I know, I know it’s been a few weeks since you’ve heard from me. I think this second post was just as difficult, or maybe even more difficult to get out, than than the first! Anywho…I’ll stop stahling and begin…

Sometimes in order to move forward we have to look back. Truth be told, sometimes looking back can be deadly. Take for instance Lots wife in the Bible. Remeber how her little peek backwards caused her to make her big debut as a fine pillar of salt.? Yeah, I don’t think me looking back will cause me to turn into a salty pillar…although I have been known to be salty from time to time (haha!)…but glancing back will provide a fresh look at where I got my running start on this thing we call, life. It will also help set up some foundational premis for the rest of the blogs.

So, I entered this world precisely at 5:44am in the early morn. I’ve always secretly wished it would have been one hour earlier so my time of birth could represent my favorite number 444, but tampering with legal documents sounds like a bad idea, sooooo 5:44am it is. Our family was a family of three (mom, dad and big sis) until I came along, four years after my big sis was born. I honestly don’t remember much of my first 3-4 years of life. The things I remember in those early years are from stories people have told me and pictures that prove I really did exist. One of my most memorable stories, I’ve been told, is when we were making a big move, one state up from where we were, to get a fresh start on life. I was two and a half riding in the front seat of a yellow Ryder moving truck. I was given a piece of round Brachs butterscotch hard candy. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, “why would you give a two and a half year a hard candy?” Believe me I have often questioned that myself. My best guess is that they were trying to keep an active toddler quiet. If you have experience with toddlers you know you will do things you never thought you’d do to keep sane! Well somehow and in someway that lil hard butterscotch candy found its way to the back of my throat and had the audacity to start choking me! Yep, that’s right I am about to breathe my last breath in the front seat of a moving truck when my mom frantically yells to my sister, “hit her on the back!” As any good sibling, looking for an opportunity to hit their other sibling, my sister obliged. With her small six year old hand , she gave my back a good hit and that hard butterscotch candy came flying out of my mouth! I’m pretty thankful that my sister saved my life that day, because I kinda like doing this breathing and living thing.

I mentioned my mom and just us two girls in the truck that day and that is because, unfortunately we were needing to make some space between us and my dad. My mom was, and is, a hard working woman. If I have learned one thing from her that would be, if there’s a will there’s a way. For me, learning that persevering attitude has been pivotal in my life and I know will continue to be. My mom was doing what she knew was best for her and us girls by moving.

That would be the first move of a few moves for the next several years. You see, my dad was an alcoholic. His alcoholism definitely contributed to us needing to move more than we had hoped. There were few times I actually saw my dad sober. He just didn’t know how to process and deal with life and that was his chosen method to escape. I fully honor him as my dad, but for the sake of “looking back” with honesty I think a few details will provide greater understanding and a better foundation in getting to know my early life a bit more.

We moved into a two bedroom  apartment when we first got to our new state and my dad showed up some time later. Him showing up wasn’t the best of times. There was just one too many moments having to watch him abuse my mom. He was usually trying to get the car keys so he could go drink and go fishing. That is when my older sister and I knew the routine to grab mom’s purse, with the keys inside, and go hide in the bedroom closet until “it” was over. Mom taught us to sing a song when he was in these drunken states that “ironically” ended up calming him. I say “ironic” because I know this song helped to bring an atmosphere of peace from Jesus. I think she also knew singing this song would help calm our little scared and fearful hearts down as well. Every time I still hear, or sing, this song memories of those days flood my mind. The memory no longer has a sting to it, but I still remeber singing this beautiful song:

*Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, there’s just something  about that name. Master, Savior, Jesus, like the fragrance after the rain. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, let all heaven and earth proclaim. Kings and kingdoms will all pass away but there’s something about that name.*

That being said, I do remember this one time I refused to go into that closet! I was a five year old lil girl and I was so over this happening to my mom!  I remember thinking, “I am gonna fight for my momma!” and no sooner did that thought come I began to try and beat up a grown man! Yes, that’s right I pulled his hair and kicked him the best I could! I don’t really think I gained any victory that day, but in my lil mind I felt like I helped “save” my mom and I didn’t feel helpless anymore.    In my five year old mind, I was BIG STUFF! Haha!

Being five was a rough year for me. It was the year that I began being molested by a girl in the apartments where we lived. It happened more often than not. I am not sure how long it lasted but it was awhile. It was a hidden thing in my life for YEARS due to the extreme shame and unloveliness one feels having gone through that so you never want to share your dirty secret. I want you to know I have fully forgiven that girl and have found full healing from that awful experience. I want to stop and say this….if this part of my story resonates with you and you  have found yourself in this same situation, please know that you aren’t dirty or unloveable. You are FULLY loved by Jesus. You aren’t defective because of what was done. You can receive healing and move past the pain. It may take time, but it can happen. You are of value and worth!! …… There are a few other things during that year but I think I will save that for another time.

My most favorite memory of living in that first apartment,  besides learning how to ride a two wheeler on a huge adult bike and having THE BEST BIG WHEEL ever known to man, is when my little sister was born! Lil sis is about six and a half years younger than me and when she came home I was smitten!! I loved her (still to do) sooo much! My older sister always thought I was kissing on her too much, but she was soooo cute, I couldn’t help it! Pretty sure that started my DEEP love for babies and my strong desire to wanna eat’m up!!! Yes, every time I see cute babies (which is pretty much ALL babies) I wanna eat’m up!! I have recently learned that there is a name for this glorious phenomenon, “cute aggression!” Yes, I am happy to announce I have cute aggression and I don’t see me recovering from this any time soon!

Wow, I never thought I would have the courage to share this part of my journey, but it is time and it was right time. I am actually sitting here smiling because I know that God truly makes beauty out of ashes. Tears are now welling up in my eyes as my heart is overwhelmed with thanks that God has always been with me, yes, even as a five your old lil girl. He has never left me and will continue to walk with me through all my future days.

Today, may you find the courage to persevere. May you dare to look back so you can move forward.

Til next time! Xoxo