Remember when you were a young teenager. Excited to be entered in to the "big kids" group. Nervous about all the changes. I am trying to think back to that time. To what I was thinking and feeling and how I acted. I was one of those kids who saved up my teen "moodiness" for my family to deal with. So for the most part, my church friends and teachers didn't see that much of that. My family on the other hand, had to deal with gloomy miss one day and enraged girl the other. Not sure what I was so angry about. There was a lot going on all at once. My father leaving at fourteen, my mother going to pieces daily, and my brothers being gone most of the time. My safe innocent world being suddenly frightening and unsafe. Like the first time your forced to dive in to the deep end of the smelling public swimming pool. I remember I used to feel safe in the woods behind my house until my neighbors told me not to go there anymore because some girl had been raped or murdered back there. Not sure which. It sounds pretty morbid I know. At the end though, where did that leave me to go. My Mom was falling to pieces in the house, couldn't be safe outside, and my best friend's house wasn't safe anymore. I went to church every chance I got. Needless to say I liked being there. I liked going to see the Nursing Home as long as the crazy lady didn't grab onto me. I liked singing in the teen choir. It was fun going out after church with friends for Ice Cream or snacks on Sunday nights. Those are good memories. That was my fun inside the storm so to speak.
Now I'm leading a small bunch of teens often thrown together with these reluctant moody ones wondering how on earth do I get through to them. I don't know what it's like to be forced to participate in this or that because my parents didn't really care what I was doing. If they had maybe my story would be different. Less sad maybe. But the truth is they didn't. They didn't care. They thought their job was being done. These teens have parents who see beyond feeding and clothing their children. They do care where their children are and want them at church serving the Lord. For my part I just want to shake em and tell them to wake up. They so don't get it. And will they even in time before they mess up there lives trying to prove how mature they are.
That's my rant for today. For what it's worth today I am blessed and my God is ever Faithful.
As a kid I watched my parents fight about different things. I don't really have any other parents to compare them to so I can't really say whether they were normal fights couples have or not. I couldn't even say what most of them were about except the ones that were about me. We only ate as a family on holidays. My father came home late so we kids ate without him. I do remember spending time with him in the evening before I went to bed so it couldn't have been that late. My own husband gets home a little later because of his job commute so we eat late every night. But home schooling has given us the ability to be more flexible than my Mom was able to be. We had school early the next day. As I got older, I remember my Father being home less and less and the fights seemed to intensify. I remember one night when I was thirteen. I could hear them yelling through the wall. My mom found me crying and I told her I didn't want them to get a divorce. She told me...
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