone in the major university town.
So I ended up pregnant. I married a man I had been living with for a couple of years or so about a month into the pregnancy. I was elated to be having a child, although the circumstances were not what I would even call "ok". So a few more years of tumult went by and one more son was born.
I got divorced. I don't want to go into the details of what happened and who did/said what. Let's just say I always seek the best in people. Even as I waded through pain, strife, blood, sweat, tears, abuse, poverty, and idiocy, I searched for that one spindly redeeming quality in him that would make it "worth it". Never happened.
Now my sons are becoming school aged. I teach my oldest son, who is 5 1/2, at home through cyber school (highly recommended). We go to church regularly, 3 times a week and pray together. We are very close. I think back to my own childhood and know that I do not want the same conflicting examples for my children. I know God will always love them where they are, but why not give them a head start to finding their own way to Him? I look at them and know that I must do right by them. I must give them something better than what I was given. Not more love, I don't think that's possible. But I must give them what is right. The head knowledge of The Savior, Jesus Christ. I can't make them believe it with their heart. But I hope they won't have to go through the stint (or even a lifetime) of doubt, worthlessness, or pain as I did.
I am grateful for my parents. They have supported me emotionally and even financially during my journey "back home." Sometimes I wonder if they ever feel pangs of guilt for seeing me dabble in their childish indulgences? Do they understand that I wanted to know what I was missing out on when they would send me to a relatives house when the keg arrived? I found out. It costs a lot to learn that lesson sometimes. A lot of times it is much more than any price I am still paying.
The bottom line is that I grew up. Some people never do. I've had friends/acquaintances commit suicide, murder, deal in munitions, drugs, and become addicts. But I grew up because my parents DID see what they were teaching me. They did make a change in their lives. And they did support me when I made stupid choices according to what I had learned from them. It's not their fault. It just is what it is. And now we are all grown up.