Growing Up

Well. 2020 is proving to be more exciting than 2019. And I'm not talking about my Disneyland trip in February with my parents. Although, I also went to Universal Studios and rode the new Jurassic Park ride.

I'm most definitely talking about Covid_19 and all the joys of isolating. Honestly, not much changed for me. I'm a SAHM...at home anyways. Plus, Little Bit home schools. No difference there! It was hard not seeing the grands; Idaho has since "re-opened" so I've seen and snuggled all FOUR! In a couple short weeks, we open the fireworks booth. For the first few months lasting forever, time seems to be moving quicker now!

I've had a lot of time to reflect and think. Which took me back to my childhood.

I grew up poor. We lived outside a small town. Our water was from a natural spring, we didn't have central heat and my dad hunted for our food (I WON'T eat game now). We owned a pizza place in the small town. I either worked, watched my younger sister or went out with a myriad of boys. The thing is, I didn't realize we were poor until we got a food box. My mom was very creative at Christmas...once she wrapped every present (not many) and put them in a larger wrapped box. I always knew my clothes weren't quite right, we shopped at Goodwill (that's so popular now! I still struggle with it) and didn't have much money for extras. I never had name brand clothes...but boy, did I want them! In the 80's, it was all about those names! (and, sometimes, it STILL is! Judging people by the name on clothing or accessories...tsk, tsk.) It just never clicked that we were poor.

I was always looking for a way out. Someone to "save" me, to love me, to carry the weight of all my sorrow. I hated that small town. And, honestly, I've never been back since 1990. I cringe inside myself when I think of going back there. I honestly believed if I got married, everything would change. I ended up pregnant at 17 and married at the same age. Funnily enough, we had actually left that small town when I was 16. Who knew?

At 47, I see things so much differently. Not about the town or how I feel about growing up there. I see MYSELF differently. I see how I didn't NEED someone to complete me because God already did. We put so many expectations in humans. We want them to fill voids, to be a rescuer, to provide security. Yet...while they may be able to do those things SOME of the time...they just really can't. Please don't misunderstand: I'm not sorry I got pregnant at 17. I'm not sorry I wrote the love stories that resulted in ANY of our children. I firmly believe He created them on purpose for HIS purpose!

If I could tell my young self anything, it would be this: He loves you. He is for you. You are WORTHY! REST.

We aren't wealthy by any means. We've worked hard to pay off debt, we've utilized food stamps and medicaid. We've also worked very hard to instill in our girls that the name on your clothes isn't what makes you worthy. I've been very blessed to be able to go to my "happy place" quite often...what people don't know is that those trips are often gifted! Really, though, it isn't anyone's business.

We all have stories. We all come from somewhere. Tell me yours.



God sees you. God is for you. God loves you. You are worthy. REST.