I was born on Long Island and grew up in a Catholic family. Sometimes we would go to Mass on Sundays and I attended Religion classes, which was required before completing each sacrament. While at church, I felt a sense of peace but life at home was a very different experience.
In my home, there was a lot of yelling, anger and abuse (both physically and verbally). My older siblings often tell me they had it the hardest, and although that's true, I still experienced things a child shouldn't have to. I'll add, I do have good memories of those days, too. I knew my father tried but through alcoholism and a lot of unhealed trauma, he was who he was. I remember one night, as I'm laying in bed trying to sleep - I could hear my parents fighting on the other side of my closed bedroom door. Finally, things became quiet, which meant my father had finally fallen asleep. On this particular night, my mother quietly came into my room and sat at my desk. Maybe she thought I was asleep, but I could hear her crying and now I'm certain she was praying. When she heard I was awake she came over to me, sat on the side of my bed and squeezed me gently and said, "Don't worry, Jesus is going to take care of us."
I'll never forget those words. In fact, throughout life, no matter what I was facing that sentence always came to mind.
As I grew up, things seemed to have moved to a better direction as my father realized how he was affecting the family. His actions have been forgiven but those earlier days of life continued to take a toll on my emotions and how I looked at myself. Then, as I entered junior high and turned 13 my mother allowed me to wear makeup and said I could start hanging out with my friends at the mall and movies without adult supervision. Having that little sense of independence was wonderful and made me feel like I was beginning to relate to my older siblings. I made new friends and things were looking up. Then, after my grandparents moved to Pennsylvania, my parents decided to put the house up for sale and follow. The house sold quickly and that summer we were packed up and off to a new life. A new life without my siblings, since they were all adults and able to be on their own. A new life without my friends. Without most of my family. Just me, my parents and my grandparents. It was difficult.
Lancaster, Pennsylvania was a place I had only ever known for their Amish and farm life. I quickly discovered it was more than that. It was people who pronounced words weird (like Lancaster - "Lan-kus-ter") but they looked at me as if I was the weird one for my New York accent. I managed to make a few friends rather easily but one turned into someone who would go on to being more like an archnemesis until she dropped out of school in 10th grade (whew). By 9th grade I was feeling more and more depressed and unwilling to go another day. I felt as though there was no point in living. With billions of people in this world what impact was I making, anyway? Who would miss me? Life would still go on even if I'm not here. The mental pain is just too unbearable. I sat on my bed with a knife to the wrist and attempted to do what I thought would work. It didn't. When word got out, I was sent to treatment and was put on anti-depressant medication.
Still, life went on even though I didn't want it to. My parents kept silent on what was going on with me. I kept silent, also. My friends introduced me to weed and I began smoking it on occasion. Whatever numbed the pain. But when the high wore down, there I was back to the depression. I quickly learned weed wasn't the answer and that was, thankfully, something I didn't addict myself to.
During my days in high school I kept having this feeling of not making it to 19 years old. I'm not sure why or how it would happen, but I could not see myself getting passed 19 and so, I didn't bother focusing too much on my future. Hold that thought for a moment ...
Then, after a long and brutal experience of high school I finally graduated. I went off to community college for a semester but made some bad choices and ended up failing. That's one of the several things I don't like to admit to. Then, seeing how disappointed my father was and knowing I could do better, I enrolled in business school. Best decision of my life for quite a few reasons.
My time in those two years of business school were amazing. I loved the classes but I also enjoyed the friendships made there. One was the man I married several years later. He and a few other girls at school were very devoted to their faith and their joy and contentment made me yearn to learn more. My friend Adrienne was someone I grew close to at the time and I began hanging out with her outside of school, getting to know her loving family and met her cousin Carol and Carol's husband Dennis. At the time, Dennis was studying to be a minister and the two ran a young adult group called Koinonia. At Koinonia I heard the Gospel being shared and learned what it truly meant to be a Christian. As someone who always thought Heaven was for "all good people" and free will meant we could do as we wish with no consequences, I learned that was not true. I learned so much about Jesus in a way I did not know before and the importance of giving my life for Him, repenting and turning from anything that did not glorify Him. My curiosity grew more but one day as I reached for the Bible that sat on the coffee table my mother quickly scolded me and said, "No! That Bible was blessed by the bishop and we don't touch that." Shortly after, when I was attending church with Adrienne her pastor came over to me and handed me a New International Version Bible and said, "Here, I want you to have this."
One evening as I was sitting on my bed reading through the Bible I came across a verse in Psalm 27:1 that stuck out to me. "The Lord is the strength of my life" After suffering with mental health and believing I was not worthy to live, I could hear the Holy Spirit telling me through that verse that He was the only way I was going to get strength to go on. In that moment, I dropped to my knees and cried out to God asking Him into my heart. I had always believed but this was something I had never done before. I asked him for forgiveness and promised to live my life for Him. That was in June of 1998 when I was 19 years old (I guess my feelings had been right during my time in high school. In some way, at the age of 19 I was going to die. My old way of thinking died that day).
I continued to attend Koinonia and other churches with friends. I could feel the Holy Spirit slowly leading me away from the Catholic church, although that official decision didn't come until Rob and I were engaged. I spent a lot of time studying the Word and learning about the Gospel but I was stuck on the "rules" that made me a Christian. I could tell my family was getting annoyed as I mentioned what was right and wrong. Later, I learned that it wasn't so much the rules of religion that mattered as much as the relationship with Jesus did. I don't follow those rules because I have to, I follow because I want to. All because of what Jesus did for me on the cross.
Even in my walk with Jesus, I have often failed. I have made decisions and had thoughts that were not glorifying to Him. I still have moments when I react in an ungodly way. The enemy always tries to creep up and tell me I'm still not worthy and tries to steal my joy, reminding me that I have depression. It's in those moments when I remind him who God is and that I am a child of the King. When things become difficult, and they often do, I am able to now feel joy and contentment through it all, keeping my eyes on the Lord instead of the world around me.
There was a time when I felt there was no purpose in my life. I didn't believe I belonged here. Then, after truly dedicating myself to Christ I realized that God doesn't make mistakes. My parents may have brought me into the world but God breathed life into me and because He wanted me here then I most certainly do belong here. If you feel as though you have no purpose or belonging then please know that God doesn't ever make mistakes and He did not make a mistake with you. You have a purpose, even if you don't see what that is now. You belong here. I'm so, so glad you are alive!
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