I’ve always been the rebellious one in my family…the black sheep so to speak. No one ever set a single boundary for me, as a child, and in essence I grew up getting my way on EVERYTHING. I would pout for HOURS until I obtained whatever it was I was after. I constantly refused to do things just to be difficult, and prove no one could make me do anything I, myself, didn’t want to do. Because the adults in my life didn’t know how to handle a child of such defiance I was given whatever I wanted just to get me to behave. Well I don’t have to tell you that it basically turned me into a self-entitled little brat! This unfortunately carried into my adult years…FUN!
Now, to my credit, I graduated high school in 3 years due to taking college courses (out of pure boredom and not wanting to be home) with my then, highschool boyfriend. I only took these classes so my boyfriend and I could spend time together. I had no idea that at the beginning of my junior year of high school my counselor would tell me that I had the opportunity to graduate that year. Due to taking college classes such as math and english I was eligible for early graduation. I accepted that offer at the drop of the hat. I HATED high school and wanted nothing more than to be done. I graduated from highschool and started my life at 17. I proceeded to move out almost immediately; I worked 2-3 jobs during this time just to make ends meet. I may have never had discipline growing up, but we were poor. So I didn’t have a singe person I could call and ask for help from. Looking back, I’m glad I didn;t have anyone, but at the time I TOTALLY wished I did. Having no one to rely on made me work a million times harder since I had an apartment to pay for, power, phone (like old school, plug-into-the-wall type phone). I pretty much had to bike everywhere or occasionally get a ride from my mom. I was finally able to afford to by a cheap car. I think I paid $1000 for it and made the guy $100 payments for 10 months; it was a 1985 UGLY brown Chevy Chevette. While it might have been ugly, that car traipsed me and my close friend all over the place. I lived in Crescent City, CA back then (my mom moved us there when I was 12). I have no clue why my mom would move us to such desolate, horrible place, where pretty much everyone was mean…especially the kids. Oh yes, she wanted to live near the OCEAN! She couldn’t have moved us to MALIBU? OK, rabbit trail….sorry, I do that all the time…
I got out of Crescent Shitty…*cough, cough* I mean Crescent City when I was 21. I moved 3 hours north to a valley in Oregon. It is beautiful here in Southern Oregon. I got pregnant with Taylor pretty quick, because agin, I had no boundaries. Looking back this is probably comes from being molested when I was 12, but that’s an entire OTHER story that I do not feel like discussing tonight. Anyway, needless to say pregnancy was quite the shock. Keep in mind for later, that the day I found out I was prego, was the first time I had laid foot in a church in YEARS. I don’t remember what the service was about, but I do know my roommate talked me into going to church with her and her friend that morning. I got sick eating pizza at the mall after church and I immediately knew something was wrong. I had the immediate feeling that I was pregnant, and I was right. I was freaking out about how I would provide for a child on $$6.95 an hour. I had no idea what I should do. I went back and forth about my options, and at one point decided I would keep it and then later had a FREAK OUT and decided to get a late-term abortion. I was 4 1/2 months pregnant, and I scheduled the procedure for the following week. I just couldn’t be a mom, I could barely take care of myself. At that time I pretty much knew nothing about God. I owe the credit of my son’s entire existence to a local pastor. It was just about closing time when this man came through my line. Our exchange went as follows:
Pastor: “Good evening young lady, how are you tonight?” (He did introduce himself as a local pastor of a church in my area).
Me: “Fine” (in my head thinking, “please don’t make small talk, I’m not in the mood dude”)
Pastor: I rarely get the inclination to do something like this, but I want you to know that God wants me to deliver a very important message to you.”
Me: *thinking dude, your crazy* But also a bit awe-struck and curious…I had no idea that what he was about to say would change my life forever.
Pastor: God knows that you are going through something extremely difficult and wants you to know that he wants you to do what HE would want you to do.”
Me: With tears in my eyes and completely dumbfounded as my chin I’m pretty sure hit the floor, I said, “I’m sorry, WHAT?”
Pastor: May I pray with you?”
Pastor: Dear heavenly Father, I pray that you pour your wisdom into this young lady so that she will honor you.” (Short and sweet)
Me: (tears now abundantly clear) I whisper… “thank you”
Pastor; young lady, things will be ok, just listen to God.”
And just like that he walked away….
I went home that night and prayed for, pretty much, the first time in my entire life. I think it went something like this:
“God, I have no idea what happened tonight, and I am pretty freaked out. I have no business keeping this baby. I have a crappy job and no money to raise a kid on, you DO NOT want me to be a mother, I ASSURE you!!!” And without the skip of a beat I heard a voice that said, “This child will come into the world to do great things.” I was SO FREAKED OUT I jumped up out of bed, turned on my light, because I was POSITIVE someone was in my room….but there was no one. Just me, and my bed, and my now wildly crazy thoughts that I am CLEARLY schizophrenic, because I am hearing voices in my head! I went and got a drink of water; my heart was beating so fast I was sure I was going to have a heart attack. I mildly calmed myself down, I get back into bed, and I say “OK God, if that was REALLY YOU, then you need to show me a sign that this is something I am really supposed to do…A CLEAR SIGN…(Picture this: I am shouting out loud…I knew I sounded like a lunatic!) But what happened next would change fate forever. I was lying there, and all of a sudden I felt what felt like butterflies in my stomach. It was the first time I ever felt him move, the flutters lasted for about 30 minutes. I had my sign….I laid in my bed and cried for hours, knowing I had just committed to becoming a mother. I had never felt so scared in that moment, than I have ever felt in my entire life.
4 1/2 months later I gave birth to a son, Taylor. My ENTIRE family was in the delivery room…(Imagine my big fat greek wedding), seriously….even my 14 year-old sister AND her boyfriend were in there (BIRTH CONTROL)! Which must have worked since she’s 29 with no plans to have children. After 15 hours of labor and 3 hours of pushing, All was quiet as Taylor was making his appearance into the world…and all of a sudden I hear my mother yell “WHY IS HE BLUE?” The doctor looked at her and said, “YOU….OUT….NOW!” Seriously, why would you yell that? If you knew my mother you would understand. Taylor was born a healthy baby boy (I wish I could remember his stats, but I don’t). I do remember however that he was born on 3/31, at 3:33am, in room 3, in the Chinese NEW Year of the Rabbit (luckiest year), and most importantly the blessing of the LORD. I’m pretty sure that 3 is his lucky number…
I wish I could go on to say that I found God, and was a phenomenal mother, but that is far from the truth; I was still the same self-centered girl I was 9 months before…
In case you’re wondering, I just told my son this full story on this most recent Christmas night. It was the right timing as he has been dealing with some very personal issues. I never want him to doubt that there isn’t a God…because that would be a travesty all things considering. I’m not sure anyone in my family knows this story because none of them believe in God, and I’m not sure they would believe me anyhow.
I promise I will continue the story of what happened next, but the story of ones life can not be written in a whole night….
Taylor became my INSPIRATION….