Recently, I went on a Facebook stalking mission and found my old high school youth pastors. I also found some friends from the good old CLF (Christian Life Fellowship) Youth Group. Seeing these faces brought back a flood of AMAZING memories. At the same time, I began reading, "Home is Where My People Are," by Sophie Hudson. All this talk about home and the memories of a great season in my life in my faith journey got me thinking. I've shared many stories and countless emotions on this blessed blog, but I have never shared my story. My tag line is, "Life is a journey. Let's talk about it." I guess I should start with my story.
I grew up in an idyllic neighborhood. There were 12 houses and about 25 kids. We played outside until the street lights came on, rode our bikes to Thrifties crossing a major intersection to get ice cream and candy, and jumped each other's fences between our backyards to play. My family was healthy financially and physically. We went on vacations, my parents supported me and my sister's extra-curricular activities, and we went to the beach every Sunday. Life was good. Until sixth grade.
When I was in sixth grade everything changed. We moved to a "better" house up the road and life went from easy to complicated really fast. The house was a little more than my parents could muster and they began the ugly financial spiral downhill. My sister is almost seven years older than I. She left the house and got married soon after our move to the "lake house." She and I were not exceptionally close during this season. As time passed, things progressively got worse. We were not a church family. We didn't go to church nor did we talk about God much. I may have heard God mentioned at Christmas and Easter but that was about it.
As the problems continued for my mom and dad, I began searching. When I was a freshman in high school, my friend, Kellyann, invited me to her youth group at CLF. I will never forget this little church in an office park. The group was exactly what I needed. I did everything I could. I went to summer and winter camp, attended Wednesday nights (I think it was Wednesdays. May have been Sundays), and went to as many social outings as I was allowed. Home was not a peaceful place and I needed peace. I also needed to feel a sense of belonging. I got that at CLF.
My family life continued to deteriorate. We lost the house and moved into an apartment. When you live in Orange County, California and have to move into an apartment in high school while everyone else is living in beautiful houses and driving brand new Camaros, life feels like it's ending. Thankfully, however, I now had a boyfriend and was still involved in my youth group. During this time, I felt a strong pull between the world and God. While I always ALWAYS knew my parents loved me and were proud of me, my home life was not the best and I had a boyfriend who did not attend church. I really had no accountability at home so I began to live to very separate lives.
I longed for the Christian life. When I was with my youth group I was there 110%. However, when I was at school or with my boyfriend I was fully engaged in the world. I was not a huge partier, although I did attend a few in my time. I was a searcher. I wanted to belong and thought giving myself to my boyfriend was the key to that lock. I thought all those insecurities and longings would be fulfilled if I engaged in things that would keep him around. I was dead wrong. The hole remained and I continued to search. Thankfully, I had this group of people in my youth group that always felt like home when I was with them. I don't think any of them know how much they saved me.
I graduated high school and my youth group. I felt lost once again. My high school boyfriend and I broke-up when he went to college. So, there I was, alone looking for that thing that would fill me. My dad started going to church so I'd join him on Sunday. This was a big church and I remember him telling me that I needed to get involved. Of course I did what every know-it-all 18 year old does and rolled my eyes and went on my merry way. Until, somehow, someway, I got involved with the high school youth group again. I became a volunteer and began co-leading a small group of girls. My co-leaders (I had two) were a little older and wiser than me and little did they know that while we were co-leading these high school girls, they were also mentoring me. God is so rad. (I still talk with one of my co-leaders. She still guides me from time-to-time and I absolutely LOVE it!)
When I was 17 I met Scott. He was a busser and I was a hostess at the local Mexican food restaurant. We began a friendship talking during slow times and eventually talking for hours on the phone. We began dating and I still going to church with my dad. Scott was not a Christian. I would say he was an agnostic at the time. I remember going out to eat after church with my dad and crying knowing in my heart that I should break-up with him. Life would be hard if we continued onto marriage and family and I was in the faith and he was not. Of course every single message at church was for me talking about being equally yoked, yada, yada, yada.
But, being the brilliant I-know-everything-and-can-change-him young adult that I was, I stayed with Scott for three years. He was such a gentleman and treated me right. Remember that sense of belonging I had in high school? I still had it and filled it with Scott. I will never forget the day he told me we needed to talk. He walked into my apartment and broke up with me telling me he didn't love me anymore. I was heart-broken but I know that he did it to protect me. So did my Heavenly Father. God knew I would never break it off with Scott. He knew I needed Scott to do it. He also knew that Scott needed to go through some stuff on his own in order to find his faith. Scott stilled loved me. He loved me so deeply he broke up with me. I know that sounds incredibly backward, but it's the truth. I will tell Scott's story at another time.
We broke up in the summer. After that, I dove into my faith. I remember falling to my knees in the hallway of my tiny apartment sobbing telling God, "I give up. I give up. I surrender. I have tried this on my own trying to control every which way of my life and I am done. Depleted. Nothing left." I will never EVER forget that moment. I truly believe that is when my life changed. Yes, I gave my life to Jesus around the fire pit at summer camp after my sophomore year. Yes, I was baptized my senior year. But, I don't think I got it until that moment on my knees desperate for the void to be filled by something other than everything I tried to stuff it with. I needed Jesus. Pure, perfect, life-giving Jesus.
I threw myself into school and church serving as much as I could where I could and loved every minute. It brought back all those amazing memories I had from my youth group days. I felt like I mattered and like I had a place where I fit. I also let go of Scott. I remember going over to my best friend's house in tears. I walked in and told her and her mom what was up. Kathy (my best friend's mom) looked at me and said bluntly, "Are you ready to leave it at the cross?" No. I wasn't ready. Leaving it at the cross meant I gave up control and I like control. But, I knew deep within that my control got me into trouble and caused my grief. So, we kneeled together and I gave it up and left it at the cross. I love my mama Kathy. That moment reminds me that she is still with me looking down from Heaven smiling a proud smile. That makes me happy.
Eight months later, Scott and I found our way back to each other. He had found his faith through some major life experiences he had while we were apart and I was in a much better place. No longer was I searching for a person to fill my voids. I found the only one who could fill those empty holes inside: Jesus. He and I got married at a small Baptist church in July of 2002. He was baptized and has grown in his faith tremendously over the years. Never in a million years did I think God would bless me with the one whom my soul loves (Song of Solomon 3:4). I thought I couldn't have him. Yet, God blew my socks off and blessed me exceedingly beyond all I could ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20). We have three beautiful boys that keep us on our toes. We have the blessed privilege of being able to watch them grow-up in their faith; something Scott and I didn't have.
My family is all saved. My dad is probably my biggest faith cheerleader and has the best redemption story. I love redemption stories. My sister and I are super close and I love and adore our time together. My mom is my biggest supporter even when it's hard (like living halfway across the country from her). When I graduated from high school my parents gave me a Bible. Inscribed on the front was Jeremiah 29:11-14 ..."plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen. When you come looking for me, you’ll find me." When I got serious about finding Him and wanted it more than anything else, He did not disappoint. He continues to blow me away today; even in the trials and dark spaces.
We all have a story; a journey to talk about. Our stories are written to touch the lives of others. I finished my notes for a Bible study I am facilitating right before I began this blog post. The topic is about being the hope. My prayer is that my story can be your hope. Even when you feel completely lost, He is right there. He's got you tight!
Love & Blessings,
Meg
I grew up in an idyllic neighborhood. There were 12 houses and about 25 kids. We played outside until the street lights came on, rode our bikes to Thrifties crossing a major intersection to get ice cream and candy, and jumped each other's fences between our backyards to play. My family was healthy financially and physically. We went on vacations, my parents supported me and my sister's extra-curricular activities, and we went to the beach every Sunday. Life was good. Until sixth grade.
When I was in sixth grade everything changed. We moved to a "better" house up the road and life went from easy to complicated really fast. The house was a little more than my parents could muster and they began the ugly financial spiral downhill. My sister is almost seven years older than I. She left the house and got married soon after our move to the "lake house." She and I were not exceptionally close during this season. As time passed, things progressively got worse. We were not a church family. We didn't go to church nor did we talk about God much. I may have heard God mentioned at Christmas and Easter but that was about it.
As the problems continued for my mom and dad, I began searching. When I was a freshman in high school, my friend, Kellyann, invited me to her youth group at CLF. I will never forget this little church in an office park. The group was exactly what I needed. I did everything I could. I went to summer and winter camp, attended Wednesday nights (I think it was Wednesdays. May have been Sundays), and went to as many social outings as I was allowed. Home was not a peaceful place and I needed peace. I also needed to feel a sense of belonging. I got that at CLF.
My family life continued to deteriorate. We lost the house and moved into an apartment. When you live in Orange County, California and have to move into an apartment in high school while everyone else is living in beautiful houses and driving brand new Camaros, life feels like it's ending. Thankfully, however, I now had a boyfriend and was still involved in my youth group. During this time, I felt a strong pull between the world and God. While I always ALWAYS knew my parents loved me and were proud of me, my home life was not the best and I had a boyfriend who did not attend church. I really had no accountability at home so I began to live to very separate lives.
I longed for the Christian life. When I was with my youth group I was there 110%. However, when I was at school or with my boyfriend I was fully engaged in the world. I was not a huge partier, although I did attend a few in my time. I was a searcher. I wanted to belong and thought giving myself to my boyfriend was the key to that lock. I thought all those insecurities and longings would be fulfilled if I engaged in things that would keep him around. I was dead wrong. The hole remained and I continued to search. Thankfully, I had this group of people in my youth group that always felt like home when I was with them. I don't think any of them know how much they saved me.
I graduated high school and my youth group. I felt lost once again. My high school boyfriend and I broke-up when he went to college. So, there I was, alone looking for that thing that would fill me. My dad started going to church so I'd join him on Sunday. This was a big church and I remember him telling me that I needed to get involved. Of course I did what every know-it-all 18 year old does and rolled my eyes and went on my merry way. Until, somehow, someway, I got involved with the high school youth group again. I became a volunteer and began co-leading a small group of girls. My co-leaders (I had two) were a little older and wiser than me and little did they know that while we were co-leading these high school girls, they were also mentoring me. God is so rad. (I still talk with one of my co-leaders. She still guides me from time-to-time and I absolutely LOVE it!)
When I was 17 I met Scott. He was a busser and I was a hostess at the local Mexican food restaurant. We began a friendship talking during slow times and eventually talking for hours on the phone. We began dating and I still going to church with my dad. Scott was not a Christian. I would say he was an agnostic at the time. I remember going out to eat after church with my dad and crying knowing in my heart that I should break-up with him. Life would be hard if we continued onto marriage and family and I was in the faith and he was not. Of course every single message at church was for me talking about being equally yoked, yada, yada, yada.
But, being the brilliant I-know-everything-and-can-change-him young adult that I was, I stayed with Scott for three years. He was such a gentleman and treated me right. Remember that sense of belonging I had in high school? I still had it and filled it with Scott. I will never forget the day he told me we needed to talk. He walked into my apartment and broke up with me telling me he didn't love me anymore. I was heart-broken but I know that he did it to protect me. So did my Heavenly Father. God knew I would never break it off with Scott. He knew I needed Scott to do it. He also knew that Scott needed to go through some stuff on his own in order to find his faith. Scott stilled loved me. He loved me so deeply he broke up with me. I know that sounds incredibly backward, but it's the truth. I will tell Scott's story at another time.
We broke up in the summer. After that, I dove into my faith. I remember falling to my knees in the hallway of my tiny apartment sobbing telling God, "I give up. I give up. I surrender. I have tried this on my own trying to control every which way of my life and I am done. Depleted. Nothing left." I will never EVER forget that moment. I truly believe that is when my life changed. Yes, I gave my life to Jesus around the fire pit at summer camp after my sophomore year. Yes, I was baptized my senior year. But, I don't think I got it until that moment on my knees desperate for the void to be filled by something other than everything I tried to stuff it with. I needed Jesus. Pure, perfect, life-giving Jesus.
I threw myself into school and church serving as much as I could where I could and loved every minute. It brought back all those amazing memories I had from my youth group days. I felt like I mattered and like I had a place where I fit. I also let go of Scott. I remember going over to my best friend's house in tears. I walked in and told her and her mom what was up. Kathy (my best friend's mom) looked at me and said bluntly, "Are you ready to leave it at the cross?" No. I wasn't ready. Leaving it at the cross meant I gave up control and I like control. But, I knew deep within that my control got me into trouble and caused my grief. So, we kneeled together and I gave it up and left it at the cross. I love my mama Kathy. That moment reminds me that she is still with me looking down from Heaven smiling a proud smile. That makes me happy.
Eight months later, Scott and I found our way back to each other. He had found his faith through some major life experiences he had while we were apart and I was in a much better place. No longer was I searching for a person to fill my voids. I found the only one who could fill those empty holes inside: Jesus. He and I got married at a small Baptist church in July of 2002. He was baptized and has grown in his faith tremendously over the years. Never in a million years did I think God would bless me with the one whom my soul loves (Song of Solomon 3:4). I thought I couldn't have him. Yet, God blew my socks off and blessed me exceedingly beyond all I could ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20). We have three beautiful boys that keep us on our toes. We have the blessed privilege of being able to watch them grow-up in their faith; something Scott and I didn't have.
My family is all saved. My dad is probably my biggest faith cheerleader and has the best redemption story. I love redemption stories. My sister and I are super close and I love and adore our time together. My mom is my biggest supporter even when it's hard (like living halfway across the country from her). When I graduated from high school my parents gave me a Bible. Inscribed on the front was Jeremiah 29:11-14 ..."plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen. When you come looking for me, you’ll find me." When I got serious about finding Him and wanted it more than anything else, He did not disappoint. He continues to blow me away today; even in the trials and dark spaces.
We all have a story; a journey to talk about. Our stories are written to touch the lives of others. I finished my notes for a Bible study I am facilitating right before I began this blog post. The topic is about being the hope. My prayer is that my story can be your hope. Even when you feel completely lost, He is right there. He's got you tight!
Love & Blessings,
Meg
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