Seeing him again

There I was, happily playing in the pool with my kids. When I looked up and saw him. I was so stunned that for a moment all I could do was stare at him. I'm hoping now that he didn't see me staring. What would he think?

When I was a sophomore in high school, I was, shall we say, um, top heavy? I got a lot of comments ranging from "you are so lucky" from girls, to grunting and staring from the boys. Behind my back it was said that I was easy. What is it about big boobs that makes people think a girl is easy? It isn't like sleeping around makes your breasts grow.

One day after practicing for the musical, when the school was virtually empty except for the theater, I wanted to go fix my hair. For some reason, I went to one of the restrooms farther away from the theater. I didn't notice him behind me. I got all the way into the restroom and was startled by hands pulling at me from behind. I was whirled around and slammed up against the mirror, all the while being groped and slobbered on. It felt like he was trying to jam his tongue down my throat. When I finally was able to process what was going on, I managed to push him off me. I yelled something at him, something stupid and totally senseless I'm sure, and ran out of the bathroom.

I don't remember ever telling anyone except one person. His girlfriend was in my biology class. I told her what he had done to me. She called me a liar, said I was just jealous, and for the rest of high school, even after they had broken up, refused to speak to me and talked about me to her friends. I don't know why I never told a teacher, the principal, my mom. I guess I thought that since I was built that way, I was just going to have to get used to that kind of stuff happening.

The summer between my sophomore and junior years, I had a breast reduction. Guess who is the only person to ever notice. Him. Yeah, he denied what happened, but he still managed to be the only one to see that I had changed.

So there I was, at the community center's indoor pool. James had taken Honor to use the restroom. I was watching for her to come back when I saw him. It took the breath right out of me. I know I wasn't raped or beaten or even physically hurt at all, but the site of him, even 22 years later, brought back a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I thought was gone. Does it ever completely go away?

This year is my 20 year high school reunion. Up until that day, I had been trying to decide if I should go or not. Seeing him was a great way to make up my mind.

Something Crazy

I had a God moment this morning in the car.

I was listening to Steven Curtis Chapman's newest album, This Moment and a song came on that I absolutely love and had actually decided that I would get the background track so I could sing it sometime.



Anyway, this time as I was listening to it, I suddenly started to cry. Wait. Cry is not the right word. I was overcome. I don't know how else to describe it. I really believed I would have to pull over so I wouldn't kill someone!

Let me back up a couple of weeks. Wait--a couple of decades. When James was about 21, he funded his own mission trip to Togo, West Africa. His aunt and uncle were missionaries there. He stayed for a month and came back with a strong impression that he was being called to missions. Then he met me.

I am a home-girl. No, no. Not THAT kind of home-girl (yo). I just like being within about 50 miles of where I was born. Kinda like a homing pigeon. Yep, I'm a pigeon. I never wanted to be anywhere but right here in good ol' Kansas. The year we went to New Mexico was one of the worst times in my life.

James told me he wanted to go to Africa someday as a missionary. I said, "OK! I'll go!" But then I did everything I could (intentionally or subconciously) to tie us here. In my head, I wanted to be where God wanted me to be. In my heart, I wanted to be in Kansas. I told God I would do what He wanted, but I wanted Him to want me right here. I even pretended that He said "right here" was fine with Him.

OK, now back (or is it forward) to a couple of weeks ago. I was surfing the web (when am I ever NOT?) and I found myself on the Southern Baptist Convention website. Don't know how. Our church just recently became Southern Baptist, so maybe I was curious. Really, I don't know. Anyhoo, I came across a page for mission openings. My stomach flipped. I switched tabs. I switched back. I clicked the link that said something like "so you think you want to be a missionary, huh?" I read through the list of things to do to make sure that missions is your thang. I think the first one said "pray about it".

So that's what I did. But only in my spare time. Whenever I would think about it I'd send a shout out to God and ask, "so, God. Missions?" Honestly, it was never more than a passing thought. I think, no I'm sure, I was still hoping He would just ignore my stupid little prayers and LET ME BE.

Now, back to today. Driving. Listening. Singing. Crying. And I knew. I KNEW. I got my answer. I don't know where this revelation is going to take me and my family. It probably won't even be soon, but I KNOW that some day, I will be a full-time missionary. And I also know that it probably won't be in this country. Yikes. That scares me almost as much as drawn-on eyebrows.

I will keep you updated. I'm sure we will start the process soon. I don't have a bachelor's degree and I know a lot of mission boards require one.

Please pray for us. Pray that God would direct us to the right board, the right location, and the right time.

Oh, and the song that inspired the title to this blog entry, Something Crazy. It's right after Yours on the CD. It's a happy, upbeat song, but I cried like a baby through it, too. God was taking my stubborn little heart and shakin' the "me" out of it. It was definitely crazy.

And it's crazy when love gets ahold of you
And it's crazy things that love will make you do
And it's crazy but it's true
You really don't know love at all
'Til it's makin' you do
Something crazy

Crazy. The end.