Why I begged God not to bring me back to California, and why He did.

When I graduated from high school at seventeen years old, I promised myself that I would never come back to Southern California.  The smog, the traffic, the lack of seasons, the bubble community of my Christian denomination, the superficial culture, and so many other reasons were only part of why I wanted to leave.  With a heart full of pain I hated the place with a passion and decided that to live anywhere else would be better than there.  And so I left without a glance over my shoulder.

The root of my disgust began when I was thirteen.  As an eighth-grader in a private Christian school I had a male teacher that began making me feel very uncomfortable.  When I would speak in class to answer or ask a question, he would tell the whole class to look at me while I spoke because “she’s so beautiful.”  He talked in private with some of my male classmates about my appearance.  I often caught him staring at me.  I found out that he was doing this to two other girls and towards the end of the school year two of us mustered up the courage to speak to the principal about it.  The girl and I were given permission not to attend his class anymore and the teacher was asked not to return the following year.  Last I heard, he moved out of state.  I was relieved to be rid of him, but I stuffed down my feelings of fear and pain because I didn’t know how to process them.

After that I transferred to a different Christian school.  My freshman year was a positive one where I made lots of friends and enjoyed my teachers and classes.  However it wasn’t long until I came into close contact with an individual that had a shining reputation with the students and teachers.  This person was thought to be incredibly kind, loving, spiritual, and was amongst the most popular.  Because of that, I assumed that he was good and safe.  Unfortunately, I was sexually and emotionally abused by this person for the next few years.  Again, I didn’t know how to handle what was happening to me, and because this person was so loved by everyone I didn’t feel like anyone would believe me.   Not having someone to go with me, I didn’t have the courage to speak up like I did in eighth grade.  I stayed silent.

Each day after school I went straight to my job as a hostess at a local restaurant.  And regrettably, there was a male employee there who was sexually harassing me. During the second semester of my senior year my pain was so unbearable that I was ready to drop out. Thankfully, my friend, Pam, who didn’t know all the details, but knew I was in excruciating pain, started to call me every day after work to encourage me.  And my friend, Lori, was faithfully present with me, planning fun things for us to do, taking me out, and buying me flowers.  By the time graduation weekend came, I was done.  I was planning to leave and never come back.

Because the community I lived in was so small and densely populated by my Christian denomination, I feared going outside of my house.  I felt panicked whenever I needed to go to the local Rite Aid or grocery store to buy something for fear that I would bump into someone.  In fact, the person who was abusing me at my high school lived one street above and one block over from me.  I had nightmares and often went to bed in tears begging God not to wake me up in the morning.  I dealt with my pain by watching hours and hours of TV and binge eating, which eventually led to bulimia.  Because of my eating disorder I began gaining weight and often had people make unkind comments about my changing appearance.  I came up with excuses not to go to church just so I wouldn’t have to hear another person tell me how big I was getting.  The thought of food plagued me and sometimes I thought I was going crazy.

One night as I was crying and praying myself to sleep, I had a vision.  I saw the word “WALK” in white cloud-like letters in front of a black backdrop.  I was so exhausted from crying that I told God, “I’m too tired to figure out what that means so tell me about it tomorrow.”  That was probably the first time in many nights that I was hoping for a tomorrow.

The next day God spoke very clearly to me through many happenings that He was calling me to walk away from the life I had been living and learn to walk solely with Him.  So from that point on I followed His leading from California to Tennessee to England to India to Michigan to Pennsylvania and back to Michigan. And I determined that God would not lead me back to California.

During those eleven years of my life I went through very distinct stages of healing.  I moved to Tennessee for college and chose to live in extreme isolation.  For fear of being hurt by another human I shut out all people.  I experienced more sexual harassment by an employee at my summer job and by a student at my college.  The only person I let into my heart was a sweet girl named Alison. And because of her pure, cheerful, humble character, I realized that there were trustworthy people in the world.  Her kindness towards a broken person like me healed my heart a little.  While studying abroad in England I became a fighter.  I was overly bold and stood up for my friends or myself whenever anyone did anything (even if insignificant) that I was threatened by.  And because of the unconditional love and loyalty of my friends Cristina and Andrew, I healed a little more.  In India, where I served as a missionary, I was loved by my students and had the wonderful opportunity to share Jesus with them.  It broke my heart to know that I may never again see those who didn’t accept Jesus and my focus began to lift off of myself and onto others.  My heart again healed a little more.  At yet another college in Michigan, I met my husband who for nearly ten years has experienced me at my worst and forgiven me every time.  His love and commitment to Jesus and me has healed my heart more than any other human has.  In Pennsylvania we were working for a church plant surrounded by poverty and people living in obvious need.  I became friends with Dana C., Jennifer, Delon, Lee, and others who showed me true Christianity being lived out by authentic people who knew their desperate need of God.   Having my first two kids in that environment encouraged me to seriously become a follower of Christ no matter how different I became or how many sacrifices I would have to make.  My time in Pennsylvania healed me significantly.  When we returned to Michigan for Nick’s master’s degree, we were shocked when our middle child was diagnosed with cerebral palsy.  To make a long story short, I realized that even if I do everything right, I cannot control everything.  Jesus’s death, resurrection, and promise to return became 1000X more meaningful to me.

We knew that our second time in Michigan would be brief and we waited to hear from God where He would send us next.  We had been in contact with two conferences on the east coast and one on the west coast where Nick had job opportunities.  One day Nick came up to me and began to tell me about another job possibility.  He gently asked, “What do you think about me putting my name in to become the new chaplain at this high school?”  It happened to be the exact high school that I attended all those years ago.  Nick knew about my painful past, but he thought God could be leading us that way so he asked for my permission.  I cried for three days because deep in my heart I knew that God was taking us to California.  I never want to go back remember, God?  I don’t want to raise kids there!  There is nothing good about that place!  After my three-day mourning period, I realized that I was actually ok.  In that moment I knew that God had healed me.  I no longer felt the pain of my past.  I no longer felt the shame of what happened.  I no longer harbored hate or resentment toward California or the people there.  In fact, I have seen my abuser face to face, and have felt nothing but pity towards him.  I know that the pain he inflicted on me, although horribly wrong, was the result of the pain and deception he experienced.

If God was calling Nick to be the new chaplain at this high school, then that’s where we would go.  God had proven to me that He was trustworthy, that He loved me, that He cared for me, and only wanted good for my life.  That He could turn the worst things into the most beautiful things.  By the time Nick sent in his application (he waited to get the ok from me), the position was filled.  Instead of feeling relieved, I felt concerned.  What if I had caused Nick to miss his calling from God?  Soon after, another church in that area contacted Nick about a position.  And then another church contacted him.  Within a few weeks, Nick was hired and we were moving to California, right back to the place I promised I would never go back to.

Now we’ve been living in Southern California for almost a year and a half.  All of the things I didn’t like about it before still exist, but I am no longer the same.  Every day I don’t go in search of what I think will make me happy, instead I search for Jesus, and He can always be found.

One morning just a couple of weeks ago I was reading Hosea 11:1-4 where God talks about His love for Israel:  “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. But the more they were called, the more they went away from me.  They sacrificed to the Baals and they burned incense to images.  It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love. To them I was like one who lifts a little child to the cheek, and I bent down to feed them.”

It all made sense.  All those years ago, when God gave me that vision with the word, “WALK” he was calling me to walk with Him, yes, but He also began teaching me how to walk. God was calling me to live for Him.  But how could He send me out if I didn’t even know how to walk?  I learned to walk by following Him, learning His voice, letting him take me by the arms, loving me through people, lifting me up, and feeding my soul.  Now He’s teaching me how to run.

A verse that I have recently been reciting to myself throughout the day is, “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing” Psalm 23:1 (NIV).  It has been a powerful experience in battling my daily thoughts.  Often the first thing I think when I wake up is, I didn’t get enough sleep.  Our lives are filled with thoughts of lack throughout the day.  We need more energy.  We need more time.  We need more friends, more fulfillment, more fun, more sunshine, more companionship.

I used to think that I needed to live anywhere but California, that I needed to marry someone that was not going to be a pastor, that I needed to have children that did not have special needs, etc. to be happy.

I used to want so much, so specifically.

I still struggle with thinking that I need more community, more sleep, less therapy time for my boys.  And although to have any of those things would not be bad, I no longer feel that I am incomplete, unsatisfied, or unfulfilled without one of them. I don’t need them.

Now that Jesus has taught me how to walk with Him as my Shepherd and I’ve experienced so much contentment in Him, all I want is more of Him. Period.  Now I could care less where I live because now I know that Jesus is my true Home.  The more that I desire only Jesus, the more my current life situation becomes everything I want.  The more that I seek for Him, the more I see Him in the very things that I wanted least.  And as I keep seeking Jesus, my desire for Him increases, and I can have as much of Him as I want.  I can always be satisfied.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I have everything I need.” Psalm 23:1 (GNT)

“Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.” –C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity