Resolutions

I don't really do resolutions because the word itself rather denotes that you need to vest yourself in it, and frankly, I have commitment issues. (I started this post New Year's Day ~ commitment issues.) I'm not good at keeping them, and that makes me feel bad. I prefer calling them goals.

So, my goals for 2014... Let's see... I want to eat healthier and exercise more. Nothing drastic. I only recall working out once in 2013. I can do better than that. Right? I want to read my Bible more, pray more personally, and improve my relationship with God. An important goal. Should be easy enough. I also want to be kinder, more compassionate, and more empathetic. Reading my Bible and having a closer relationship with God will help with this one, but honestly, this one scares me a little. I already feel so sad over the state of, well, everything these days that I'm not entirely sure I can handle more empathy. But I have God on my side, and with Him, I can do all things.

My Testimony

Much of this story I have only told my husband. It is not a bad story; it's just a little difficult to tell.

Meet my grandmother. At the age of twelve, I moved in with her(a long story that I'm not sharing at this time). I did not go to church very often... until I moved in with Mamaw. She took me to church EVERY Sunday. Every Sunday until I was about fifteen or sixteen, and I basically just wouldn't go. She tried very hard to lead me (and sometimes drag me) to Jesus. There were times when I could really feel the Holy Spirit pulling at my heart and knew she was really praying hard for me. I was not very receptive to any of this. I enjoyed going to church, but I just didn't know what I believed. I also felt I would be a hypocrite because I was a sinner.

I did many things in my late teens and early twenties of which I am not proud. I conceived my first child out of wedlock. I divorced twice. I had an affair with a married man. That is just the short list of my sins. Like I said, NOT proud... but confession is good for the soul.

I started getting my act together in my late twenties. I was in the teacher education program at MSU-M, and I felt I needed to conduct myself in a way that I would be a positive role model for my students and for my own children. I realized I was setting a poor example for my kids.

My grandmother never really gave up on me. She didn't push me as hard, but I knew she prayed for me constantly. Where she left of with me, she picked up with my kids. My son gave his heart to Christ when he was nine or ten. My kids tried to get me to go to church with them all of the time.

I guess I need to back up a little and let you know that after both of my divorces, I moved back in with my grandmother. So my kids went to church with her more regularly than I did at that early age.

Anyway, my kids asked me to go to church, and my grandmother prayed for me. I really wasn't feeling it though. By the time I turned thirty, I had straightened out my act. I wasn't holding out because I was basking in sin and didn't want to change. I had already changed a lot. I just wasn't comfortable. I guess I was at the stage where I felt like I wasn't worthy. I also didn't have a home church. My grandmother's church didn't have a pastor, and while I visited other churches, I just didn't feel at home.

I graduated from MSU-M in May of 2010, and that same month I started dating Lester. He wasn't a bad guy, but he didn't go to church either. That didn't make it any easier. I loved him quickly, but he wasn't always easy to love. I found myself praying more and more often. After two failed marriages, I just didn't want to get hurt again. I really felt that the problem with my first two marriages was that I did what I wanted and not what God wanted me to do. Ever been there? I prayed for God to give me a sign. I even told Him it had to be obvious because I'm hard-headed.

About a year and a half into the relationship, I was about ready to give up. I had gotten a teaching job, and I was about ready to focus on my kids and my career. I was still praying, but without that sign, I was beginning to think the Lord wanted me to move on and leave Lester behind.

My grandmother had started declining in health, and the kids didn't get to go to church as much. They started asking me more often to not just go with them to church, but to take them to church because they missed it. One day, my son asked me about church. I told him I knew we needed to go, but I just wasn't ready. That same day, Lester and his brother were talking, and I heard Lester say, "You know what the problem is? We don't go to church."

I let him finish his conversation, and I told him that the kids really wanted to go to church, and maybe we should take them together. HE AGREED! It took a few weeks, and we didn't go very often, but we went. And I took it as my sign that I was where God wanted me to be.

My grandmother's health continued to decline, and she was soon in hospice care due to melanoma. There wasn't really anything the doctors could do, and at her age, she wasn't really receptive to treatment if it was available.

The house wasn't the same without her in it, and I began praying harder and more often. I was uncertain of a life without her in it. I visited her in the nursing home as often as I could. She had a good disposition and was at peace. She complained that she didn't get enough attention there. She was lonely. She said she was ready to go home. Deep down I knew she wasn't talking about the house I'm sitting in now; she was talking about going home to be with God. She was ready for what her future held, and she was at peace because she knew she had a future - one beyond this mortal life. Jesus' death on the cross and her belief in Him guaranteed her this. I wanted that kind of peace!

Then I got the call from my mother telling me that my grandmother was no longer responsive, had to be put on oxygen, and had a twenty-four hour nurse. I went to the nursing home knowing in my heart that it would be the last time I saw her alive. I have to believe that she heard me when I told her I loved her that one last time.

All the way to Lester's house that evening, I cried. It hurts to remember, but it's difficult to forget. And I don't want to forget. I prayed, and I prayed hard. My grandmother took care of me most of my life. I prayed that she not suffer any longer despite the fact that I didn't want to lose her. She was ready to go home, and if anyone was deserving, she was. In the midst of that prayer, I prayed that Jesus come in to my life, my heart, my soul. December 9, 2011, I finally gave up the fight and gave in to the Holy Spirit. At 1:00 a.m. on December 10, 2011, that same Spirit carried my grandmother home.

I have many regrets in life. I regret my many sins, and I regret that I am still a sinful creature despite my best efforts. I regret that it took me so long to give my life to the One who gave me life. I regret that I wasn't more understanding of her in her old age, or that I didn't do more to help her when she started getting so sick. But I do NOT regret giving my life to Christ like she prayed so hard that I would one day do.

After I gave my life to the Lord, things started falling into place. Lester and I got married, and he got custody of his son. We found a home church. I was finally baptized. Life is not perfect, but I am happier than I have ever been. There are surely bumps in the road that lies ahead, but I know that I can conquer all things through Christ (Phil. 4:13)!

 

A Kid's Life Part I

So where was I? Oh, yeah! I was in first grade reading and hating math. Now I promise you I won't bore you with every detail of my childhood, but I want to tell you some of what I remember. I had a great teacher in first grade. I know I gave her fits! I couldn't keep my mouth shut. She would put me on the hall two to three times a week. Sometimes she would put me beside the other first grade teacher's door. I'd stick my head in her door to let her know I was there. She was far from a mean teacher. She was great. I was the pain. She had faith in me and has given me encouragement from time to time throughout the years. I will never forget her.

Of course, being so many years ago, elementary school is mostly a blur. I had good teachers and great teachers. I had some old teachers, too. One in particular taught everyone on my dad's side of the family who were in school within the last 39 years, so she knew well who I was. She taught me in her 39th year of teaching and retired after her 40th. She had learned a few things about teaching over the years. I wonder what her views about the educational system would be today.

I also had one teacher who scared me to death - still does actually. Her daughter teaches now, and I've heard students say she scares them, too - at first. After they get to know her, she's pretty cool. Maybe I should get to know her mom a little better.

And then there are a couple of teachers I have actually had the pleasure of teaching beside. One retired, and I certainly miss hearing her down the hallway. She never missed an opportunity to teach. She had students in her room working with them from the time they were allowed in the building until she took them to the busses. This included her planning time.

All in all, elementary school was a success. I do have more stories to tell as time goes on, and there is always more than one side to a story.

Christmas 2013

It is such a belssing to be able to spend time with the ones you love most at any time of the year, but especially at Christmas time. This has been a wonderful Christmas, and I still have a few days with my husband before he goes back to work.

It was a small Christmas celebration this year. Saturday morning, I cooked brunch for a few close family members. It was a good time with good food. We went to church Sunday morning. It was a great sermon, as are they all. That afternoon, we went to my husband's family for the best "Dirty Santa" in which I have ever participated. Great times! We didn't do much Monday and Tuesday, but today I cooked turkey, ham, dressing, and a few other things. My mom came and ate with us. I think the kids were satisfied with thier presents, but I do hope they know the true meaning of Christmas. Truly blessed.

My mind was racing last night as I thought of things I wanted to share here. I will continue with my story next time. Please forgive me if I jump around some as I tell my story. Some things just need to be told first, and other things just seem more important. And you know, sometimes you just need to get something off of your chest.

I hope you all had a very merry Christmas and remember that Jesus is the reason for the season!

Life with a Purpose

I, like many, wonder why God put me on this earth. What is my purpose? Why am I here? So, I guess I am starting this blog to explore my past and my present in order to better direct my life towards God's will and find and fulfill my purpose in the future. Through smiles and tears, God has blessed me, and hopefully sharing my experiences will help others - even if it just brightens their day.

But where do I start? I guess, I'll start at the beginning. I was born in January of 1979. I don't really remember anything about it. I just know it happened. It's funny how that works out. Something so significant in life, and you can't even remember it. I remember bits and pieces of my life prior to starting school. Some of that will have to wait for future posts, but I can tell you a little right now. My mom stayed at home with me, and I suppose out of a lack of anything better to do, she tought me to read and write. I remember Cookie Monster teaching me how to tie my shoes. I remember sharing a room with my brother (who slept in a crib) until he was like five years old. It is odd that your life just becomes flashes when you get older. Things you thought you would never forget just fade away. I guess that speaks to its utter lack of significance. We think things are so important, but in the end, it just doesn't matter as much as we thought it did.

I started kindergarten in 1984 (I think) where I excelled in reading and writing but not so much in math. I remember everyone in my class got little white readers with red print on the cover. Everyone, that is, but me. I got a fat math workbook. It had a picture on it that looked like it was taken at a zoo. Anyone else get one of these? I hated it! I hated the joy on my classmates' faces as they read and discussed those little readers while I worked (and reworked) math problems. UGH! I went on to first grade and could still read better than many of my classmates, and I still hated math.

Well, I guess that's enough for now. I've got other things to do. I'm open to suggestions on my blog and welcome comments. Good night and God bless! And Merry Christmas!