I have a story to tell.
About a girl who through five weddings, four husbands, three children, had two choices and was saved by one Saviour.
It’s a story of Hope in a life that seemed hopeless.
But before you can understand my story and why this happened you first need to understand the how. How could someone make so many terrible mistakes.
How? By the seeds of deception. Seeds that would grow into paralyzing lies.
This is the how
I was born in the city of Oakville, Ontario and moved to a small, Northern town at the age of four. My grandparents had relocated North a few years prior, and so with two young girls in tote, my parents decided to follow suite. I am the youngest of two girls. My sister was planned; I was not. They hoped for a boy; I was not. I had colic; my sister did not. I constantly cried; my sister did not. My sister was the good girl; I was not. My Mother would often tell the story about how I was not planned. How extra cautious they were to not get pregnant but I came along anyway. I would then hear about the bad colic I had. How I cried constantly during my first few months. How miserable everything was the summer I was born. I would hear about how good my sister was; so shy and quiet never causing any trouble and how much trouble I was. Now these are not terrible stories being told; they’re just funny stories my mom would tell with a light heart while reminiscing. But what is terrible is how these stories got distorted into seeds of deception. Seeds that were planted and nurtured. Seeds satan used to plant lies in my head. Lies that would repeat in my head for many years to come. Lies that would say “you aren’t what anyone wants”, “you are a disappointment” “you are a nuisance” "you are a screw up". Of course, this was not what my mother was saying but it is what I heard.
One day when I was around eight years old my parents went out for the day, and I was left to be babysat by family. At that time, we lived beside my Grandparents who also had a cottage across the road on Georgian Bay. Georgian Bay is a beautiful piece of the earth and the area where we live is often referred to as “the Gateway to 30,000 Islands”. On this particular day my cousin and I, without anyone’s permission, decided we were going to take my Poppa’s aluminum boat out for a ride to one of these 30,000 islands. An island we referred to as Turtle Island. We were only there for a few minutes when my cousin hopped back in the boat, pulled it out from shore and then told me I had to swim out to the boat if I wanted to get back home. There was seaweed, it was rocky and there were turtles. I was too frightened to swim to the boat, so he left me alone on that island. I have absolutely no memory of the time I was alone on that island or for how long I was left there for; it has been completely blocked from my memory. I often think about that little girl who was left alone on that island far from shore. What thoughts were going through her head? How frightened would she have been? How much time passed before she was noticed missing? At some point someone did notice I was gone, and my Poppa and cousin came to get me. Twenty-four years later I told my therapist the story, she asked how my parents responded and I didn’t have an answer. Unfortunately, no one told my parents of the traumatic experience that had happened to me that day and I guess I just buried it. As I sat there alone that day and the days to follow lies got planted in my head. Lies that would say, “you really don’t matter” “no one really cares” “no one will even notice you’re gone”.
This is my story
I was brought up in a Christian home, parents never fought, no lies, no deception. Wonderful memories of potlucks, fellowship gatherings, prayer meetings and bible studies. My parents had a gospel band, so they were either practising songs or travelling around from one venue to another playing music and praising God. It was the 70’s so we all had Volks Wagon vans or Volks Wagon bugs, and there was a constant flow of shenanigans always going on
I would often describe my upbringing was like being raised by Ward and June Clever. It truly was wonderful.
[For those who don’t know who Ward and June clever were, they were characters from the sitcom, "Leave it to Beaver" – a comedy show based around a perfect American family in the 60’s]
And then in 1982 I became a teenager and things weren’t so wonderful anymore. My teenage years were a typical rebellious journey, I started dating a fella who didn’t know the Lord.
God knew I was going to have a tough journey. But, He also knew that I would always have a heart that would seek after Him. He had to allow me to take the journey I chose because He gave me the gift of my own free will. He wouldn't stop me from doing what I did, but He would work around the choices I made for His ultimate will.
And look what He has done; He has restored what the enemy tried to devour.
My friends I want to encourage you with this truth of hope. Your sins are never too big for God to forgive. There is no wrong path you can take that He won't go down to save you. You can never be too far from Him.
God loves you deeply. If you ever have any doubt of His faithfulness and love. If you ever are in a place where you think there is no way out, think of the girl who was married 5 times and was judged not once. Who was offered forgiveness.
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