Tuesday, July 26, 2011

What are you searching for?

In this life, we are constantly on a search.. although we may not recognize it as such. Sometimes it is an emptiness that we try to drive away. We search for methods to do that. For me, it was a subconcious search. All I knew was that I felt empty. I felt unwhole. Long before I tried to fill this void with pills.. I chose other paths that so many of us decide to go down.

At the time, I didn't recognize the emotion I was feeling as "emptiness". All I knew was that no matter what I did... I couldn't find complete happiness. It wasn't due to anyone or anything... This was strictly an enternal struggle I was dealing with. For some reason, unbeknowngst to me... I had a longing..  but I didn't know what I was longing for.

Growing up... I moved from town to town. We never stayed in one place for long. After thinking back to when I was young, I finally realized that I had moved a total of 9 times from the time I was 5 until I was 11. That doesnt give a young girl very good roots, I don't think.

We would eventually settle down in Bethel after my mom married Tommy and we made the sleepy little town our home.

But I guess you can say that it became familiar to always have something new and exciting going on. Eventually the moving from place to place would lose it's luster..and I found myself at 9 years old with no friends to call my own. I was always switching schools and was forever known as "the new girl".  To this day, I still have horrible memories of my elementary and middle school days. It was a rough and unkind time for me.. I would retreat within myself and hold on to the loneliness that had become the only friend I would have for a while. I spent my time with animals.. They were kind.. they never said mean or hurtful things. But most importantly, they never let you down. Never in my life, do I ever remember a dog telling me that he would be at my dance recital and then never show up... So as far as I believed, people couldn't be trusted. They would make false promises and empty guarantees. This takes me back to a time when I was 6 years old. It is one of the few memories I have with my biological father... We were at a grocery store in Jacksonville, NC, a place that I called home for a little while. I remember walking in with him and being like any 6 year old girl.. I instantly fell in love with a doll that was sitting in a shiny pink box by the door. I begged and pleaded for my father to buy me this doll for my birthday. After all, he had forgotten about the doll he had promised at Christmas.. but like so many other times, it went unattended.  He did like many parents often do and told me that if I behaved that he would purchase the doll on our way out. I believed him. I did my very best to stay quiet and to stay out of his way.. When he asked me to get something off the shelf, I quickly helped. Trying to be the most well behaved little girl I could be.

We came to the end of the check out line and there she was, the beautiful brown haired doll that I had been promised. I gently nudged my father's arms and quietly reminded him that he promised that if I behaved, the doll would be my birthday present.  However, I will never forget his response... It would be one that would forever change my view of people as I would go through life. 

He looked down at me and simply said " Deann, only Jesus keeps his promises"....

That was all it took... At 6 years old, I instantly learned that no matter what anyone told you... more than likely they would let you down. I was an impressionable child. Young and trusting... I had been let down by a person that was supposed to be someone I could depend on. Yes, to some this may seem like just a story about a little girl who didn't get what she wanted... but to me, it symbolized much more than that.

I don't tell this story as a bleeding heart... I tell it to offer insight to where I was coming from mentally and emotionally. Bouncing around from place to place... never growing roots, never settling down. And always wondering when someone was going to hurt me next.  Of course there were other men in my life... not just my biological father, that would teach me distrust. As a single mother and woman, my mother dated occasionally. There was one particular boyfriend that I remember being very kind and very caring... I will always be thankful to him for showing me the ways of a good man before Tommy came along.  However, there were men that weren't so kind. Some drank and drank heavily. Others had anger problems.

My mother worked long hours.. Trying to support herself and her daughter on her own wasn't an easy task. Many nights I spent alone..  Being young and scared on the inside, but acting brave and tough on the outside.  I learned to take care of myself, make sure I had dinner, and go to bed... All by the age of 9.

Part of my need to act self sufficient and strong came from those moments when I was weak... and how I felt that those weaknesses caused me damage.  One particular memory comes to mind. I was 8 years old and living in Arlington Square in Greenville.  It would be another night that my mother would be working late and that I would have to fend for myself.  Her boyfriend, at the time, was staying with us. He always intimidated me.. He had dark hair and a mustache and always seemed quick to anger. I learned early on to stay out of his way and to not bother him too much. That night, I was hungry. The peanut butter and jelly was gone... and all of the yogurt had been eaten.  There was nothing else in the house that I could prepare on my own. After all, I was not allowed to use the stove without help.  I remember walking into the living room where he was watching TV. I stood there for a minute, scared to ask him for help.. I didn't want to bother him. Finally, I gathered up the courage to ask him if he would help me make a grilled cheese sandwhich... He didn't acknowledge my question. I thought maybe he had not heard me... the TV was loud.. So, I walked a little closer to the chair and repeated my request.

The next thing I remember is the sharp sting of the back of his hand across my face. My vision went blurry for a few seconds and I toppled down to the floor. I quickly crawled onto my hands and knees to get up to run to my room. But I could not move fast enough. Before my little feet could hit the first step, I felt myself being lifted off of the ground by the back of my shirt. It was then that I heard the thud of my head against a wall and the pungent smell of alcohol of his breath. He leaned into my ear, calling me an "aggravating little bitch". I started to cry and apologize over and over for bothering him. I promised that next time I would leave him alone... if he would only let me go to my room. He let go of my collar and I ran up the stairs and into my room... Where I grabbed my little bunny and sat in the closet with my eyes closed tight. Just wishing I could move away... I had the plan mapped out in my mind. I would pack my suitcase in the morning and move to Memama and Grandaddy's house... I was safe there... they used kind words and gave hugs and kisses. There, I was free to be a little girl. But that night, in that closet... I swore to myself that I would never ask him for help again.. that anything I needed. I could do myself...

Little did I know how much this would affect me as I got older. 

I would turn into someone that never could or would ask for help... Always taking care of myself. The emptiness that I felt inside was a secret I kept.. I thought to myself.. If only I had a "real family", I would be happy... but Tommy came along.. and as much as he loved me more than ANY MAN ever had before and as much as he completed my picturesque image of a family.. I still felt like I just didn't fit in.. No matter where I went, or who I was with. I felt alone.. Even in a room full of people.

Over the years I would try to fill this emptiness with material things... Clothes... Money... Status... These things would provide only temporary fulfillment. Then the familiar pain of emptiness would come back again. I just could not put my finger on it.... What was I missing? What did I need?

It has taken me years to realize what I was ultimately searching for... and it hasnt been until recently that I think i'm finally starting to get a grasp on what my whole life has been missing....... a true relationship with God.

It took me years of trying to run my own life and trying to fulfill my own destiny to realize that maybe I havent been doing the best job. Time after time of tearing my soul apart with "fillers"... I finally hit my knees in desperation.

I will never forget the April Sunday morning that I walked down to the alter at church... Accompanied by two friends... I walked before the congregation and I hit my knees. Tears flowed from my face and at that moment... I gave up, I gave in... and I gave it to God. 

And in that same moment.... my heart began to be fulfilled.. bit by bit. Moment by moment... The unconditional love I had always longed for was being freely given to me. Starting with the forgiveness from our Heavenly Father that I felt so undeserving of.

I remember looking down into my folded hands and watching my tears roll down my fingers... It was in that instant that I felt a calming peacefulness start in my toes and move up through my body....

I knew, then and there, that Jesus had finally entered my heart.

He had been waiting all along for me to find him.... He wasn't hiding... I just had never searched in the right place before.

Until Now.

1 comment:

  1. Everyone has a story. There's always someone that is much worse off than you are. You would be wise to remember that.

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