What was I hiding from?

When I was a little girl I would hide in the car. It wasn't the best place to hide, but I felt safe. I would bring 'the book of the week' and sit in the passenger seat and read. Literally, getting lost in a book.  I started doing this when I was about eight years old. 
  We had moved from the house across from my Grandma's to a house far away. ( it was a thirty minute drive.) for an eight year old, that's quite a ways. The house across from my Grandma's was white. I'll call it the white house.
  It seemed that all my Aunts and Uncles lived close to the white house. There was always a cookout going on, family was always around. My cousins, neighborhood kids. We would play basketball in Grandma's driveway. She had a grapevine, a volleyball net, there was a playground with a swing set and huge stone animals we could climb. It was great.
  When I was eight, we moved to a little red house. Across the street was the school I would be going to for third grade. I would, from this day forward, get myself up in the morning and go to school. My Step-Dad would already be gone for work and my Mom might be up, most of the time she wasn't awake.
   It's ironic how the smallest changes can make the biggest impact on your life. This was a turning point for me. This was the year Santa Claus died. There's no Toothfairy. The Easter Bunny doesn't lay eggs and Halloween became scary.
   My Step-Dad worked three jobs while my Mom stayed home 'taking care' of us kids. I hardly saw my Step-Dad unless I was up early in the morning. He worked really hard to provide for us. He still works hard to this day. My Mom kept the house cleaned and did laundry. When my Step-Dad would come home from work, dinner was always on the table.
  Most meals ended in an argument. Mom wasn't happy about one thing or another. Dad couldn't do anything right, from wipe his feet on the throw rug to washing his hands to eating too fast. Always something. This is when my hiding out in the car started. When Dad would leave for his next job, Mom's complaining didn't stop. Now my brother and I couldn't do anything right. Not good enough. Not the way she would do it. She'd have to do 'whatever' over the right way. So I would sit in the car and get lost in a book. I'd be out of Moms hair and not have to hear all the horrible things about my Dad, brother or myself.
  There were magnets on the fridge. 'If you want it done right, do it yourself'.....'First rule: Mom is always right. Second Rule: If Mom is wrong, refer back to rule 1.' ...'If Mom's not happy, NO ONE is happy.'
Funny how these 'cute' magnets reflected the truth in our house. ( to this day, I abhor magnets with sayings!)
The fridge was covered with them. One time I counted 76  magnets!
   By the time I reached High School I was over weight. Being barely five feet tall, I fit into a size ten pant. I weighed one hundred and twenty-seven pounds. I not only hid in the car and read, I ate. A lot. Whatever you didn't finish, I would. No plate left the table with food on it. Burger King became my best friend.
   I tried to be part of school activities. I got good grades and hardly ever got into trouble. When I did get into trouble, the whole world would know about it. Except my Step-Dad. He wasn't allowed to know anything growing up. Things were kept from him because 'he wouldn't understand.' mom would say. Looking back, it was more like Mom wanted control, the last word.
  Theatre was my favorite activity and Science was my favorite class. I was better at Math and English, but I enjoyed Science.
  My parents came to one play in all four years of school. Only because I begged and pleaded and promised to be better. Better? A better child.  Better at school. Better at being a daughter. Better at being invisible.
  What followed was wounding. Not only did I not measure up, I was fat. I only say this because I heard it day in and day out. And the only thing I could do to make myself  feel better, was eat. I would eat at two in the morning. I'd eat when no one was home. I'd finish my friends lunches at school.
  I wouldn't have a bowl of Lucky Charms in the morning, I'd sit in the living room, watching cartoons, with the whole box and a bowl of milk. I ate, watched cartoons or anything that would make me laugh, and read. That was my escape.
   I didn't know how to deal with conflict. I hid. I ate. I laughed. This didn't help me out when I became an adult. When one of my Grandmothers passed away, I cracked jokes. I didn't know how to show my true feelings about death, or about life.
   I remember the first time my first husband raised his voice to me. I shut down. I didn't talk for days. Couldn't look him in the eye. I went about my business doing my wifely duties without a word. This was my protection. Become invisible and don't upset anyone. I learned this early on in life.

  I neutralized myself by putting up protective, defensive walls warning others to keep their distance. Such a long and lonely life. Not allowing myself to be me for fear of rejection, disappointment. This happens to too many of us. And yet we deem this as normal.
 
  I realize that my mother's rejections and objections of me were stemmed from a wounded life of her own. Being like her mother was the best reward she ever received. So, when I wasn't like my mom, it was I who was rejecting her. And this causes a downward spiral for any woman in this situation.
  Wounds become scars when they're not tended to. I needed help. I needed a loving, caring person to intervene and help me become the person I am meant to be. Years later, I found just the one.

 Ladies, you are the bride of Christ... and the bride of Christ is a warring bride. The hardest person to fight for is  yourself. Who is it that we're trying to please? Christ knows who you are......you are his. He knows of your shortcomings, your failings. He also knows of your beauty. Beauty given to you by God, beauty that isn't just on the outside but within. We, too are created in the image of God. God wants love and romance as much as we do. Wanting love and romance is not a weakness. Wanting to please the ones you love is not weak. It is, at times, impossible.
    God longs to please us, He sent His son to die for us because we can not save ourselves. Is that not because He loves us? He loves us unconditionally.
  Instead of ridicule, shame and rejection, Christ stretched forth his hands in love. He waits for us to accept Him so he can clothe us in righteousness and beauty.  HE waits for us to ACCEPT Him! That's powerful.
That's humbling.
  With all of the disappointments in my life, the wounds to my heart and ego, the tears and rejections, Christ waits for me. He waits for me to accept Him so that He can make me whole and new again. He won't force me to change, He won't call me nasty names or turn away from me when I need Him most.

Psalm 27:10
When my father and my mother forsake me, then the LORD will take me up.
Psalm 115:11
Ye that fear the LORD, trust in the LORD: he is their help and their shield.

The word that saves is right here,
      as near as the tongue in your mouth,
      as close as the heart in your chest.
You're not "doing" anything; you're simply calling out to God, trusting him to do it for you. That's salvation. With your whole being you embrace God setting things right.

The One who will not fail me, who loves me and wants what's best for me. The One who lifts me up rather than tears me down. Christ is the One.

Romans 10:9
That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.