Redeemed

It occurs to me that most of you who read my blog only know the now me, and I thought you should know that my story is a tale of the overwhelming redemptive power of God. A tale through which a rejected him and he persued me, I rejected him and he persued me, on and on until his relentless persuit met with my weariness and I relented.  For the glory of God, I will give you a brief overview of who I was.

It all begins with my mother being a fix it person....My mother was attracted to my alcoholic father the way a gardener is attracted to a weed infested vacant field.  Certainly it may be a little unruly now, but with a bit of nurturing, the good can be brought out, and the bad reigned in, (a feature I inherited, by the way). In this particular case the weeds won out, and she divorced him when I was only eight months old.  He suggested giving me up for adoption, which she refused, and eventually settled for signing away his parental rights, in exchange for not having to pay child support.  My mother however, didn't want me growing up not knowing who my father was, and therefore he saw me anyway. My relationship with my father and lack thereof is a story unto itself, but I shall suffice it to say that after many attempts, I eventually, for boundry reasons concerning my children, severed relations with him.

My mother continued to be a fix it person, to the extent that my first memories of her are with her jaw wired shut, due to another unrelenting weed patch of a boyfriend, until she met my step dad when I was seven. When old enough to date, or not, really, I found myself attracted to much the same types, until, at 20, I finally found one who adored me, was nice to me, and was not (mostly) a substance addict. I married him. My step dad had raised me in the church, and taught me about God, but being intellectual and rebellious, I experimented with religion like some people experiment with drugs, leading me to amature paganism, and finally, as a singer, my sole obsession was to perfect my craft to success and fame.  In short, I was very selfish. 

I will spare you the twisted inner workings of how these factors interwove to inevitable destruction, and will sum up by saying that at age 23,  having lost my job as a tavern waitress, and having no money left to continue college, I left my husband for a biker who had a secret room where he grew pot.

 Yep, bet you didn't see that coming.

In a darkness I could not see my way out of, I agreed to come to Billings, as a last attempt to reconcile with my husband, but mostly, I suspect, to escape the person I had become, whom I loathed.

Through these times, God waited on me.  He sent people into my life who made his presence known, and yet I was not ready to believe.  I had many doubts on rational grounds, and also I understood that I would never have a sit in the pew and go through the motions sort of faith, that if I accepted what I began to suspect in my heart was true, it would be a radical, life altering change, for which I was not ready. 

He continued to send me the Holy Spirit in the form of people, books, and experiences, such that when I became pregnant with my first child, I felt pulled to return to church, where I experienced Christ like in no other church before, and where, finally, I would surrender to Jesus.

When I look at the prosperity and peace that surrounds the mundane of my daily life now, and the undeserved second chances and blessings I have been given, it is hard even to remember the darkness from which I came, the hopelessness I felt, the depth of the enslavement of sin from which he pulled me.

A beloved family member of mine who knows of the roads which I travelled recently remarked upon me as a woman of faith. He knew the miracle that was within that. Every one of us has a journey which makes our faith our own, and sharing them shows what an awesome God we serve. Perhaps you will think a little less of me for where I've been, but think more of my God, because he can transform the life of even the most miserable sinner.