Even though I have not told everything I encountered during my walk on the dark side of life, I think perhaps I have shared enough. Until I feel a necessity, a God prod, those memories will be still.
It's been almost 3 months since my last entry of Facing the Darkness. My last look back on the life that almost killed me. Physically, mentally, and spiritually. And, I am now anxious to share how God delivered me. How He called my name and set me in a place of real living. A place not free of trials, but a place of peace while walking through anything life places in my path.
I will never forget the drive down Rush & Linda's (brother & sister-in-law) lane, coming "home" from a long day at Miami Beauty College. I was crying. So very lonely, still. I had asked God to guide me, to protect me, to please never leave me, to take charge of what was left of me. I had offered Him brokenness, and He was carefully picking up the pieces of what was left of me. But the journey I must take to get to the place He had pre-ordained for me, was not going to be easy. As I cried, driving down that lane filled with potholes, I simply said, "If only I could sit with my Father (meaning my dad). He would know what I should do." There was an immediate response to my spirit, that said, "I am your Father. You can talk to me anytime you want." There was an instant calm that came over me, even though I wasn't sure I would know any answers. I couldn't explain it any further than that. Still tears, yet instant calm.
Only a few days after my return to Oklahoma, back in 1973, either my sister, Becky, or brother Ken, (maybe both), had asked me, "If you could do anything with your life, what would it be?" Since I had always dreamed of becoming a hair and skin care specialist, that was my reply. So, they contacted other brothers and sisters (I had a bunch), and they all agreed to secure me a place in the local beauty school. Even back then, it wasn't cheap! Yet, they were there for me. For their little wayward sister that had gotten her foot stuck. They knew I needed something to put my hands and mind to, to keep me from wandering back into the very dark abyss. I will also never, ever, forget the times my brother Ken, would find opportunity to stick a wad of bills in my hands, "to put gas in your car" or "in case you would like to go to lunch with someone". Just remembering these times, has brought tears to my eyes, this morning. My heart is so full, because God put me in a family that loves unconditionally. I never felt I deserved them. I never felt deserving of what they selflessly gave up so I could stand up. I will be forever grateful. They grabbed me out of a pit so deep, so dark, and faced me toward the light of God's saving grace, His provision (with their hard earned dollars). That is how God chooses to provide. He uses His own family. We are His. We are His hands extended. And my family was willing...
I had just begun attending Commerce Community Church with a few of my family members, when a traveling minister came into town. After the meeting one evening, my sister-in-law and I were visiting with him. He asked us to come to where he would next be holding a tent-meeting revival. It was an old-time-sawdust-floor tent revival. We agreed to go on a Wednesday evening. This would turn out to be another event that has been burned/seared into my conscience. I was a new convert that was still wearing mini skirts, and looking much like a street walker. Linda was a lady that just loved looking nice. You would never catch her out and about without dangling earrings, red lipstick, hair properly fixed, and dressed to the nines, with matching heels.
I was pretty bold/stupid/naive in those days, and being a new convert, I wanted to hear EVERYTHING, regardless of how I was dressed. So we marched our colorful little selves right up to the second row from the front. Sat in the middle of the row so we could easily hear the preacher speak and would have no problem seeing him. We were early. But then...the tent began to fill with its attendees. Little did we know we would be sitting in a pentecostal event where the women mostly wore long dresses, no makeup, and had long hair wrapped up in a braided bun on top of their heads. We felt as if we had walked into a black and white picture and a spot light had been turned on us, as we sat there, innocently, in vibrant living color. Linda immediately reached up to her dangling earrings, and with one smooth motion, pulled them gently off her lobes. Well, my ears were pierced, so that wasn't going to work for me, and I really didn't care. Still very young in Christendom. 😉
It was there that I met my forever husband-to-be. My eyes were on him the minute he pulled the tent curtain back, and walked to a seat directly in front of me. He was tall. He was blonde. His shoulders were broad, and his hands massive. I loved his hands! Every time he raised them in worship, I stared. I could feel the tender strength they embodied. He introduced himself to me 3 times that night. Every chance he got, he turned, reached out his hand for mine, and re-introduced himself. I think I must have confused the poor lad. Or he just wanted to hold my hand. Or look at all the color I brought to the room. I'm not sure. Maybe he just couldn't believe I was wearing a mini skirt to a revival.
The following week, the minister came to dinner at my brother and sister-in-laws house. One of the first things he said to me, as he sat down to eat, was "Do you remember the guy that sat in front of you at the meeting last week?" I said, "Yes. Dennis?" He confirmed that was his name (didn't have to, cause I remembered), and then said, "He asked me to set him up with you for a date." My heart may have jumped just a little. Dennis' church was having a pizza get together the following week where I agreed to meet up with him. I remember watching him chew on a drinking straw. I think I was really just taken with his lips. We've been together ever since that night, with only one little blurp along the way. It was right after his birthday, and I had given him a bracelet with his name engraved on the underneath side, along with a secret message. I had pooled my tips together to buy this very special gift for him. That moment in time lasted only a couple of weeks before he was back asking for me to go out with him again. Seems like several members of his church, along with another churches pastor, thought we would be a bad fit, and said he should break it off. That is a story I may talk about later. Or maybe not. Not sure...
My beautiful husband and I have been together for the better part of 47 years, now. I think we might make it. Like most marriages, we have had our tough places, our awesome sauce places, and our soul searching places. But we have had them ALL together!!! No partner should ever say, "I need some space," and then separate to "clear their head", or "see if we are meant to be together" kind of thing. That is ludicrous. How does one work things out when they are separated? Makes no sense. The only time I think one partner should leave the other, is when the marriage vows have been broken through mental, physical, or infidelity abuse.
I will end this session with letting you know that I have no idea what a "honeymoon" is. Unless it is a description of choosing happiness, over sadness, and not just for the first month of being married. Our first date was July 3rd, 1974, and we married on December 14th, of that same year. Our first night of wedded bliss was in a local motel room, so we could move from our consecutive homes the next day. He had to go to work the following day, so a destination trip was out of the question. We had very little money, anyway. Dennis had sold $200-$300 in bonds, to pay for wedding decorations, pictures, and the wedding cake, and I had just graduated beauty school a few months before and was working for peanuts, as they say, then quit to move to Granby, MO. We would be living on his income for awhile. We had each other. That was enough.
I will say this. We were both fairly new Christians. Ironically, we both gave our hearts over to God, in 1973, having never met until the following year. He came out of a world of drugs, and I from a world of loose living. What a pair! But God was moving us toward His purpose for our lives. Little by little.
I have no idea when the next entry will be, nor what it will be about. I'm just taking my cues from the Lord, who seems to have a mission, where my life's journey is concerned.
As always, here you'll find me...in Mary's World
