My Beginnings

How do I explain to you the multitude of moments that I have lived through?  How can I possibly explain in words where I’ve come from, how my thoughts are formed, and who I am?

I am allergic to coffee, so every morning I wake up to a cup of iced tea.  So, grab a cup of tea, possibly some tissues, and join me as I attempt to write some of my deepest thoughts.

I was born and raised in Texas in a Christian home that, like all other families I know, was imperfect.  Trying to find a place to fit in, we hopped from church to church and denomination to denomination.  As a child, I never really experienced a local body of believers who were as close as family.  But, God knew how those moves and inconsistencies would shape the woman I was to become.

I remember the day that my mom asked me if I wanted to invite Jesus into my heart.  I don’t know the exact date, or even how old I was.  I know I was around 4 or 5 years old & I remember kneeling beside her unmade king-sized bed and having her lead me through a prayer to my new found Lord & Savior.  I was a good child overall & nothing much changed in the way I acted at that time.  But, as time would tell, that decision to accept Christ was like root stimulator to the little mustard seed of faith in my soul.  He, my Jesus, my Lord, never left me or forsook me as I went through the many changes and difficulties of growing up.

As I entered into my preteen years, I remember feeling (probably unfounded feelings because of normal hormonal changes in my body) that nobody loved me.  Every corrective criticism I received was just one more stab to my heart to say how unworthy, unrighteous, and undesirable I was as a person.  With these words of attack welling up inside of me, I poured it all at the feet of the one whom I had learned to love and trust.  Yes, my parents were there, but I’m talking about my heavenly father, my Abba Father.  I prayed and asked him to PLEASE be my Daddy; love me, hold me, consume me, and comfort me in the secret places of my heart where nobody else could.

Allow me to clarify something quickly…  I love my parents & do NOT blame them in any way for how I felt.  By watching other preteens grow up, I realize that those feelings of searching for approval and identity are just a part of life.  However, God used those normal hormonal changes to add a bit of fertilizer to the the seed of faith previously planted in my heart.