Saturday, April 10, 2010

Let me first apologize for the few glitches in the appearance of my blog.... much like myself, it is a work in progress. Of course I wanted it to look perfect before posting my first blog but when I saw the Women of Faith Wednesday topic "If you could become a Women of Faith speaker, what would you talk about?" I decided that God probably wanted me to approach this blog the way I have approached my life as of late; stop waiting for things to be perfect before moving on and have faith that what I have to share is more important than how I... (or my blog) looks while sharing it.

So.... to further prove that this blog isn't the epitome of perfection I would like it to be prior to posting my first entry; it's Saturday and I am writing for Women of Faith Wednesday. Case and point.

I digress.... back to the topic at hand. "If you could be a Women of Faith speaker, what would you talk about?" The list of what I wouldn't talk about would be much shorter because, since God has been a factor in my life, He pretty much puts me out there everyday; talking to anyone about anything that leads to my testimony and what He has done for me and through me...if they'll listen, and even then - they don't have to listen for long.

My story is definitely one of the Prodigal Daughter and has only recently been realized...and embraced. I left home at 17, having graduated high school early, started college, and then enlisting in the Army to sow my wild oats; all to get away from a town in California that was only five miles square; vowing never to return...at least not for more than a long weekend.

My colorful life started straight out of the gate. I loved the freedom I had and the attention I received when I went into the Army and even though I missed home it was not something I allowed myself to think about much. After getting proposed to four times before turning 19, I thought I better say "yes" soon or the offers would stop coming. I did. I married a guy that I thought would be the one for me without my parents approval. (Who did they know was right for me anyway...right?) I remember using a military pay phone to call home and tell my mom that I was pregnant and going to marry the father, the man of my dreams; then she put dad on the phone. It was all a series of downhill disappointments from there.

We moved to Wisconsin, married and had three incredible daughters, one year after another before I was 23 and I still knew what was best....until I turned 30. I was diagnosed with breast cancer and it was a pretty scary event and would have been with the support of friends and family...but I had turned away from that years before and went through those trials on my own. My husband said he "couldn't handle it" and thought he was doing me a favor when he dropped me off at the hospital entry for chemo and drove away...telling me if I needed to, I could call him for a ride. Much like that Prodigal Son I found myself wallowing in a pig sty wishing I had what those around me had. Where he thought the slop fed to the pigs looked good, I even thought that sitting with a husband that "couldn't handle it" would be better than being alone; knowing that others going through chemo felt sorry for me.

I survived breast cancer and decided that he was not the husband for me. I survived and vowed to divorce him and start over with my three daughters in tow. Much like the girl in high school that always seem to have a boyfriend and never be single...it was not long before I met the man to rescue me from my pity party. He was a DJ and lived what appeared to be just the lifestyle I now felt entitled to. We packed our luggage and some new furniture in a moving truck and changed our address to one in Maryland....long story. My new husband had drama with an ex-wife and kids but we knew we were meant for each other and we were going to make it work. Our life was one others were jealous of. He played softball two nights a week after work and the girls and I trudged to every game and hit the restaurants and bars afterwards with the team. Three other nights during the week/weekend, we would get a sitter and tour different Happy Hours or be at DJ gigs he had lined up. We were very social and very likeable. I thought life couldn't get better. I was now out of the pig sty and in a different world that I invented and made those around me conform to. Mom and dad still weren't very happy with my choices but they didn't even know I had cancer and went through what I did so it's fair to say they weren't going to be any happier knowing the places I was dragging my girls to or what we were doing when they weren't with us.

On a whim, we changed our address to Wisconsin so the girls could see their dad more often; and that is where my downward spiral truly began. It was now about 9 years since I had seen my family and I am sure they still weren't happy with my decisions but they were less vocal about my disappointments. I was sugar coating everything and it was easy to do over the phone, never being challenged. (I know now they never bought into anything I said, but allowed me to dig my own pit that took me a LONG time to get out of).

My drinking and gambling had gotten out of control. I was a mess and no one was calling me out on it. The DJ business was going great and my girls were now at their dad's every weekend. It was one long party from Thursday night through Sunday afternoon. Church? God? Who's that? I blamed Him for alot and walked away from any relationship I thought I could have with Him when I got cancer at 30 with three little girls. (Okay, maybe that was just an excuse but it worked for me). God and I were like high school classmates at a reunion; we knew who each other were, but we weren't seeking each other out. I now know that he never left but it was me that ignored all of the opportunities he tried to give to me.

On November 21, 2005. I received my first DUI. (Yep, there is more than one) I was part of the regional version of "The Biggest Loser" and the competition had ended. Our team didn't win but all of the teams met at a bar that my husband was DJing at. We hadn't drank in 10 weeks but I went right back to my old ways not thinking that I had zero tolerance after my weight loss hiatus. Oops.... I drank entirely too much (but looked good doing it...after the competition) so I felt more enabled than I had in a long time. The evening ended at 2am, Thanksgiving morning; I got behind the wheel and attempted to drive home. God was definitely with me, I only wish I had realized it then. The next thing I knew, I was waking up with my face covered in blood and trying to lift my head from the steering wheel on the freeway. I had passed out going 70mph and hit the cement median. The front driver's side tire was flattened and pushed into the cab of my SUV; I was pinned between the median and the steering wheel. When I awoke my first thoughts weren't of trouble or even worry for myself or my husband but to the blood on my new Donna Karan sweater that I had just bought for the event that afternoon. (A drunk girl and her priorities, huh?) Everything went away with money. I paid the fines, went to the classes, I didn't serve any time in jail, and no one knew about my error in judgement. I told people that my tire blew out and that is how I totalled my car and why I now sported the Harry Potter lightning bolt scar on my forehead. (I wore hats and bangs for a year)

Fast forward three years; our address is now in Michigan and my oldest daughter stayed behind in her own apartment in Wisconsin. We are gambling alot more since we have access to several casinos and even took a trip to Vegas for a week. We are still living the DJ lifestyle and are out even more nights during the week; justified that it was okay since the girls were old enough to take care of themselves. My middle daughter, 18, was living in the dorms at college and my youngest at 17 spent alot of her time there...to get out of the house. I let her because it meant that I had even more freedom to drink at home before or after the bar.

It is November 22, 2008 and...you guessed it; DUI #2. This time I was so brazen that when the officer pulled me over for speeding after leaving my husband's gig and then asked me to do a breathalyzer test, I wholeheartedly agreed. My tolerance level and my entitlement grew so much that I thought I was more than okay and would be apologized to before handing me a speeding ticket; thank God I was wrong. That night changed my life. The legal limit in the state of Michigan is .08 and despite having a coherent conversation with the arresting officer, and passing the "walk the line" test, I failed the breathalyzer test miserably, blowing a .24. Same husband, same lifestyle, different state, different results. Big trouble. Again being entitled, I managed to stay out of jail but not out of the courts. I used to think I was lucky...how I kept getting away from things that others had faced harsh realities for but my thoughts are definitely different now. I finally got it.

I found an attorney that just happened to be well liked and respected by everyone at the courthouse my case was filed with. I was accepted into a Sobriety Court program that only accepts three DUIs or more; a requirement I didn't meet. I had the most amazing woman as my probation officer and not some begruntled sweaty guy that is named Louie that talked with a Brooklyn accent or reeked of smoke. With all of things happening around me... it donned on me, I had a problem.

I got sober. Not because I thought I needed to, even after two DUIs, but because it was part of Sobriety Court. I went to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and thought I could just walk in, get my Twelve Steps, graduate and be on my way to a better life. God is mentioned in half of those steps and I thought "I'm in big trouble". I couldn't even say the "Serenity Prayer" at the beginning of each meeting because I just couldn't believe. "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Me? Accept something that I can't control? Nope... I am the one that worries five steps ahead about things that happened ten steps back. I'm in trouble.

But...somewhere along the line, I wanted more. I was becoming a better person that just happened to be sober. A.A. helped me realize I truly was an alcoholic and that I NEEDED a relationship with God. I had to admit that I couldn't take any of the credit for what was happening to me. I was finally coming around to the fact that God was to thank for that DUI that night. He was to thank for bringing me the attorney I found and the program that he got me into. I had an opportunity to turn my life around and I knew that it wasn't going to happen the way I was living. There had to be major changes or I was going to continue to move around but bringing the same "party" with me regardless of the address.

The DJ lifestyle was not for me and I couldn't continue trying to be that person with that husband and remain sober. The DJ wasn't a bad guy. He was great to me but to the point of enabling me to become the person I was. I didn't know who I was going to be without drinking or feeling the rush of gambling and doing everything to excess but I knew it wasn't going to be long before it would be too late. As much as I didn't want to admit that I had to get, yet another divorce, there was no other option for me. He didn't want to change or felt he had to and I knew that my survival depended on it. At 40, I was divorced for a second time, only had one daughter out of three that was talking to me and was struggling with what to do with my life. And that wasn't the end of it.

Yes....still like the girl in high school, it wasn't long before I came to rely on a friend to drive me to work and back (having lost my license for a year with the 2nd DUI). He was a friend that became more than a friend quickly and I am happy to say is now my third and FINAL husband. He has stuck it out with me through ALL that I have been through and we even accepted Christ just a week apart. (Amazing stories in themselves). And God's involvement in my life does not stop there. Here is the doozy part.....

wait for it....

About four months before we were married, my husband to be asked me if everything was okay because I had been distant for a couple of weeks. I told him "No, it's not. There is something I need to tell you. It is something so bad that I want to let you know; if you decide that you can't be with me and no longer want to marry me, I will understand." Needless to say, his skin turned whiter than his t-shirt and he prepared for the worst. It was the longest two minutes I have ever experienced as I looked everywhere but in his face as I began. "As you know... I'm pretty educated and several of my degrees were funded by my tribe." (My family is Native American and they support our education). He looked at me but said nothing....waiting for the other shoe to drop. (Size 14 work boot is more like it). I continued; "Well, after I was finished with my schooling, I continued to get checks from them made out to me, and rather than take more classes or tell them that I was finished, I used the money for personal use. My gambling and drinking had gotten out of control and I had to do something to maintain the style of living that my family had been used to." He continued to look at me, waiting to see what was coming next... but said nothing. Between the tears and shaking as he reached for my hands, I blurted it out "I am being charged with a felony of Grand Theft of Personal Property of more than $100,000 and I am supposed to be in court one week from today in California."

It was quiet. He let go of my hand and asked me to explain. I went into detail and told him that I had received a subpoena weeks before but thought I could ignore it. I was scared to death and as it got closer to the court date, I was more and more worried about every police car that passed by or strange cars parked in the neighborhood. I couldn't take it anymore. When he finally spoke, he said "I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this." He was calm and he took control. He told me we would talk to my probation officer and then to my parents. It was going to be resolved that day and we were going to face it together. Back to the Prodigal Son reference: (Scene 2) Prodigal Son wallowing in the pig sty, can't figure out how or when things got so bad. He's tired of trying to live there, knowing what he left behind. What he once thought was small and simple minded now looked to be the best situation for him. He would rather live as one of his Father's slaves than be where he is now. Here I am... in my pig sty, not having spoken to my family in over a year, even on the phone...and I have to call home. I have to tell them the position I have found myself in and how I have ruined our family name (my grandmother was an elder in the tribe before she died). I kept waiting for my life to get closer to perfect before calling home and the more I waited, the worse it got.

But this is where it gets good. I called home and even though my mom hadn't heard from me in a while, by letter or phone, she said that we would get through it. She was calm and said she forgave me. Within minutes she had calmed me down enough that I could phone my probation officer and humble myself before her; she had phoned my father and told him what I had done and they were welcoming be back anyway. I told her about the DUIs and the divorce and my two oldest not speaking with me and with each breath and sob that escaped as I emptied my heart over that phone; she forgave me and welcomed me home. She gave me comfort where I thought there wouldn't be any. She gave me a gift that I didn't earn and I didn't deserve. A gift I have come to learn is Grace.

Since that afternoon, alot has happened; the greatest of those is accepting Christ in my heart. My mom is my best friend and we talk every day on the phone, if not two or three times. I am married to my FINAL husband. I belong to an amazing church. I am being useful in countless ways and God continues to show me more of my purpose with each prayer.

What would I talk about if I were a Women of Faith speaker? I would share what it's like to be the Prodigal Daughter. The parents that were there with open arms and the sisters that welcomed her back with more love than is deserved. (Thankfully my story is not JUST like the parable). I would talk about being given the gift of time and making the best of that gift every single day. I would talk about how I am going to jail in two months to serve six months time and how God will be with me every step of the way. I used to think that I couldn't be as good as my sisters since they still live in the same small town we grew up in, have always had a relationship with my parents, and have loved God. But you know what.... I realize that I am so much better broken than I would have been if I had been born perfect. God has a purpose for me and the only way to serve that purpose is through jail. There is someone there for me to reach or that will reach me and when I come out.... I will be telling this story to anyone that will listen.

This is a long blog...and it is my first. But this is just a piece of my story with the very best ending.

"Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him.' James 1:12

I am persevering under trial, I am nearly through to my test, and I am hoping that a blinged out tiara will be mine for the taking because I promise.... I love Him

Feel free to visit my website where I will be selling Scripture Sleeves. (Like this blog...it is a work in progress but super excited about how things are coming along).

http://www.watercolorministries.com/

God Bless you Bunches.... see you for my next entry SOON.