I was a teenage Jesus Freak

Recently, I was informed by a person old enough to be my son that I basically had no clue about speaking seriously into another younger person's life. He didn't understand why I didn't just laugh off this person's statement, which to me, sounded dire. He basically said to me that until I lived on the edge of wanting to end it all, instead of just finding a friend dead of suicide, that I really didn't know anything about what the younger generation goes through.

He's right in some respects. I have no idea what it is like to be bombarded with terms such as "sexting" and "reality TV," at a young age, where the goal to life is not to live a good life, but rather to be "unique" and "famous" -- beyond all costs. People aren't satisfied to have 15 minutes of fame, they want to milk their fame for the craziest things, like acting in degrading fashion on shows such as "Jersey Shore" or having a ton of children in "Jon & Kate plus 8."

But I digress. Anyone who knew me in high school could probably attest to the fact that I was a "nice" girl. A "smart" girl. Possibly a "stuck up" girl. A "goofy girl." Life for me at high school was like a dark tunnel where I never saw a light shining at the end. I got books smacked out of my hands, clothes stolen at gym class, hit on the back of the head by someone walking by, tripped at gym class just when I was about to finish running a mile. I got called some horrible names associated with my maiden name; I won't say what the name was, but it has to do with defecation. I remember the last day at Sophomore year of high school, one boy in particular, "David B." stated in German class: "Hey, everybody, I went by Becky's house and BOY, I saw FUMES coming out of their house, it SMELLED so BAD!" Hot tears stung my eyes, but I was NEVER going to let ANYONE at that school see me cry. Never, I vowed. I'd tell a teacher I had a bad headache and run as quickly to the nurses' office as I could. She always gave me a room in which to sob my heart out. I was not allowed to cry at home, as that was a sign of weakness to my mother, and would set her off.

I went home that day and said to my mother, "Either find a way for me to go to college a year early, or I promise you I will QUIT school. I CANNOT stand another day there." I seriously thought death would have been better than to finish my senior year at that place, although I knew I could never kill myself, as that would be a one-way trip to hell for me. All good Lutheran girls and boys KNEW that. But I NEEDED to see the light at the end of that tunnel; I needed SOMETHING for which I could look forward.

Why would anyone behave in such a manner to another human being? I honestly don't know. To this day, if I see someone being bullied, or if I perceive that someone else is picking needlessly on someone else, I get very upset and want to do something to help.

At the time, I was considered a Christian. And I was the best Christian I could be at that time. I had someone hit me once at school, and say to me, "Go on, little Christian girl, FIGHT ME BACK." I didn't. I was constantly reminded that I had a bigger future ahead if I could keep my head. When I took off after the girls who tripped me on the track (with murderous thoughts in my brain towards those girls, I painfully admit), the gym teacher took off running after me, caught me in the middle of the football field and held me back from going after them. She kept telling me, "You'll BE somebody someday! You'll BE somebody someday!" That was the first time I cried out in public.

I took God very seriously. I used to have some deep discussions with one girl in particular, Roberta, about God and heaven and both of us becoming nuns, even though I was a Lutheran! I loved God. I just didn't know why He kept setting me up for torture at school and at home. I'd see all of these people who made fun of me able to enjoy part-time jobs, go out on dates, and just hang out with friends; I was only allowed to hang out with my brothers and sister. If I went to a friend's house, or wanted to do something extra-curricular, I had to have a sibling with me. I could not just be me. I didn't even know who I was, except a Christian and a Beatle fanatic.

And being a Christian at that time was no fun. I got made fun of every single day. Even some of the teachers mocked me, which was harder for me to take. I didn't get it. People didn't like my family, I guess, so they automatically didn't like me. Everyone else had fun. Those girls who were allowed to wear make-up and making horrible fun of me were having a lot more fun than me, I thought. I stopped going to church, because I even got made fun of by some fellow kids there. Later on I would rebel in a big way, and found out ruefully that the "fun" my torturers seemed to be having wasn't fun at all, and almost led to my destruction (but I will cover that in another blog -- soon).

I remember some of the kids calling me "sister Rebecca" because I wrote in a school paper that I would not have sex just because everyone else was doing it. Someone broke into my file in my English class and somehow what I wrote got passed to practically everyone in the class, it seemed, because everyone knew what I wrote -- and got a good laugh out of it. Maybe it was because they all knew my paternal grandmother's reputation as well as my father's, I don't know, but they all thought it was a hoot. I even had to endure one boy looking at me in homeroom, saying, "You want SEX, don't you Becky, you REALLY WANT IT, don't YOU?" I had another kid say to me, "Oh, you're so HOLY, aren't you? You won't have SEX because you're just SUCH a Christian! Haw, haw, haw! Oh, Sister Rebecca, can I KISS your RING?! Ugh, no! You're too dirty! Who'd EVER want to KISS YOU?!" Another run to the nurse's office for a good cry.

I remember thinking at the time that I was just God's little joke on humanity. What sort of impact would I EVER make? Then I felt so horrible one time when a tough girl came up to me and asked, "Hey, are you a Christian or something?"

I froze. I didn't want to fight anyone over Jesus. I loved God, and I was a Christian, but I was too frightened. I weakly replied, "Uh, I-I-I uh, I don't know...."

"Boy, I'm disappointed. I was sure that you were."

I suddenly felt like Peter when he denied Jesus. I broke out in a cold sweat and hollered behind her, "I DO... I DO believe in Jesus! I really DO!" By then, she flitted me off with her hand and had already walked away.

Even though I went on to fall away from Christ and later come back to Him, I was the best Christian I could be at that time in my life. However, I felt like a real failure for Him.

Later on in my life, I found that a few people who taunted me horrendously are now my brothers and sisters in Christ! Was I upset when I found that out? NO, to my initial surprise, and ultimate joy at my response to finding out that they are now Jesus' property. I am so happy to know that there are others who I always loved and thought dear to me who are serving the Lord. I am saddened by those who have not called yet called upon Jesus as their love. But I will continue to pray for them.

I've had a few people apologize to me for their behavior towards me in the past, and I've had a few who have apologized for their lack of standing up for me. I truly love them and hold no anger toward them, in spite of what has happened. And that's not me in action, there, loving people unconditionally. You see, when I was younger, I was going to be rich and famous at any cost just so I could go back to a reunion some day and show THEM. Only God, through the power of Jesus, can take your pain and sorrow and turn it to victory and joy. Only Jesus could take that time when I denied that I was a Christian, and then turn me into a living megaphone for Him!

I want to encourage you, teen and young adult who is facing persecution for whatever reason: HANG on! Stand strong in the glory and power of His might! Know that ALL things work together for good to those who are in Christ Jesus! There IS a light at the end of that proverbial tunnel, and that light is the LIGHT of Jesus Christ! You ARE making a difference! You may be that seed, that water, that ray of sunshine in someone else's life. Please dont' believe it that those people are having more fun than you are -- they are blinded by the lies of this world. I know it personally; I survived it. Don't grow weary of doing good! You, my dear young friend, can MAKE IT!!! If I did, ANYBODY can! God be with you today and always.

Turn Around... Turn Around

The other day, it happened. I survived the day without one of my children adding a new spot or stain to my shirt. Surprisingly, the moment I dreamed of for so long had a bittersweet ring to it. The change is starting to occur.

Soon, I won't tell my daughter, "hold still, I know it stings, but I have to get the knots out of your hair."

In short order I won't tell my soon to be 11-year old, "How many times do I have to TELL you, I don't want to see your stinky old socks in my NICE FRONT ROOM?!"

Before I know it, I won't be reminding my four year old, "Ah-ah-ah, did you wash your hands after going potty?"

In the blink of an eye, I won't be tripping over toys in the hallway, or sitting on Buzz Lightyear toys that catch me unawares (which honestly said, "I have a laser and I'm NOT afraid to use it," when I did sit on that silly toy).

No more chocolate covered kisses, no more "look, Mommy, look at me!", no more giggles over silly sayings and sing songs in the car or Bible stories before bedtime.

No more making the rounds at night, kissing each and every one of them with heartfelt "I love you's."

No more listening to in-depth, insessant stories and facts about your children's favorite subjects.

No more hearing, "I love you, Mommy; you're the BEST and most beautiful Mommy in the World!"

How many times have we told our children, "Oh, will you grow up?" Well, they DO just that, without any encouragement from us; it all happens naturally.

Turn around, turn around, turn around and they're young adults, going out of the door, and having babes of their own.

I know, you may be asking, "Well, gee, you have a four year old, you still have LOTS of time!"

No, I don't. You see, it seems like only yesterday that my 17-year old was wrapping his tiny arms around me, saying, "I love you FOREVER, Mommy!" It seems like a lifetime ago that I cheered on my now 21-year old step-son at a baseball game when he was ten, or skated hand in hand with his now 18-year old brother, singing "I Want It That Way" (I STILL cannot hear that song without a tear welling up in my eyes at that moment in time). Now... well, it's all memories. Memories that I pray never get erased by age.


Mercy, my house is going to be TOO quiet when my children eventually leave the nest!


So, I need to treasure every moment, hold onto it and cherish every single second with those remaining pearls I know as my children. Make sure to create mental snapshots of those sweet memories along this journey of life. Today, I'm going to go get a free pretzel with the children. I'm going to make a more concerted effort to enjoy what time I do have with my beauties. I can attest that it all goes by so very quickly, and then someday, you must say goodbye to the ones you love. Cherish it, with all your heart. So your child is acting in an irritating factor? Cherish those moments, too, while directing them back on course the best way you can.

Just before I took to this blog, I glanced out of the window. There was my wonderful husband, walking along. Directly behind him, followed my beautifully handsome son, smiling as he tried to match my husband's pace, step by step. A tear came to my eye as I silently prayed, "May you walk in the way of your father, my sweet boy, and may you grow strong in the Lord, now and forever."