My Middle Name's Shane

It was November 1969.  I had just gone through the worst summer of my life.  A summer so tragic that my family never speaks of it and I rarely do unless it's to my dearest, closest friends. I wasn't feeling very good about myself and was very vulnerable.  My friend, Donna, and I had gone out to get a burger at the Steak-n-Shake (aka: The Gag).  Her friend Wanda went along for the ride and she kept going on and on about her boyfriend, Gerry, and how she was going to dump him if she saw him tonight.  We were driving through the parking lot when she spots him.  He runs up to the car to speak to her and she dumps him right there in front of us.  She says she never wants to see him again.  He looked so shocked and sad that before I knew it, I said, "I'll go out with you.  I'd love to actually."  So Donna parked the car and I got out and into Gerry's Nova.  We actually had a great time and he was very sweet.  I really couldn't understand why Wanda tossed him.  He seemed like a great catch.   We had such fun getting to know each other.  He told me that night his middle name was Shane.  Then I happened to see his driver's license and there was an "E" in the middle name spot.  So I had to guess what his real middle name was.  Eugene, no wonder he lied about it.  He hated it.
We began dating exclusively much to his mother's dismay.  I loved Gerry's family very much.  He came from a large Catholic family and I was a Baptist so that was strike number one against me.  Then his mom was uncomfortable with the fact that I was disabled.  But she learned to love me and I was very much a part of this wonderful family.
He took such good care of me.  One morning I was dreading going to work because it had snowed a lot during the night.  I had an apartment in an old house with a lot of stairs outside and I had to park on the street.  Going down the stairs and out to the car on crutches would be tricky plus scraping my car windows on top of that. When I walked out the front door there was a path shoveled all the way to my car and the windows were scraped clean.  He had done that on his way to work and he would continue to do that for me every morning after that.
In April of 1970 we were hit my a drunk driver while coming home from a wedding.  Gerry and I both had concussions but other then that, we were fine, however, my Mustang was toast. Shortly after that we decided we wanted to get married.  Something about going through that accident and surviving it bonded us in some way.  I did not feel comfortable turning Catholic so we eloped to Michigan.  My family knew but it was a shock to his.
Gerry wanted to have a baby right away.  After three months, I think he thought maybe I wasn't able to have children.  That fall we found ourselves expecting but something happened after that.  Now that I was pregnant it was like he didn't want to be around me any more.  I was very, very ill for five months so maybe he couldn't deal with all the throwing up but I rarely saw him.  I kept thinking after the baby came it would be better but it wasn't.  We would separate, reconcile, divorce for 3 years, reconcile, have another baby and divorce again.
Obviously I have left a great deal out of this part of my life but this blog is all about blessings.  So even though our relationship was very rocky, God gave us two of my biggest blessings.  Our two sons, Matthew Shane and Clayton Andrew. I love them very much and they have blessed me with four precious granddaughters.
God is so good to me in spite of my failures, weaknesses and my sin.  His grace is sufficient.

CHOICES

We make so many choices in a day. Whether to get up or stay down, stay in or go out, do good or be bad, love or to hate, worry or trust, be happy or sad and to emotionally hurt or to heal.  You can't sit on that fence for very long.  Sooner or later you have to get down on one side or the other.  Sometimes the side you get down on doesn't work for you so you climb over to the other side.
I went to a Ladies Retreat a few years ago because the speaker was someone I greatly admired and respected.  I had been going through some things about this same time that were really making me sad and my heart hurt and then I heard a life altering talk on Choices.  She said when someone hurts you, choose not to let them.  Whoa, what? I can choose not to be hurt?  Guess what? It works.  However, you can't do it on your own.  This sort of situation must be bathed, showered and scrubbed in prayer. Let me tell you, IT IS NOT EASY.
Are you choosing to worry?  The opposite of worry is trust.  So here is your choice.  Are you going to worry or trust God.  You can't sit on the fence, it's one side or the other.  Is the worry side working for you, if not, crossover to the other side and try trusting God with your whole heart. He will not fail making the right choice for you.
I wish I had know this when I was fourteen.  What those girls said that day was not an attack at me.  It was something said in anger and I chose to let it hurt me.  They didn't pull away from me, I pulled away from them.
I have attended the last couple high school reunions and let me say that I was welcomed and made to feel very accepted and loved by my fellow classmates.  I now keep in touch with many of them and I have grown to love them very much.  This last reunion we had in 2009 was so much fun.  I laughed so hard that night.  I treasure a picture taken by the photographer of all of us girls.  All that time I wasted can never be restored   but I am so thankful for new days and second chances to make the right choice.
So how about you?  Have you chosen to be hurt, worry or even hold a grudge.  You never want to have regrets so make that right choice today. I can tell you from experience, it is soooooo worth it!

The Teen Years

It's been a few weeks sense I've written, well not really because I have deleted everything I've written sense then.  I'm just not sure where to go from here.  I know my last text had a very different tone then what you usually here from me but my life has had it's share of hurts and heartaches like anyone else.  I've had difficulty deciding what to share and what not to share.
My blog is all about my life and the people who have touched it but some of those people came during darker times and some of them touched my life in different ways.
I guess the next chapter would take place in high school.  After my eighth grade year, I was a little lost when I got to University High.  I wasn't really sure where I belonged or what group I would fit into.  I still carried the hurt from some of the girls in my class so I separated myself from them as much as possible.  There were a few girls in my freshman class (Karen and Sally) who were really nice to me but I felt like I didn't fit in much at all.  I guess I didn't trust their kindness toward me so I sought out friendship from the guys and became just one of the boys.  My best friend was a boy by the name of Gary.  He was closer then a brother to me.  I could have spent every day with him and not be bored.  I loved him very much but it wasn't a romantic kind of love.  We would talk about dating once-in-awhile but it was too big a risk to take.  At our age, there are break ups and heart's broken.  We never wanted to lose our relationship or take the chance of breaking each others heart.  But unfortunately, neither one of our future mates would understand our bond and we quit all communication between each other out of love and respect of our spouses feelings.  It was very sad and I missed him very much.  He died a few years ago and I never got to tell him goodbye.  I just pray I will see him again someday.
My junior year I met Sue, (who was nicknamed Sam) in bookkeeping class.  We became lifelong friends.  She lives in Florida now and I had the pleasure of taking my grandgirlies and my son down to see her last year.  She was from the children's home in town and sort of became a member of our family.  We had our first children within months of each other and would always have each other's back, no matter what.
One night Sue and I went over to the college to hang out at the snack bar.  There was usually a dance upstairs on Saturday night and most of the high school kids in town would go there. There was no drinking there so we were not carded, it was easy to get in. This particular Saturday, she was dancing and I was sitting on a couch in the lobby listening to the music.  A very tall, handsome young man came and sat beside me.  He was a Senior at my rival high school. He spent the entire evening talking to me.  When it was time to go home, he jumped on his motorcycle and followed me home so he could make sure I got there safely.  We began to date after that and he became my first love.  He always treated me with such kindness and respect.  He was well over six feet tall and towered above me so I always felt very protected.  I was finally getting to a place where I could trust someone and their feelings for me.  He took me to the Prom and then my senior year he joined the Marines.  We wrote non-stop and I could hardly wait for him to get home from boot camp. However, when he came home he was a little different and it crushed me.  I guess it was all that Marine training, but he had this huge chip on his shoulder and dared anyone to knock it off. Several people advised me that it would wear off and it did.  By his next leave, which was the February before graduation, he was his old sweet self.
It was our plan that as soon as graduation was over, I would fly to California and we would be married.  This was not God'd plan for us and He intervened.  Although this was very difficult for us at the time, I know God  does what's best for me.  It's been a difficult lesson to learn and it has taken decades.
The next ten to fifteen years are those that I wish I could go back and change. My wrong decisions, bad choices and low self-esteem would set me up for physical, emotional, verbal and sexual abuse.  But, through it all, God would never let go of my hand, even though I had let go of His.