Picket Fences and Rainbows

Meeting up with friends recently threw me into a particularly nostalgic mood. As is the usual case with this mind God gave me, that brings up both good and bad memories.

I'm very thankful for long time friends. God uses our shared experiences to remind us of His faithfulness during the difficult times, and His provision during the lean times. Sweet fellowship, tears, shared blessings and burdens renew our spirits for the journey ahead, and remind us of our purpose to serve Christ. These memories, precious and rare, are gifts.

And then, when the warmth of that sweet fellowship begins to fade, my mind (bless its heart) goes meandering down some of the darker paths in my past. But I've learned that those darker memories sometimes can also be a blessing in a different way.

Growing up in a very fundamental background, I followed the rules. I was the good girl. The example. The one church leaders pointed to and said "Ask her to help, she'll be glad to do whatever."

And they were right. I was dependable, hard-working, smart, and willing. I kept the nursery. I taught Sunday School. I sang solos when asked. I dressed modestly (no pants and always hose). I acted appropriately. Blushed accordingly, and I obeyed my parents, and respected my elders. My dad was a deacon, and church pianist. My mom taught Sunday school, and spoke in ladies's fellowship groups. In other words, we were a very good, church-going family. Indeed, we had two churches get their start in our living room.

I was saved at an early age. I am sure of that. God gave me assurance early and that has never been much of a personal struggle. My struggles come from a misperception rooted early in my life. The misperception that if I were the "good, go-to, I'll get right on that and work myself to death girl" that everything in life would turn out correctly. My spouse would be the love of my life. My children would be perfect and serve the Lord, and life will be easy-peasy, white picket fences, and rainbows.

All those high school chapel sermons said as much. If we did as we were told, and the guys grew to lead their homes, and the gals learned to submit to the guys, then God would bless us with sweet, obedient children and a Heaven on earth existence. Those families with problems like divorce, and drinking, and wayward children? They blew it badly somewhere, strayed and God had withdrawn His blessing. And we all knew that was pretty much the end of the world. One terrible thing, and that was it. Wasting away in the sea of sin until finally rescued by death or The Rapture, just barely saved by the skin of their teeth.

So, I went to weekend camps, threw my stick in the fire, and wept and prayed. I was always going to the altar at church to confess yet another weakness. And frankly, I felt being a Christian was really, really hard. Nevertheless, I continued on to attend a Christian University, and the teaching there was a little deeper, but the main point was the same. Do right, and life will be good. I followed the path set before me. Broke up with the guy that my parents didn't like, and married the guy that they did like. What in the world could go wrong?

In the next post, I'll continue down some of the dark paths of my memory, but not to worry, there are a few rainbows ahead.

Looking back to learn how to go forward,
Teapotjan