The Wonders of Childhood

Being a child is magical, really. But the childhood imagination has a tendency to veer toward the hilarious and absurd. Here are some of the magical, hilarious and absurd memories of my childhood.

-When I was very little, my dad found a ginormous bullfrog outside. First, he brought it inside and let it just hop around on the floor. Then, sensing my discomfort, he picked it back up and tried convincing me to hold it, eventually chasing me around the house with it until I locked myself in the bathroom. I've been absolutely terrified of frogs ever since.

-One of my earliest memories of being conscious of my appearance, was looking at myself in the mirror, and discovering how long my hair was. I stood there and swished my hair back and forth in front of the mirror. It made me feel beautiful. Ironically, just a few days later, my mom decided it was time to cut it all off.

-I wanted a doll in the worst way, that had a button you could push to make her hair grow long, and eventually got one for Christmas - her name was Violet. I'm pretty sure this was due to the fact that I fantasized all the time about my own hair being long again.

-There were many kids on our street. All of us were good friends and attended church regularly. One day (I was about 7 or 8) we were playing outside, and we "beheld" a cross and the face of Jesus in the clouds. We knew it was a vision from the Lord and spent the rest of the day praying and repenting. I even called my pastor to let him know there had been a visitation from God that day. (Some of these memories still make me cringe with embarrassment:) )

-I had an obsession with Valentines. I kept every Valentine I had ever received and put them in categories from favorites (being the ones that had the cutest pictures on them) to least favorites (the plainer ones). And I kept all the birthday cards I received, starting with my 4th birthday. I still remember what some of my favorites looked like.

-I got chicken pox in the 3rd grade. All the kids on our street visited me by standing mournfully outside my front window and staring at me for hours as I lay inside on the couch, as if I could die at any moment. As careful as we all were, soon my sister and friends starting "dropping" like flies, one after another. Every single one of us kids fell victim to the chicken pox, and eventually we all compared our blisters and scars, and argued over who had it the worst. My sister had gotten absolutely coated with chicken pox, from head to toe. So the award went to her. It was an odd award, but I wanted it just the same. :)

-A travesty occurred during my chicken pox isolation - my mom kept me occupied by playing records for me, and I ended up developing an obsession with Barry Manilow and wanted to marry him.

-Our pastor's daughter broke her arm, and her entire arm was put in a cast. For some strange reason, I wanted a cast too, like nothing else I'd ever wanted. I even fantasized about breaking my own arm somehow. Yes, I was a weird child.

-I also wanted braces/retainers in a bad way, and spent many hours of time fashioning "retainers" out of paper clips. It seemed I was the only kid on the block with straight teeth and I considered this to be a terrible misfortune.

-In 4th grade, I became convinced that if I just had enough money to buy a movie camera, I could make the best movie anyone had ever seen. I set about trying to raise money. I had it all planned out - the theme song of my movie was going to be, "Weekend in New England"....by Barry Manilow.

-In 4th grade, I experienced a severe bout of separation anxiety and fear that something bad would happen to my mom. I lived just down the street from where I went to school. I begged my mom to keep our VW bus parked on the street or in the driveway every day so I could see she was home. Every recess and lunch break, I ran outside to check and make sure my mom's car was visible to me. The few times I came out and her car was missing, I would panic, and usually had to visit the school secretary or nurse, until they convinced me that everything was fine, and it was time to go to class. Strangely enough, this horrible fear just disappeared, almost as quickly as it came on.

-In 5th grade, I had saved up enough money from selling some toys at a garage sale to buy a record player. I only had $24.oo, so I had to buy the cheapest record player K Mart sold. I brought it home, full of intense excitement, triumph and anticipation. It took me weeks to accept and then recover from the realization that the thing was an absolute piece of junk and didn't really work.

-One Christmas, I asked for a stereo system, and I just knew I would be getting one. What I got, essentially, was a clock radio.

-In Junior High, I finally gave in and got a boyfriend, because I was tired of being teased for never having had one. About 1 month into our "relationship" (you know, the kind of Junior High relationship where a boy and girl are technically going together, but in reality, they hardly ever see each other), rumor had it that he was planning to kiss me, so I promptly broke up with him.

These are just a few of my silly childhood memories. I laugh at them now and think of them with fondness. I'm so thankful that because I had loving parents and a God-centered home, I was able to experience childhood the way it was meant to be experienced, as opposed to a childhood laced with pain and uncertainty.

God is the giver of all good things. I'm so glad that because of His grace, I can look back on my childhood with fondness. I know also that it's because of His grace and presence in our home today, that I can help facilitate this kind of carefree, silly, magical childhood for my own children.

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The Moppy-Haired Music Man

Some big things happened in my life when I was 10. As mentioned in my last post, I performed in my own recital. I had spent 2 years preparing and practicing for it. In anticipation of this event, I felt nothing but nerves - after it was over, nothing but joy and relief and a sense of accomplishment. Also at the age of 10, my mom and dad took my sister, Tricia, and I to our first Jesus West Coast. This was a weekend long festival of Christian music and teaching. We camped there as a family for 3 days.

I'm sure there were many wonderful Christian artists and speakers that weekend. But they all faded in my memory in comparison to the moppy-haired man who played the piano and sang. His name was Keith Green - he was largely unknown at the time (hard to imagine, huh?), as his first album had just been released. As he stepped to the piano and prepared to play, I had no idea what was about to hit me. His "performance" was electric with passion. He burned up the piano with his playing, and his personality was almost manic with excitement about Jesus.

We went home from Jesus West Coast with a Keith Green album (supposedly for my parents) and a Music Machine album (remember that?) for my sister and me. Little did my parents know how much Keith Green's performance had affected me. I went home, and played the Keith Green album incessantly, and I'm afraid Music Machine saw very little light of day :)! Soon, my parents ordered me a Keith Green music book, and I learned every song in it.

As mentioned before, I learned to sing and play these songs for church. My dad, sister and I sang many of them together, while I accompanied at the piano. We eventually signed up for his newsletter in order to be informed every time a new album was released. We ordered them all, as well as all the music books. To say these albums were favorites of mine would be an understatement. My memory is a bit foggy, but I think we saw him in concert at least 2 more times. I remember he preached more than he sang and played, but I enjoyed seeing his passion, no matter what form it took. Through his newsletters, we followed his life as he moved from So. California to Texas, and as he and his wife had their first child, then another, then another. Coincidentally, his second child was born within a few months of my youngest sister, in 1980, and they have the same name, Bethany Grace.

I will never forget where I was on a summer day in 1982, when I found out that Keith Green had been killed in a plane crash. I was at home, and my mom was watching Good Morning America. They reported the crash in the news portion of the program. He, his 2 oldest children, and another entire family were killed. His pregnant wife and youngest child were not in the plane. I was shocked and distressed, to put it mildly. I immediately went over to my friend's house down the street and told her, and we both cried and listened to his albums and sang his songs together, while I played the piano. My good friend, Nancy, was almost as big a fan as I was.

His last album was recorded shortly before the crash, but had not been released. We already had an order in for it, even before he died. As soon as it arrived, I took it over to Nancy's house, and we listened to the whole thing together. The album was his first, and last, worship album. It still is my favorite of his.

Keith Green was not necessarily an idol of mine, like Cindy was. I just loved him. At the tender age of 10, his music spoke to my heart and urged me into a vibrant relationship with Jesus. I desperately wanted to have that same relationship with God and passion that Keith Green had. I can still remember how my soul seemed to swell with life whenever I listened to his music.

My husband grew up with Keith Green's music, as well. The REALLY neat thing is now our children have grown up with his music. For some reason, his music has never gone out of style! And all my kids love it almost as much as I did when I was their age! I thank the Lord Jesus for ministering His grace to me through Keith Green's music. God, you are so Good to me!

My Inspiration

As a child, I remember almost all my friends gravitated toward idolizing someone, whether a famous singer, a beautiful movie or television star, or a sports legend. Many of my girlfriends and I faithfully watched Charlie's Angels. Then we would pretend we WERE Charlie's Angels, while fighting over who got to be Farrah Fawcett :).

I didn't really need a famous person to idolize, because I had Cindy. After my dad became a Christian, we started attending a really good church in Red Bluff, called First Church of God. I wanted so badly to learn how to play piano. I was still 6 years old at the time. There was a new, young married couple in the church, who had just moved down to Red Bluff from Portland, OR. Rod became the assistant pastor, and his wife, Cindy, who had a degree in music, took over the piano playing position at church, and wanted to start giving piano lessons on the side. This was my perfect opportunity - and I begged my parents to let me take lessons from her.

I was her first piano student. Cindy not only had an incredible gift at the piano, but she could sing even more beautifully than she played. I expressed to her an interest in singing and playing, the way she did on Sunday mornings. By the time I was in 4th grade, she had me singing and accompanying myself on the piano, regularly. I remember even playing and singing Keith Green songs starting at the age of 10.

Cindy could see my interest and aptitude, and always found new ways to challenge me. Also at the age of 10, I performed in my own recital - I played 14 songs, all from memory - Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, etc.. I remember being scared to death. I remember not wanting to do it at all, but she made me do it :), because she knew I could.

To add to all her musical talents, Cindy was the most beautiful lady I had ever seen. She was a Rose Festival princess. Even to this day, I've never known any one quite as beautiful. AND she had the personality and sweetness of an angel. I know she had faults, but I couldn't see them at that age. You can see why I idolized her! I visited her home for lessons every week (give or take a few weeks here and there, of course) for 9 years. I became like a daughter to her, and she became like a second mother to me. All I wanted in life was to be like Cindy.

As the years went by, I picked up so much from Cindy - many of her mannerisms, etc.. Her influence in my life is immeasurable. But as I grew older, I also began to realize that I was NOT Cindy, no matter how much I tried to be like her. I was not as beautiful as she, and there was nothing I could do about it. I had a much different personality - I was more introspective and introverted, and she was an extrovert who had no trouble socializing with anyone, friend or stranger. This humbled and vexed me greatly - I couldn't quite attain to what she was. And it helped to balance out my confidence, even pride in my musical accomplishments.

When I grew up, I was able to look back, and to see how God had blessed me with this relationship. First of all, he brought someone into my life who was able to nurture my interests and talents in music. He gave me the example of a wonderful Godly woman to admire and aspire to. But my relationship with Cindy also helped to develop in me a humility and realistic opinion of myself, as I looked at myself in contrast to her. And I had to learn to accept, that just as God gave me a gift for music, He also gave me a particular personality and temperment, and a unique physical appearance - different from Cindy or anyone else, and that was OK. I eventually learned just be content with who God made me to be, and yet so thankful for His grace in bringing a very special person into my life.

Lastly, I want to mention that the greatest gift Cindy ever gave me, was a knowledge that suffering produces beauty and character. I have mentioned a lot of her qualities, but the one I have saved for last is that Cindy lived through much suffering. Her father died of a heart attack when she was only 9 years old. Her mother died of cancer when she was 18 and a freshman at Warner Pacific College. And lastly, Cindy herself had a blood disease. During our visits at her house, she talked a lot about her parents and all she had gone through. She always had a good lesson to share about what she learned through it all. She was dignified and strong and very accomplished, and I had enough sense to figure out that a lot of that could be traced back to what she had endured in her young life. I even prayed often, that if it took suffering to produce a richness of character and strength and beauty like hers, then so be it.

A Boy and a Girl

This is the story of how a boy met a girl and eventually got married - of course, the boy is my husband and the girl is me. But what you may not know is that my husband was really just a boy of 9, and I was a girl of only 6, the first time we laid eyes on each other. My family lived in a small town called Red Bluff, CA, and when I was 6 years old, there was a lot of turbulence going on inside my home. My mom and dad had separated. I remember one day, hearing a knock on the door. I opened the door and it was my dad. He spoke to my mom, sister and me for a short time and left. And that was when I realized something was very wrong - because dads don't knock on the doors of their own houses!

My mom had a good friend named Rena. She convinced my mom to take a little vacation in Oregon with her and her two kids. At this time, my dad had moved back home, but my parents' relationship continued to be unstable and their future was very uncertain. Rena had an older sister there - a Godly, wise woman, and Rena said she would be able to give my mom some desperately needed counsel and advice. So my mom, sister and I, along with Rena and her two children, drove to Roseburg, OR. I remember meeting a bunch of kids who lived there. They were really nice. One of the kids was a girl of about 13, and she walked all of us younger kids to a grocery store, where we each picked out our own bags full of penny candy! Then she told us, that in order to protect our candy stash, we should hide them inside the crawl space of the house, which we did. I'm not sure who we were protecting our candy FROM, since we all had our own bags of it, and they were all stashed in the same crawl space!

We stayed for a weekend, and went home. I really don't remember much besides what I already shared - after all, I was only 6. But a young boy of 9 remembered me. He developed his first crush that weekend, and never forgot about it. He remembered being really embarrassed because I could read and he couldn't. :) And he didn't know what to do with a girl like me except to tease. So he wrapped a thin metal wire around my ankle and the other end to a tree and told me to run, which I did, and promptly fell on my face!

My mom had visited with Rena's sister, and received the following counsel that she still remembers to this day: When you don't know what to do or where to go, the best thing to do is just STAY - stay where you are, stay on your knees, and pray. So that's what my mom did. A short time later, my dad met Jesus and gave his life to Him, and our lives took a completely different course because of this decision. My mom and dad's marriage was completely restored, and we all started attending church together. Eventually, my dad became involved in men's ministry, music ministry, and teaching Sunday School. And my mom became the church secretary.

Fast forward to my 18th year. I decided to attend a small Christian college, George Fox - really my reason for choosing this college was because...well, that happened to be where my boyfriend was going. My first weekend there, a guy saw me and became interested. He told his friends he was planning to meet me on the floor of my dorm during the next "Open Floor" (a few hours a week, guys could come onto the floor of the girls' dorm and visit, as long as all doors remained wide open :) ). So, during one of the first "open floors" of the school year, I saw this tall, dark-haired young man strolling the halls, visiting with some of the older girls he already knew. He just happened to stroll down towards my room :), and we bumped into each other. He introduced himself and we commenced some small talk. He asked me where I was from, and I told him "Red Bluff, California." He said, "Oh wow, I had some cousins and aunt and uncle who lived in Red Bluff....but they moved to Southern California about 10 or so years ago." I didn't think anything of it. I had a picture album sitting on my desk, with photos of my family and youth group friends in Red Bluff, as well, as some old childhood friends. I proudly showed him pictures of my younger sisters and brother. And I turned to a page with a picture of some old friends from out of town that had come back to Red Bluff my senior year of high school to visit us. He looked at that picture and his jaw dropped open. He said, "That's a picture of Terry and Cindy - MY cousins!"

You can imagine the surprise. His cousins were my childhood friends who used to live in Red Bluff, the ones we drove up to Oregon with when I was 6 - to HIS house! He said, "You're that girl who came to visit with my cousins. I never forgot you and often wondered what had become of you. You were the first girl I ever had a crush on." Thus, a friendship began. In fact, he quickly became my best friend in the world. Wes was convinced that our meeting as children was far from coincidence. He started pursuing me in earnest. It took him over 2 years to win my heart. He NEVER gave up, and never even had any other dating relationships during that time. And when I finally fell in love, believe me, I fell hard.

We married at the end of my Junior year. Wes's cousins, and my childhood friends, Terry and Cindy Brown, were in the wedding party. I love our story. During hard times, and we've had some REALLY hard times, just knowing and remembering how we met - and how he loved me ever since he first saw me as a little girl wearing these glasses that were bigger than my entire face - this knowledge and rememberance has sustained me in my love, devotion and commitment to him throughout our 20 year marriage.

Thank you God for your grace - in bringing me a wonderful husband who loves me so dearly. You are so Good to me!!

This blog has one purpose - to tell the story of God's grace in the life of my family. I titled this blog Pieces of Grace, because each post will contain a piece of a story, and like a puzzle, the pieces eventually will come together to display a beautiful picture of God's amazing grace.