I grew up on a farm in northern Montana, just north of a town with 100 people. I lived in a round house, one that looked an igloo, and every time the wind blew (which felt like all the time) the fireplace in the basement would rattle and scare the jeebers out me. As a child I was terrified of wind, and living on the prairie, 40 mph winds were more of just a breeze.
One thing I feel is very common in small communities is their faith. Just about everyone went to church, with the majority being either Lutheran or Catholics, and a handful in another kind of Christian church. As a child, it was odd if your parents didn't drag you to church Sunday morning. My sisters and I grew up in the Catholic church. We took part in receiving the sacraments of faith - we were baptized in the church, went through our First Reconciliation, our First Communion in our pretty white dresses, and we took Confirmation classes in the church. I grew up knowing about God.
Looking back, I remember going to Continuing Catholic Developement class (CCD) after school on Tuesdays while in elementary school. We learned songs and memorized prayers and heard stories about the Lord. At youth group in high school, we were studying to be confirmed. I remember going to Vacation Bible School and learning about the Beatitudes given by St. Matthew. But I now find it interesting I was never taught to read the Bible, or maybe I was and I didn't realize it? Once I went along with my best friend to a Lutheran Bible school, and I found it odd they were studying Bible verses. The one they were studying was "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud..." I can't tell you where it is found at in the Bible, but that verse has always stuck with me. In the same regards, my boys come home from pre-school spouting off Bible verses and I'm over here like, "Way to go boys!" but really I'm thinking, "Why don't I know that one?"
At dinner our family would bow our heads and make the sign of the cross and say our dinner pray, but I feel like that is kind of the extent of our religious practices at home. (Okay I also remember praying the Rosary during a storm with my little sister under the stairs once.) As I grew older I feel like the more distant I grew from the church and the Lord.
When it came to my sisters and me, I have always felt like the odd one out. I hated going out and working with my dad in the field because I loved sleep. For whatever reason he never made me help. I willingly helped with branding, though I was always nervous sorting cows, but I never had to fix fence or help with harvest. I've never driven the tractors or the combines or the grain trucks like all of my sisters have. I made lunch for harvest, that was the extent of me helping. (Don't ask me to bring it out to you either, I'd get lost!) In small communities like mine, aside from agriculture, sports is huge and I never really played any. I did volleyball, but was never any good. I hated playing basketball, but I didn't want to be left out so I was *always* the manager keeping stats. (I can't even watch it without tracking rebounds and such...) I did track in junior high but as I got older, I developed a pain in my left foot to the point that I could hardly walk so my love of running was completely out of the question before too long. With my lack of willingness to help on the farm and my lack of interest in sports, I feel like the relationship with my dad really plummeted. I wanted him to be proud of me for something, like he was for my sisters. I think the relationship with my dad really made me hunger for approval from others, like the opposite sex.
Throughout high school, I almost always had a boyfriend. I spent a lot of time with my first serious boyfriend and his family. I loved being around his family because of the love they showed me and each other. They said "I love you" to each other on a daily basis, which was completely new to me. I recall crying to my sister about how I couldn't remember the last time our parents told me they loved me. It killed me. Eventually I broke down to them about it and it was weird to finally hear those words said to me. I knew they loved me, but it's different when you actually hear it. (Clearly as a child I felt loved by 'words of affirmation'.)
For the next few years I broke up with boyfriends and got back together with them over and over. Having a boyfriend all the time made me less reliant on making friends. By the time I got to college, I had no idea how to make friends, truthfully, I still don't. As a college freshman, I was eager to get out and meet people and make friends but I had no clue how to because I was so shy. I won't get into the details in this post, but halfway through my first semester in college, I reluctantly went out with my roommate and I had someone try to rape me. I didn't spend much time at home that Christmas break because I didn't want to be around people. I kind of shut myself off from everyone. When I returned back to school after winter break, I found a job at a hotel where I worked on the weekends so I had an excuse not to go out and be social anymore.
That summer I decided I wanted to start doing things for myself and be less reliant on others to make me happy so I broke up with my co-worker/boyfriend and up and moved to Michigan where I started an internship. I hated the job so much that I moved back two weeks later. (I loved Michigan and wish I would have stayed and pursued something else while I was out there...) When I returned to Missoula in the fall to start my second year in college, I went back to work at the hotel and lived in a small townhouse with two other girls I barely knew. Still not having any close friends, I started smoking weed with some people I knew, just so I could fit it. (Seriously, I feel like I'll do anything just to have a friend!) And then I started drinking again to fit in.
It was that winter when I met Perry through a co-worker. Our relationship started out fast - we were inseparable for the first couple months. He took me on adventures, made me try new foods and basically pulled me out of the shell I was in. He was always the life of the party and everyone loved being around him. (It still surprises me that he picked the "wall flower" to pursue!) I knew him for all of 3 1/2 months when I found out I was 5 weeks pregnant. For the longest time, maybe since my first boyfriend, all I had wanted to do was settle down and get married and have a family of my own so I could feel loved and wanted. In that moment when I took the pregnancy test and it came back positive, I wanted nothing to do with settling down and having a family. I was terrified. I was terrified to tell Perry because I had no idea how he would react, I hardly knew him after all.
Over the next few weeks we discussed what we were going to do. Neither of us were ready for a baby. We went to Planned Parenthood and discussed having an abortion. I thought about giving the baby up for adoption. We were both so lost, but having my faith, I knew no matter what, I could not kill the being that was inside of me, even if it's what my boyfriend wanted. With that, I also realized that while having a baby wasn't something I wanted to do, I also couldn't imagine someone else raising my baby. Seven full months of fighting later, Hunter was born and has been keeping us on our toes ever since. I cannot image life without him. Many people cry when they first hold their new baby. I did cry, but not at that moment, maybe because I was scared of having to take care of him and everything else running through my mind? I did start crying when my dad came in to see me and Hunter. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead and said, "You've done good." My dad doesn't know how to express his feelings, but that was all I needed, his approval.
Perry and I have always had a hard relationship. I feel like the first two years together, all we did was fight. Yet somehow in those two years, we managed to get engaged and set a wedding date, call off the wedding date, have another baby, and buy a house. There were an uncountable number of times when we just wanted to be done. (I threw my engagement ring at him in front of his friends and it didn't even phase him! That's when I should have left...) When we were at our final breaking point, Perry parents bought us tickets to attend a weekend retreat hosted by Christian speaker, Timothy Keller and his wife, called 'A Weekend to Remember'. It was all about rebuilding marriages and how to work through problems. The weekend together plus the book, 'Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman, that my co-worker lent to me (and haven't given back!), really helped Perry and I overcome our differences.
A couple short months later, we finally agreed we were in the right place in our relationship to get married. We set a date for the end of September and after a long eight months of planning, we were married in a Lutheran church. As a prerequisite to be married in the church, we had to attend marriage counseling. Although I would have liked to get married in the Catholic church I grew up in, there was no way Perry was going to covert to being a Catholic to do so. Instead, I had my best friend's dad, who is a Lutheran Pastor, marry us. Having been baptized myself as a baby, I had been wanting my boys baptized as well. I thought doing it at the wedding, because both families would be there, would be the best time to do it. We went round and round with that one because his family just wanted to dedicate them and instead had a family unity blessing. (It still bothers me my children aren't baptized.)
Perry and I have now been together for seven years, and haven't been happier together. It's taken a long time to get to this point, but we've made it. While we're happy together, we're both missing things in our lives. Having become parents at the ages of 20 and 23, we missed out on finding out who we each were as people. As young parents, we've also had a hard time finding the right people, or any people at all for that matter, to hang out and be social with. When people my age were going to college and doing what ever they wanted when they wanted, I was at home with the kids. I say my age because it took me throwing my ring at Perry for him to own up to having kids and responsibilities.
When we had Charlotte, I quit my job knowing that sending three kids to daycare was going to cost more than we could afford. Though I was surrounded by my children all day, I felt, and sometimes still do feel so alone. I have spent many nights crying to my husband about how I'm used to people cancelling on me last minute for play dates or just not showing up at all. For the past few years, all I've known is rejection, and I can't say it any other way than it sucks. Over and over I would get excited because I was asked to do something with someone and then over and over I was let down. It got to the point where Perry had to start telling me to stop getting my hopes up. He's the same way though - he loves playing poker and many times he'll have people tell him they're coming over to play only to have no one show up. He knows how it feels to be rejected, but he's learned from it and has stopped asking people. With his dad passing away a year and a half ago, he's really shut himself off from everyone and it kills me to see him this way.
I'm trying to find out what my calling is in life - what it is that God wants me to do. In a car wreck I should have died in, He saved me and left a cross on my wrist to show for it. When looking at the suburban after the wreck, the door I was next to was the only door without a scratch or dent on it - we rolled three times. A couple years ago I went to a church retreat with my mother-in-law and didn't know anyone but her; yet there were these ladies there praying over me who could tell the Lord had good things planned for me and that I had such a tender spirit. On the last evening of the retreat, a healer came to talk to us. At the end he had invited anyone who had cancer or knew someone who had cancer to come forward and pray with him. At the time, one of my aunts had stage 3 or 4 breast cancer, so I went up to pray for her. He placed his hand on my head as we prayed and then I blacked out and collapsed. A few weeks later I found out she was cancer free.
I feel like for the last ten years He's been calling out for me, and I just haven't been listening but I'm at a point in my life where I want know Him and not just know about Him. I'm excited to see what he has planned for me and my family.
Throughout high school, I almost always had a boyfriend. I spent a lot of time with my first serious boyfriend and his family. I loved being around his family because of the love they showed me and each other. They said "I love you" to each other on a daily basis, which was completely new to me. I recall crying to my sister about how I couldn't remember the last time our parents told me they loved me. It killed me. Eventually I broke down to them about it and it was weird to finally hear those words said to me. I knew they loved me, but it's different when you actually hear it. (Clearly as a child I felt loved by 'words of affirmation'.)
For the next few years I broke up with boyfriends and got back together with them over and over. Having a boyfriend all the time made me less reliant on making friends. By the time I got to college, I had no idea how to make friends, truthfully, I still don't. As a college freshman, I was eager to get out and meet people and make friends but I had no clue how to because I was so shy. I won't get into the details in this post, but halfway through my first semester in college, I reluctantly went out with my roommate and I had someone try to rape me. I didn't spend much time at home that Christmas break because I didn't want to be around people. I kind of shut myself off from everyone. When I returned back to school after winter break, I found a job at a hotel where I worked on the weekends so I had an excuse not to go out and be social anymore.
That summer I decided I wanted to start doing things for myself and be less reliant on others to make me happy so I broke up with my co-worker/boyfriend and up and moved to Michigan where I started an internship. I hated the job so much that I moved back two weeks later. (I loved Michigan and wish I would have stayed and pursued something else while I was out there...) When I returned to Missoula in the fall to start my second year in college, I went back to work at the hotel and lived in a small townhouse with two other girls I barely knew. Still not having any close friends, I started smoking weed with some people I knew, just so I could fit it. (Seriously, I feel like I'll do anything just to have a friend!) And then I started drinking again to fit in.
It was that winter when I met Perry through a co-worker. Our relationship started out fast - we were inseparable for the first couple months. He took me on adventures, made me try new foods and basically pulled me out of the shell I was in. He was always the life of the party and everyone loved being around him. (It still surprises me that he picked the "wall flower" to pursue!) I knew him for all of 3 1/2 months when I found out I was 5 weeks pregnant. For the longest time, maybe since my first boyfriend, all I had wanted to do was settle down and get married and have a family of my own so I could feel loved and wanted. In that moment when I took the pregnancy test and it came back positive, I wanted nothing to do with settling down and having a family. I was terrified. I was terrified to tell Perry because I had no idea how he would react, I hardly knew him after all.
Over the next few weeks we discussed what we were going to do. Neither of us were ready for a baby. We went to Planned Parenthood and discussed having an abortion. I thought about giving the baby up for adoption. We were both so lost, but having my faith, I knew no matter what, I could not kill the being that was inside of me, even if it's what my boyfriend wanted. With that, I also realized that while having a baby wasn't something I wanted to do, I also couldn't imagine someone else raising my baby. Seven full months of fighting later, Hunter was born and has been keeping us on our toes ever since. I cannot image life without him. Many people cry when they first hold their new baby. I did cry, but not at that moment, maybe because I was scared of having to take care of him and everything else running through my mind? I did start crying when my dad came in to see me and Hunter. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead and said, "You've done good." My dad doesn't know how to express his feelings, but that was all I needed, his approval.
Perry and I have always had a hard relationship. I feel like the first two years together, all we did was fight. Yet somehow in those two years, we managed to get engaged and set a wedding date, call off the wedding date, have another baby, and buy a house. There were an uncountable number of times when we just wanted to be done. (I threw my engagement ring at him in front of his friends and it didn't even phase him! That's when I should have left...) When we were at our final breaking point, Perry parents bought us tickets to attend a weekend retreat hosted by Christian speaker, Timothy Keller and his wife, called 'A Weekend to Remember'. It was all about rebuilding marriages and how to work through problems. The weekend together plus the book, 'Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman, that my co-worker lent to me (and haven't given back!), really helped Perry and I overcome our differences.
A couple short months later, we finally agreed we were in the right place in our relationship to get married. We set a date for the end of September and after a long eight months of planning, we were married in a Lutheran church. As a prerequisite to be married in the church, we had to attend marriage counseling. Although I would have liked to get married in the Catholic church I grew up in, there was no way Perry was going to covert to being a Catholic to do so. Instead, I had my best friend's dad, who is a Lutheran Pastor, marry us. Having been baptized myself as a baby, I had been wanting my boys baptized as well. I thought doing it at the wedding, because both families would be there, would be the best time to do it. We went round and round with that one because his family just wanted to dedicate them and instead had a family unity blessing. (It still bothers me my children aren't baptized.)
Perry and I have now been together for seven years, and haven't been happier together. It's taken a long time to get to this point, but we've made it. While we're happy together, we're both missing things in our lives. Having become parents at the ages of 20 and 23, we missed out on finding out who we each were as people. As young parents, we've also had a hard time finding the right people, or any people at all for that matter, to hang out and be social with. When people my age were going to college and doing what ever they wanted when they wanted, I was at home with the kids. I say my age because it took me throwing my ring at Perry for him to own up to having kids and responsibilities.
When we had Charlotte, I quit my job knowing that sending three kids to daycare was going to cost more than we could afford. Though I was surrounded by my children all day, I felt, and sometimes still do feel so alone. I have spent many nights crying to my husband about how I'm used to people cancelling on me last minute for play dates or just not showing up at all. For the past few years, all I've known is rejection, and I can't say it any other way than it sucks. Over and over I would get excited because I was asked to do something with someone and then over and over I was let down. It got to the point where Perry had to start telling me to stop getting my hopes up. He's the same way though - he loves playing poker and many times he'll have people tell him they're coming over to play only to have no one show up. He knows how it feels to be rejected, but he's learned from it and has stopped asking people. With his dad passing away a year and a half ago, he's really shut himself off from everyone and it kills me to see him this way.
I'm trying to find out what my calling is in life - what it is that God wants me to do. In a car wreck I should have died in, He saved me and left a cross on my wrist to show for it. When looking at the suburban after the wreck, the door I was next to was the only door without a scratch or dent on it - we rolled three times. A couple years ago I went to a church retreat with my mother-in-law and didn't know anyone but her; yet there were these ladies there praying over me who could tell the Lord had good things planned for me and that I had such a tender spirit. On the last evening of the retreat, a healer came to talk to us. At the end he had invited anyone who had cancer or knew someone who had cancer to come forward and pray with him. At the time, one of my aunts had stage 3 or 4 breast cancer, so I went up to pray for her. He placed his hand on my head as we prayed and then I blacked out and collapsed. A few weeks later I found out she was cancer free.
I feel like for the last ten years He's been calling out for me, and I just haven't been listening but I'm at a point in my life where I want know Him and not just know about Him. I'm excited to see what he has planned for me and my family.
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