Stormy
Member
I apologize in advance for the length. I have never told my complete story, so figuring out what is relevant was difficult.
I was born into what I call a "nothing" home. My father was a lapsed Catholic and my mother was a lapsed Baptist. Sunday was just another day and God was never discussed. The closest thing to religious instruction that I had was the Peanuts Christmas special when Linus recites Luke 2:8-14. I am the youngest of 4 girls and was a "surprise" as my mother was 43 and my dad was 48 when I was born. My sisters we 21, 19, and 13 when I was born, so they thought their time for babies was long past.
They divorced when I was 5, which is also when my last sister at home moved out, and I only saw my father once or twice a year after that even though he only lived an hour away. My mother was very "hands-off" in her parenting and worked long hours, so I was alone a LOT and even started staying home alone at 9. Figuring life out by myself was my normal. TV was my babysitter, so I have an unusual amount of 80s/90s pop culture knowledge. I attended public school for K-6th grade and was very good at school work. My teachers' only criticism was that I wouldn't talk much or answer questions.
I had one friend who happened to come from a Christian family, so when I stayed the night with her, we would go to church. I didn't understand a lot of it and was mostly bored through services, but at least it was something to do. It was Harvest church in Riverside and the pastor was Greg Laurie. Back then it wasn't the megachurch it is now, but they did have a summer camp on Catalina Island that my mom agreed to send me to when I was 12 so I would get out of her hair for a couple of weeks. Her only request was that I not talk about all of that "God stuff" when I got back.
That camp was where I first heard the Gospel in a way I understood. I totally got the sinner part. I knew I had done bad things both because of my conscience and because my grandmother and sisters constantly reminded me of what a burden I was to my poor mother simply by existing. The idea that I also had disobeyed and offended God was not surprising to me. That He had come down to Earth and died and rose again to save me and wanted to have a relationship with me and even loved little, insignificant me was new information, though. I gave my life to Him in the first week and was baptized in the ocean the following day. I sent a letter to my mom, telling her what had happened, because a counselor told me I needed to tell someone, but she never responded.
Once I got home Mom said that was good for me, but never try to talk to her about it again. Unfortunately, Harvest did not have a follow-up program back then, so I was left alone with my new faith and had no idea what I was supposed to do. This was 1989, so I couldn't just Google it. I thought that was it and I was just supposed to carry on like normal.
From 7th grade on, my mother put me into a Christian school that had a good college prep curriculum. That's when I got my first bible. They had chapel on Wednesdays and my mom said that was enough church for me. It wasn't. Most of the sermons were about obeying parents and teachers. That's it. The teachers were good, but didn't get into theology very much, even in bible class. A lot of the other students were there because they had gotten into trouble in public school and very few were saved.
My father died of cancer 2 weeks before I started 9th grade (he was a long-time Lucky Strike chain smoker). I was not allowed to go to the funeral because my mother wanted me to get ready for the new school year and was not allowed to show emotion over it because she said she was the one that was married to him for 30 years and I barely knew him so I had no reason to be sad.
On the first day of school that year, my appendix ruptured and I had to have emergency surgery. I had a bad reaction to the anesthesia and ending up missing 4 months of school, although my teachers sent work home so I wouldn't fall behind. Through all of this I prayed and read my bible a lot, so God managed to use it for something good. This worried my mom, so she said I had to read about other religions too before I could decide on one. The thing that struck me about other ones was how they all required me to work to find favor with God or the universe or whatever, but Jesus had already done the work for me. Plus, their ideas on paradise, nirvana, etc. sounded awful compared to eternity with Jesus.
Once I went back to school, things were very different. People had started having parties and drinking, even in the locker room at school. I am ashamed to say I wanted to fit in, so I did whatever everyone else was doing. My relationship with God grew increasingly distant, although I still believed.
I started dating a guy in 10th grade and followed the crowd on that, too. I had a full scholarship to an expensive private college and I blew it when I got pregnant 4 months after graduation. He had no interest in being a father, so I continued the single mom cycle of my family on June 9, 1996 when I was just 18.
The next 5 years were a blur of community college, long work hours, and parenting alone. I didn't have time for God unless I needed to pray for help. I was that friend that only calls you when they need something.
My mother moved from California to North Carolina the day after my son was born and I followed to be near her 6 months later.
Since there were so many churches in my new community, I started checking them out. Many were not pleased with the girl with the baby outside of marriage and let me know I wasn't welcome. I settled on one just to stop church hopping, although they made it very clear that I could never be a member. They said my son could, though, so I kept going in the hope that he would at least be part of it when he was older if he chose.
I met a guy through that church who said he accepted me despite my obvious sin. I was so grateful at that point that I happily agreed to start dating. In July of 2001, we got married. I miscarried on September 18th, 2001 and that and 9/11 had me crying out to God and begging Him to give me another chance. I read my bible constantly and talked to my husband and mom about Jesus all the time. One time, in the car, I said "Guess what?" to him and he sighed and said "Its something about Jesus, isn't it?" My mom just argued with me about how all paths lead to God and asked me not to talk about it any more.
A year later, I had another boy. 2 years after that, a girl. 12 months and 14 days later, another girl. 10 months and l4 days later, my final boy. I had started homeschooling when my oldest was in 1st grade because I couldn't afford Christian school and he had learning struggles I didn't think the public school would help. As each new baby showed up, I just kept teaching and ended up homeschooling all of them.
My last child was born with a number of health issues. A bad heart valve, developmental delay, autism, and Tourette's, among other things. He is the sweetest kid even now and has expressed love for Jesus to the best of his ability.
Shortly after my last child was born, my husband and I started having problems. He took issue with me saying he needed his own relationship with Jesus and being born into a Christian family doesn't save you. Over a period of about 2 years, he went from saying he would try to saying he never loved me, never wanted to marry me, and refused counseling, couple or individual. I am sad to say I felt so defeated that I fell into depression and ultimately we divorced. The distance from God grew again, because I knew He hates divorce and felt terrible that we did it anyway. Some people in our church told me that my son's conditions were a punishment for getting divorced, that God knew ahead of time what would happen so he allowed it to happen before we were even having problems. I know that isn't true and my son is awesome anyway, but it still hurt to hear.
A few years later I married again, this time to a man who also loves the Lord, and returned to my previous eagerness to be closer to God. I gained 2 "bonus kids" that I also homeschooled through high school and the oldest 3 are now out in the world while we have 4 teenagers at home.
To this day, I struggle with whether our marriage is ok with God. I have repented of my previous failure, but I read different things from pastors saying either stay together and live for God from here on out, or separate from each other and be alone because otherwise it is continuing sin. We are taking the first route, but I still worry and pray about it.
My mother is now 86 and had a stroke a few years ago, leaving her unable to really speak or get around. She lived with us for a while until I could no longer handle her care, then moved to a nursing home near one of my sisters in another state. I have shared the Gospel with her repeatedly and before the stroke she was very hostile to it. Now she listens but shakes her head when I am done. I still pray that she will come to Him before it is too late. My dad wasn't saved and neither are any of my sisters. I hate to think about never seeing any of them again. I am the "crazy Christian" in the family, so they don't listen to me and we don't really have a relationship anymore. I just pray for them now.
We moved to Virginia in 2014 and while I love it here, we haven't found a church yet that preaches anything other than feel-good sermons about basically nothing. Because of my son's health issues and a recent open heart surgery, we haven't been attending in person since the churches reopened. I know we have some great preachers on this forum, so if anyone wants to send me a link to watch their sermons online, that would be great. I want to keep my family focused on Christ and it looks like online may be my only option.
Thanks for reading my novel!
I was born into what I call a "nothing" home. My father was a lapsed Catholic and my mother was a lapsed Baptist. Sunday was just another day and God was never discussed. The closest thing to religious instruction that I had was the Peanuts Christmas special when Linus recites Luke 2:8-14. I am the youngest of 4 girls and was a "surprise" as my mother was 43 and my dad was 48 when I was born. My sisters we 21, 19, and 13 when I was born, so they thought their time for babies was long past.
They divorced when I was 5, which is also when my last sister at home moved out, and I only saw my father once or twice a year after that even though he only lived an hour away. My mother was very "hands-off" in her parenting and worked long hours, so I was alone a LOT and even started staying home alone at 9. Figuring life out by myself was my normal. TV was my babysitter, so I have an unusual amount of 80s/90s pop culture knowledge. I attended public school for K-6th grade and was very good at school work. My teachers' only criticism was that I wouldn't talk much or answer questions.
I had one friend who happened to come from a Christian family, so when I stayed the night with her, we would go to church. I didn't understand a lot of it and was mostly bored through services, but at least it was something to do. It was Harvest church in Riverside and the pastor was Greg Laurie. Back then it wasn't the megachurch it is now, but they did have a summer camp on Catalina Island that my mom agreed to send me to when I was 12 so I would get out of her hair for a couple of weeks. Her only request was that I not talk about all of that "God stuff" when I got back.
That camp was where I first heard the Gospel in a way I understood. I totally got the sinner part. I knew I had done bad things both because of my conscience and because my grandmother and sisters constantly reminded me of what a burden I was to my poor mother simply by existing. The idea that I also had disobeyed and offended God was not surprising to me. That He had come down to Earth and died and rose again to save me and wanted to have a relationship with me and even loved little, insignificant me was new information, though. I gave my life to Him in the first week and was baptized in the ocean the following day. I sent a letter to my mom, telling her what had happened, because a counselor told me I needed to tell someone, but she never responded.
Once I got home Mom said that was good for me, but never try to talk to her about it again. Unfortunately, Harvest did not have a follow-up program back then, so I was left alone with my new faith and had no idea what I was supposed to do. This was 1989, so I couldn't just Google it. I thought that was it and I was just supposed to carry on like normal.
From 7th grade on, my mother put me into a Christian school that had a good college prep curriculum. That's when I got my first bible. They had chapel on Wednesdays and my mom said that was enough church for me. It wasn't. Most of the sermons were about obeying parents and teachers. That's it. The teachers were good, but didn't get into theology very much, even in bible class. A lot of the other students were there because they had gotten into trouble in public school and very few were saved.
My father died of cancer 2 weeks before I started 9th grade (he was a long-time Lucky Strike chain smoker). I was not allowed to go to the funeral because my mother wanted me to get ready for the new school year and was not allowed to show emotion over it because she said she was the one that was married to him for 30 years and I barely knew him so I had no reason to be sad.
On the first day of school that year, my appendix ruptured and I had to have emergency surgery. I had a bad reaction to the anesthesia and ending up missing 4 months of school, although my teachers sent work home so I wouldn't fall behind. Through all of this I prayed and read my bible a lot, so God managed to use it for something good. This worried my mom, so she said I had to read about other religions too before I could decide on one. The thing that struck me about other ones was how they all required me to work to find favor with God or the universe or whatever, but Jesus had already done the work for me. Plus, their ideas on paradise, nirvana, etc. sounded awful compared to eternity with Jesus.
Once I went back to school, things were very different. People had started having parties and drinking, even in the locker room at school. I am ashamed to say I wanted to fit in, so I did whatever everyone else was doing. My relationship with God grew increasingly distant, although I still believed.
I started dating a guy in 10th grade and followed the crowd on that, too. I had a full scholarship to an expensive private college and I blew it when I got pregnant 4 months after graduation. He had no interest in being a father, so I continued the single mom cycle of my family on June 9, 1996 when I was just 18.
The next 5 years were a blur of community college, long work hours, and parenting alone. I didn't have time for God unless I needed to pray for help. I was that friend that only calls you when they need something.
My mother moved from California to North Carolina the day after my son was born and I followed to be near her 6 months later.
Since there were so many churches in my new community, I started checking them out. Many were not pleased with the girl with the baby outside of marriage and let me know I wasn't welcome. I settled on one just to stop church hopping, although they made it very clear that I could never be a member. They said my son could, though, so I kept going in the hope that he would at least be part of it when he was older if he chose.
I met a guy through that church who said he accepted me despite my obvious sin. I was so grateful at that point that I happily agreed to start dating. In July of 2001, we got married. I miscarried on September 18th, 2001 and that and 9/11 had me crying out to God and begging Him to give me another chance. I read my bible constantly and talked to my husband and mom about Jesus all the time. One time, in the car, I said "Guess what?" to him and he sighed and said "Its something about Jesus, isn't it?" My mom just argued with me about how all paths lead to God and asked me not to talk about it any more.
A year later, I had another boy. 2 years after that, a girl. 12 months and 14 days later, another girl. 10 months and l4 days later, my final boy. I had started homeschooling when my oldest was in 1st grade because I couldn't afford Christian school and he had learning struggles I didn't think the public school would help. As each new baby showed up, I just kept teaching and ended up homeschooling all of them.
My last child was born with a number of health issues. A bad heart valve, developmental delay, autism, and Tourette's, among other things. He is the sweetest kid even now and has expressed love for Jesus to the best of his ability.
Shortly after my last child was born, my husband and I started having problems. He took issue with me saying he needed his own relationship with Jesus and being born into a Christian family doesn't save you. Over a period of about 2 years, he went from saying he would try to saying he never loved me, never wanted to marry me, and refused counseling, couple or individual. I am sad to say I felt so defeated that I fell into depression and ultimately we divorced. The distance from God grew again, because I knew He hates divorce and felt terrible that we did it anyway. Some people in our church told me that my son's conditions were a punishment for getting divorced, that God knew ahead of time what would happen so he allowed it to happen before we were even having problems. I know that isn't true and my son is awesome anyway, but it still hurt to hear.
A few years later I married again, this time to a man who also loves the Lord, and returned to my previous eagerness to be closer to God. I gained 2 "bonus kids" that I also homeschooled through high school and the oldest 3 are now out in the world while we have 4 teenagers at home.
To this day, I struggle with whether our marriage is ok with God. I have repented of my previous failure, but I read different things from pastors saying either stay together and live for God from here on out, or separate from each other and be alone because otherwise it is continuing sin. We are taking the first route, but I still worry and pray about it.
My mother is now 86 and had a stroke a few years ago, leaving her unable to really speak or get around. She lived with us for a while until I could no longer handle her care, then moved to a nursing home near one of my sisters in another state. I have shared the Gospel with her repeatedly and before the stroke she was very hostile to it. Now she listens but shakes her head when I am done. I still pray that she will come to Him before it is too late. My dad wasn't saved and neither are any of my sisters. I hate to think about never seeing any of them again. I am the "crazy Christian" in the family, so they don't listen to me and we don't really have a relationship anymore. I just pray for them now.
We moved to Virginia in 2014 and while I love it here, we haven't found a church yet that preaches anything other than feel-good sermons about basically nothing. Because of my son's health issues and a recent open heart surgery, we haven't been attending in person since the churches reopened. I know we have some great preachers on this forum, so if anyone wants to send me a link to watch their sermons online, that would be great. I want to keep my family focused on Christ and it looks like online may be my only option.
Thanks for reading my novel!
Stormy, I loved reading your testimony 
