I stole the idea of telling our story from here. However, it has continued to be on my mind for several weeks now and it wasn't until today that I think I figured out why.
It's fall in North Carolina. The leaves are beginning to change, the weather is getting crisp. As the leaves fall from the trees I think about how the old is being removed so that in the spring, new can grow. This time of year has always been my favorite. What I also realized today is that fall brings back memories of two very special events in my life.
I am telling you the story of me, Luke and our life together for several reasons. The first being that I want anyone reading this to understand that I am so incredibly imperfect. I have made so many mistakes that out of all the people I know, I MUST be the most flawed.
The second is so that you can see clearly that God is what holds our marriage and our family together. Without Him, we would not have the marriage we have nor could we parent these children He has placed in our home.
Also, some of you reading this have known me for a long, long time. Some of you knew me back when I was being held captive by my sin. For some of you, it must be incredibly hard for you to understand how I can blog regularly about my God, yet know all the things from my past. I know I must sound like the hugest hypocrite.
I want my life to be an open book, with God being the binding that holds it all together. I want the stories of my life to scream out the name of my Savior, allowing His redeeming glory to shine through. I want everyone to realize that I am still that same girl that grew up in small town Arkansas, went to a small town college, has made countless mistakes but now serves the Creator of the universe. I want everyone to know that I am only redeemed by grace and that by nothing more than mercy am I changed, in Christ's precious name.
With that said, please know that true to my character these stories will be raw, real and personal. This is me. What you see is what you get, I have nothing to hide.
____
The fall of 1998 was one of huge changes for me. I remember, so vividly, my first trip down the twisted, Arkansas Ozark roads to my new life. I had the radio blasting Dixie Chicks and I was on my way to freedom. College was all that I could think about and I was ready for the new chapter in my life. I was ready to discover myself.
High school was not a time of fond memories for me. During my junior year, I became physical with my boyfriend. My father found out and my life turned upside down. The greatest pain came when my father told me that he could no longer trust me. You see, just 3 short years earlier I had made the choice to leave North Carolina where my mom and step-dad lived. I had made the choice, at 13 years old, to move back to Arkansas and live with my father. We had always been close, and since I was 10 years old, I had been waiting for the day that I could choose where I wanted to live. I was a daddy's girl, putting him on such a pedestal. When I realized that he too was not perfect, I was shattered.
In May of 1998, I spent the hours before my high school commencement moving my personal belongings from my father's house into my cousin's house. As soon as I was officially a graduate, I would be on my own, no longer captive by my father's rules.
With the an acceptance letter and a volleyball scholarship to Lyon College, my life was going to begin. As I drove those roads in August of 1998, the wind was in my hair, my spirit felt free and the emptiness inside me was looking forward to finding that missing piece. I was so sure that I would find what was missing in my new found freedom. I knew the world was risky. I knew I was going to find myself. I knew that college held all the answers.
What I didn't know was, that along with all the "necessities" for college, I was carrying with me fresh wounds of a damaged relationship with my father. Nothing I would find at college could heal those pains. No one could make that hurt go away, at least not anyone on this earth.
I moved into college 2 weeks before the general student body, for pre-season volleyball "practice" (read: torture). It was easy for me to fit in because I had already played J.O. volleyball with almost half of the team. College life had started off as amazing.
My freshman year was pretty tame. I stuck to the rules during volleyball season, the rules of no boys, no booze. The first week that everyone was on campus there was a party at the baseball trailer (yes, an on campus double wide that housed 8 baseball players). After much prompting (read: NO prompting) from the upper classmen volleyball players, I went.
I sat on the nastiest couch in the world and got hit on by the drunkest guy on the planet. As he sat on my leg (unbeknownst to him) he told me about how great Lyon College was. Between wiping the spit off my face and feeling my leg go numb from his weight, I remembered the advice my mother had given me just weeks earlier.
"Jessica, be very careful when you go out. There's this thing called the date-rape drug, and guys will try to slip it to you."
Unless this guys was trying to slip it to me by spitting it in my face, I was in the clear. After I made it abundantly clear that I WAS NOT interested in him, he left to get another drink and didn't return. Whew!
My roommate then abandoned me and I was left at this trailer with no one to talk to. That's when another guy approached me. He walked over and told me that he lived in the trailer.
"Hey, my name's Luke. Are you a freshman?"
Holy crap. A sober guy speaking to me. He MUST be trying to slip me the date rape drug. Little did I know that Luke didn't drink and he was actually a pretty nice guy.
I muttered out a few words and avoided eye contact. Finally, realizing that I wasn't up for conversation, he looked at me and said,
"Wow, your kind of a witch (only, he didn't say witch) aren't you?"
He turned and walked away. Totally offended, I left the party and went back to my dorm room, wondering if this college thing was really for me. I think I even cried myself to sleep that night. Three weeks of freedom and I still felt empty. Where was the thing that would fill my void?
Consumed with volleyball, I forgot all about the rude guy at the party. I settled into life as a full time student-athlete and realized that life was a lot of work, and I was up for the challenge.
It's fall in North Carolina. The leaves are beginning to change, the weather is getting crisp. As the leaves fall from the trees I think about how the old is being removed so that in the spring, new can grow. This time of year has always been my favorite. What I also realized today is that fall brings back memories of two very special events in my life.
I am telling you the story of me, Luke and our life together for several reasons. The first being that I want anyone reading this to understand that I am so incredibly imperfect. I have made so many mistakes that out of all the people I know, I MUST be the most flawed.
The second is so that you can see clearly that God is what holds our marriage and our family together. Without Him, we would not have the marriage we have nor could we parent these children He has placed in our home.
Also, some of you reading this have known me for a long, long time. Some of you knew me back when I was being held captive by my sin. For some of you, it must be incredibly hard for you to understand how I can blog regularly about my God, yet know all the things from my past. I know I must sound like the hugest hypocrite.
I want my life to be an open book, with God being the binding that holds it all together. I want the stories of my life to scream out the name of my Savior, allowing His redeeming glory to shine through. I want everyone to realize that I am still that same girl that grew up in small town Arkansas, went to a small town college, has made countless mistakes but now serves the Creator of the universe. I want everyone to know that I am only redeemed by grace and that by nothing more than mercy am I changed, in Christ's precious name.
With that said, please know that true to my character these stories will be raw, real and personal. This is me. What you see is what you get, I have nothing to hide.
____
The fall of 1998 was one of huge changes for me. I remember, so vividly, my first trip down the twisted, Arkansas Ozark roads to my new life. I had the radio blasting Dixie Chicks and I was on my way to freedom. College was all that I could think about and I was ready for the new chapter in my life. I was ready to discover myself.
High school was not a time of fond memories for me. During my junior year, I became physical with my boyfriend. My father found out and my life turned upside down. The greatest pain came when my father told me that he could no longer trust me. You see, just 3 short years earlier I had made the choice to leave North Carolina where my mom and step-dad lived. I had made the choice, at 13 years old, to move back to Arkansas and live with my father. We had always been close, and since I was 10 years old, I had been waiting for the day that I could choose where I wanted to live. I was a daddy's girl, putting him on such a pedestal. When I realized that he too was not perfect, I was shattered.
In May of 1998, I spent the hours before my high school commencement moving my personal belongings from my father's house into my cousin's house. As soon as I was officially a graduate, I would be on my own, no longer captive by my father's rules.
With the an acceptance letter and a volleyball scholarship to Lyon College, my life was going to begin. As I drove those roads in August of 1998, the wind was in my hair, my spirit felt free and the emptiness inside me was looking forward to finding that missing piece. I was so sure that I would find what was missing in my new found freedom. I knew the world was risky. I knew I was going to find myself. I knew that college held all the answers.
What I didn't know was, that along with all the "necessities" for college, I was carrying with me fresh wounds of a damaged relationship with my father. Nothing I would find at college could heal those pains. No one could make that hurt go away, at least not anyone on this earth.
I moved into college 2 weeks before the general student body, for pre-season volleyball "practice" (read: torture). It was easy for me to fit in because I had already played J.O. volleyball with almost half of the team. College life had started off as amazing.
My freshman year was pretty tame. I stuck to the rules during volleyball season, the rules of no boys, no booze. The first week that everyone was on campus there was a party at the baseball trailer (yes, an on campus double wide that housed 8 baseball players). After much prompting (read: NO prompting) from the upper classmen volleyball players, I went.
I sat on the nastiest couch in the world and got hit on by the drunkest guy on the planet. As he sat on my leg (unbeknownst to him) he told me about how great Lyon College was. Between wiping the spit off my face and feeling my leg go numb from his weight, I remembered the advice my mother had given me just weeks earlier.
"Jessica, be very careful when you go out. There's this thing called the date-rape drug, and guys will try to slip it to you."
Unless this guys was trying to slip it to me by spitting it in my face, I was in the clear. After I made it abundantly clear that I WAS NOT interested in him, he left to get another drink and didn't return. Whew!
My roommate then abandoned me and I was left at this trailer with no one to talk to. That's when another guy approached me. He walked over and told me that he lived in the trailer.
"Hey, my name's Luke. Are you a freshman?"
Holy crap. A sober guy speaking to me. He MUST be trying to slip me the date rape drug. Little did I know that Luke didn't drink and he was actually a pretty nice guy.
I muttered out a few words and avoided eye contact. Finally, realizing that I wasn't up for conversation, he looked at me and said,
"Wow, your kind of a witch (only, he didn't say witch) aren't you?"
He turned and walked away. Totally offended, I left the party and went back to my dorm room, wondering if this college thing was really for me. I think I even cried myself to sleep that night. Three weeks of freedom and I still felt empty. Where was the thing that would fill my void?
Consumed with volleyball, I forgot all about the rude guy at the party. I settled into life as a full time student-athlete and realized that life was a lot of work, and I was up for the challenge.