24 Years Ago - I stepped In
When I stepped in I felt like I had already lived more than a 17 year old should have. I had already accrued many scars, a lovely tattoo and several bad habits. In fact, by the time I was 16 years old I was a full-fledged alcoholic and occasioned recreational drugs. I drank grape beer with my granny and smoked cigarettes since I was 5. She would say, “I would rather you smoke in front of me so you don’t burn the house down.” Bless her heart; she had an 8th grade education and her own scars. Gladdy was a family friend but I always considered her a granny. I learned love for cats, beer and how to love even when you are not blood related from her.
I know why I was trying to sabotage my life now. At the time, I literally had no good ideas, no mentors and no direction. If I did, I was not listening to them. My friends certainly had no clue about how to do life. I loved them dearly but I saw that their futures were destined to be professional partiers. I wasn’t even psychic! I knew that life wasn't for me. The “how to get to happiness, joy and fulfillment” rather than my next high was in the back of my mind, I just was not sure of the path. In the meantime, getting trashed was easier.
One evening my peers and I came up with a great plan to stay out all night and “Wha-Hoo” beer. I had the get away car. It wasn’t ideal for the task at hand because not only was the car my deceased grandmother’s automobile with sentimental value but also it leaked oil, real bad. The car literally touted the words "Emma Jane's Blue Angle,” written on the side of it. My dad was an auto body teacher at the time and he had his students paint the car blue. They did a real nice job, only they misspelled "Angel.” That night, Angle’s engine blew. So when Dad came to pick me up on the side of the road the next morning in one of his spare cars, he was not happy. He jumped started Me Maw’s old car and it started! However, things got worse. I somehow hit the spare car he was driving when pulling out to head home for Angle’s last drive. That spare car was his 65 convertible Mustang. This was the Sunday driver, the holy of holies, the “don’t even touch that car” car. I could see in the rearview mirror as the car sputtered on that Dad was extremely angry, to the point of tears. I also came up with this amazing idea that my behavior of destruction did not just reduce my quality of life. I hurt my dad. The look in his eyes was not just disappointment and frustration but I could tell he had not slept all night.
I was shaking. The drive home in the dilapidated vehicle that I ruined was the longest drive of my life. The car jerked and retaliated all the way home - but she made it. Along with thoughts of sweet Me Maw, and how much trouble I was going to be in, it occurred to me how much pain I caused my dad. I also had another thought outside of my own limited maturity that I was probably hurting my heavenly Father as well.
Now, I did not grow up going to church regularly, however I had a praying great grandmother, Nanny Maw. I had some of my family members that lived a good life and their faith in God was the best part. My Nanny Maw did not have a beautiful home, or lavish gifts when I came over. Her home was simple, and she would always give me the gift of her time. She would tell me stories over a cup of coffee with cream and sugar. She taught me how to cool my coffee by spooning some coffee and letting it drop out a few times. I was probably 8 years old drinking coffee with Nanny Maw and listening to her tales of when she would ride her horse to school. She even told me of the time when she was in an Oklahoma honky tonk having a good time. I had a hard time believing that that sweet saint partied! Suddenly the lights when out and all she could see was blazing cigarettes everywhere. She said they looked like demons! She was so scared and she knew she did not belong there. I felt like that too. I knew I did not belong to the world.
I said a simple prayer driving home that day. It’s the one that most people pray when they are in a lurch, and that was, "God please get me out of this." When we got home dad got out his car and said, "You wanna go get some coffee?" I knew there was a God. I saw mercy that day. It was by the kindness of God that I saw that I had had enough of the empty life that was going nowhere. For me, it is better to be a doorkeeper in the house of the Lord than a thousand elsewhere.
My dad suggested that I call my Aunty M who had eyes in the back of her head. I felt like I couldn't even fight with my twin sister in her house it was soo holy! I called her and asked her if I could come live with her in Arkansas. The best thing my family could have ever done to intervene in my life was to get me away from my professional partying status.
Aunt Maybelline, we affectionately called her, had fake eyelashes even to go to the grocery store with long purple nails to boot. She loved Jesus, and sang about "Angels all Around You," in the morning, noon and night. She told me right from the start that in order to stay with her I would be going to church when she went. That lady went to church! She went on Wednesday night, Sunday morning and Sunday night! She would even drive into town on Friday nights to Hot Springs to perform in the play "The Witness," and next thing I know I was in the play as a villager in Jerusalem! There was no doubt that this lady loved the Lord, and she loved me. She wanted me to have a life with meaning, with something to get me through all the hard times. I remember being cold to the kids my age that wanted to invite me to their bible studies. I especially loathed worship at my aunt's church. It went on and on forever! My aunt would get up and sing and clap and cry. Of course she was a good one for always nudging me to be participatory, "Come on Holly, sing!"
One particular Wednesday night service, on July 18, 1990 we went to church, because the doors were open. That night the preacher announced that rather than the usual service of worship, then the sermon, it would be all worship all evening much to my chagrin. They wanted to sing praise to the Lord and stand in the gap for one of their members who had been in an accident. After a few songs, I noticed the atmosphere of the church changed. I could see people crying for this gentleman, praying for him and actually loving him through their worship to the Lord. I saw people my age that had something real, they were authentic in their love for the Lord. I wanted what they had. I wanted what my Nanny Maw, Me Maw and Aunty M had. They had peace. There was no alter call, there was no demand to get saved and freed from eternal damnation, only a sweet drawing to take the world off of my shoulder from a God who I knew had the power to do it. I ran to the alter. I felt like all my sin and shame and stupid that I had already done in my 17 years was gone. I prayed for God to save my twin and my mom, and I wept like a baby! It felt so good to be right with God. It was a miracle. Since that time my life has been full, full of blessings and grace through the trials. One thing is for certain, I have never been left alone. “But as for me it is good to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all your works.” Psalm 73:28
I know why I was trying to sabotage my life now. At the time, I literally had no good ideas, no mentors and no direction. If I did, I was not listening to them. My friends certainly had no clue about how to do life. I loved them dearly but I saw that their futures were destined to be professional partiers. I wasn’t even psychic! I knew that life wasn't for me. The “how to get to happiness, joy and fulfillment” rather than my next high was in the back of my mind, I just was not sure of the path. In the meantime, getting trashed was easier.
One evening my peers and I came up with a great plan to stay out all night and “Wha-Hoo” beer. I had the get away car. It wasn’t ideal for the task at hand because not only was the car my deceased grandmother’s automobile with sentimental value but also it leaked oil, real bad. The car literally touted the words "Emma Jane's Blue Angle,” written on the side of it. My dad was an auto body teacher at the time and he had his students paint the car blue. They did a real nice job, only they misspelled "Angel.” That night, Angle’s engine blew. So when Dad came to pick me up on the side of the road the next morning in one of his spare cars, he was not happy. He jumped started Me Maw’s old car and it started! However, things got worse. I somehow hit the spare car he was driving when pulling out to head home for Angle’s last drive. That spare car was his 65 convertible Mustang. This was the Sunday driver, the holy of holies, the “don’t even touch that car” car. I could see in the rearview mirror as the car sputtered on that Dad was extremely angry, to the point of tears. I also came up with this amazing idea that my behavior of destruction did not just reduce my quality of life. I hurt my dad. The look in his eyes was not just disappointment and frustration but I could tell he had not slept all night.
I was shaking. The drive home in the dilapidated vehicle that I ruined was the longest drive of my life. The car jerked and retaliated all the way home - but she made it. Along with thoughts of sweet Me Maw, and how much trouble I was going to be in, it occurred to me how much pain I caused my dad. I also had another thought outside of my own limited maturity that I was probably hurting my heavenly Father as well.
Now, I did not grow up going to church regularly, however I had a praying great grandmother, Nanny Maw. I had some of my family members that lived a good life and their faith in God was the best part. My Nanny Maw did not have a beautiful home, or lavish gifts when I came over. Her home was simple, and she would always give me the gift of her time. She would tell me stories over a cup of coffee with cream and sugar. She taught me how to cool my coffee by spooning some coffee and letting it drop out a few times. I was probably 8 years old drinking coffee with Nanny Maw and listening to her tales of when she would ride her horse to school. She even told me of the time when she was in an Oklahoma honky tonk having a good time. I had a hard time believing that that sweet saint partied! Suddenly the lights when out and all she could see was blazing cigarettes everywhere. She said they looked like demons! She was so scared and she knew she did not belong there. I felt like that too. I knew I did not belong to the world.
I said a simple prayer driving home that day. It’s the one that most people pray when they are in a lurch, and that was, "God please get me out of this." When we got home dad got out his car and said, "You wanna go get some coffee?" I knew there was a God. I saw mercy that day. It was by the kindness of God that I saw that I had had enough of the empty life that was going nowhere. For me, it is better to be a doorkeeper in the house of the Lord than a thousand elsewhere.
My dad suggested that I call my Aunty M who had eyes in the back of her head. I felt like I couldn't even fight with my twin sister in her house it was soo holy! I called her and asked her if I could come live with her in Arkansas. The best thing my family could have ever done to intervene in my life was to get me away from my professional partying status.
Aunt Maybelline, we affectionately called her, had fake eyelashes even to go to the grocery store with long purple nails to boot. She loved Jesus, and sang about "Angels all Around You," in the morning, noon and night. She told me right from the start that in order to stay with her I would be going to church when she went. That lady went to church! She went on Wednesday night, Sunday morning and Sunday night! She would even drive into town on Friday nights to Hot Springs to perform in the play "The Witness," and next thing I know I was in the play as a villager in Jerusalem! There was no doubt that this lady loved the Lord, and she loved me. She wanted me to have a life with meaning, with something to get me through all the hard times. I remember being cold to the kids my age that wanted to invite me to their bible studies. I especially loathed worship at my aunt's church. It went on and on forever! My aunt would get up and sing and clap and cry. Of course she was a good one for always nudging me to be participatory, "Come on Holly, sing!"
One particular Wednesday night service, on July 18, 1990 we went to church, because the doors were open. That night the preacher announced that rather than the usual service of worship, then the sermon, it would be all worship all evening much to my chagrin. They wanted to sing praise to the Lord and stand in the gap for one of their members who had been in an accident. After a few songs, I noticed the atmosphere of the church changed. I could see people crying for this gentleman, praying for him and actually loving him through their worship to the Lord. I saw people my age that had something real, they were authentic in their love for the Lord. I wanted what they had. I wanted what my Nanny Maw, Me Maw and Aunty M had. They had peace. There was no alter call, there was no demand to get saved and freed from eternal damnation, only a sweet drawing to take the world off of my shoulder from a God who I knew had the power to do it. I ran to the alter. I felt like all my sin and shame and stupid that I had already done in my 17 years was gone. I prayed for God to save my twin and my mom, and I wept like a baby! It felt so good to be right with God. It was a miracle. Since that time my life has been full, full of blessings and grace through the trials. One thing is for certain, I have never been left alone. “But as for me it is good to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all your works.” Psalm 73:28
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