Life Story

"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength." - Phillippians 4:12-13

It is easy to feel like what we have isn't enough. We are constantly bombarded with advertisements for whiter teeth, smoother thighs, fuller lips. We watch "reality" tv shows and the lives of the "Real Housewives" are full of luxury and opportunity. Our children misbehave, while other children seem angelic in comparison, and we wonder why it is so easy for everyone else.

The answer is, it's not. Everyone has struggles and skeletons, scars that we see and those that we don't.

I come from a very different environment than the one in which we are raising our children. My mom worked as a library aide and started taking college courses at night when I was five. My daddy was a welder and a laborer, mainly building waterfront retaining walls and boat docks or installing awnings for the wealthier residents of Lake Dunlap. He struggled with alcoholism and mental illness for most of his life. Sometimes there was work and sometimes there wasn't, and we were occasionally recipients of welfare. We had happy times, but I knew something wasn't right.

My parents divorced when I was in the fourth grade. My mom remarried and was finishing her teaching degree, and by most accounts, we were a happy, lower middle class blended family. My step dad was a band director at the high school, my mom eventually taught middle school science, and there were five kids from 11 to 15, all living in a two bedroom, one bathroom rental house in an older neighborhood.

I thought we had won the lottery. My step dad was stable, he was happy, he never drank anything stronger than iced tea. He loved me and my sister as if we were his. I grabbed his hand on the day I met him and never let go.

I didn't see my daddy much. He didn't always have the right to visitation because he was in and out of treatment and sometimes jail for a year. I loved my daddy very much and it was a very hard time in my life.

And then my daddy passed away. He took his own life in the summer between fifth and sixth grade. I was spending the night at a friend's house and my mom came to pick me up very early. We got to our house and my sister was sitting in the kitchen staring into the backyard. She had left two days before for a weeklong trip to the coast with her best friend's family. It was so confusing to see her there. My mom and step dad took me into their bedroom in the back of the house and told me that my daddy was gone.

I remember feeling nothing, empty. I went into the room that I shared with my sister and two stepsisters and laid down on my bunk bed. I did that a lot for the next few days. My daddy's funeral is a blurry memory. It was horrible.

Psalm 11:17-18 says, "You hear, O Lord, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and the oppressed, in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more."

I think about this story of mine, and how it could so easily be the beginning of a life of sadness and self doubt. But instead it is a story of how God provided me with so much. He gave me a daddy who loved me as a little girl, and took me fishing and camping, and let me sit with him while he was dove hunting, no matter how loud I was.

And then He gave me a dad who loved me when he didn't have to, and walked me down the aisle at my wedding, and was there when I had my babies, and holds my hand and doesn't let go.

And He gave me my faith in my Heavenly Father, the One who guides me and gives me strength when I have none.

So I think of all that I have in my life, and I am blessed.

Dear God, thank you for all of the blessings and opportunities that you have given us in this life. Help us to feel contentment in our lives, and give us strength to walk through devestation. In Your Holy Name we pray, amen.