4. The journey begins...
I admit, at first I enjoyed the local celebrity status the accident had caused. Any teenager would like the attention that being a walking miracle brings. But as months went by and then an entire year passed, my parents began to notice subtle changes in me. I had received Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior at the age of 4 one morning when I asked my mother if I could "ask Jesus into my heart." I'd always known the presence of God and my parents raised us with the Bible at the core of our family, singing His praises on the platform at church and in our living room at home. They provided excellent examples of how to incorporate the Word of God into regular life as they lived, learned and grew spiritually right in front of us.
I was a fearless child, always excited about new adventures, trying new things, walking on the highest beams, flipping off the diving board, riding my bike with both feet on the handle bars and hands in the air. But after my accident, I could no longer even go to get the mail. I tried, I truly tried. But I would go stand in the middle of the driveway looking at the mailbox and start shaking. Eventually I would make it to the end of the driveway and drag myself across the street to get the mail. It was crazy. I was so embarrassed that I felt this way and I pushed myself to do this without sharing my feelings with anyone. Not even my parents. I'm sure that my sister, April, was more than a little confused when I would beg her to come with me. I made it seem like it was some sort of "sister time" I wanted to share with her and she always came when I asked. She had slept in my room the night of the accident, partly because the hospital staff had suggested that someone should wake me throughout the night because of the concussion. But April shared later that she felt more confident that I was truly okay when she was sleeping on the floor next to my bed. April always looked up to me as the protecting big sister and being afraid to cross the street in front of her was horrible for me. I hid it the best I could, but I wasn't only afraid of my own street. I became nervous about crossing any street for any reason. It was a gradual thing but became a very real inner battle for me. I have no idea if anyone truly knew the depth of my fear because I always joked about it and made the event seem funny but I believe that fear began to set up a stronghold in my mind shortly after the accident.
As I said, my parents began to notice the changes in me but since I didn't address the fear directly, even when asked, there wasn't too much they could do for me other than pray. I became an expert at hiding the deeper, true things that were at work in my heart and mind. I didn't want to be a bother or to embarrass anyone, especially myself. Meanwhile, as a teenager at a Christian school, I was experiencing the same emotional and spiritual growth as that of my friends. We were building life-time bonds and had a very close family-type class. I was friends with everyone but definitely had a core group that I loved very much. Most of us are still friends today, though not to the level we once were.
Tenth grade was a year of change for me and for many others in my class. Even though I had been excited about starting a new school, it still was a significant transition for me, coming from a public school to a private one. It took me until tenth grade to settle on which people I would be hanging out with, with whom I would spend most of my time. My parents were strict and protective of me so I didn't want to make friends willy-nilly if I would never be allowed to spend the night at their houses or go places with them. We had students come and go our first two years of high school but by the end of tenth grade, we had pretty much settled into our "family" and our relationships. As much as teenagers can settle anyway. Our class celebrated the end of each year with a pool party at our house and it became an annual tradition.
The summer of 1991 brought me my first non-babysitting job. I'd been a nanny for our neighbors' son since he was born and I still kept watching him on Tuesday evenings and Saturdays. I had also "worked" with Dad at the greenhouses doing sweaty work that got dirt (or "soil" as he prefers to call it) under my fingernails and therefore made me crabby. I still hate feeling messy to this day. So, it was time for me to branch out into the real world of work. I became a cashier at the local Kmart, long-since closed. I enjoyed it because it was close by and until I could drive, my parents didn't mind taking me up there. It was fast-paced and I discovered that I liked getting to know our "regular" customers and talking with people while I rang up their purchases. Soon I was transferred to the pharmacy department where I believe they intended to train me as a technician. I will say that I liked being a cashier and working personally with customers. I did not like, however, putting merchandise back on shelves and tidying up the toy department. What possesses people to rifle through every stuffed animal and then leave them in a completely different aisle or tossed on the floor? Anyway...
I did not stay long at the Kmart job because fairly soon I had a better offer for more money and hours that would work with my junior year school schedule. I began to work part-time at a local fruit market and there I stayed until my second year of college. It was family-owned and I should have known then that I was definitely not made for the corporate world. I'll share more about that later though. Again, I was discovering that I liked the personal connection with customers and with my co-workers. It can not be said of me that I have ever been shy. My demeanor was then and still is "I am who I am in Christ and I like the person I am". Even though teenagers usually experience some sort of self-esteem issues, mine never really went beyond "I sure am skinny, my nose is a little sharpish and I hate my teeth." It never really affected me to the core of my heart. Of course, having a family who constantly told me how beautiful I was did help a great deal. Not to mention the fact that my sweet Mom worked an evening job in our cold basement to pay for my orthodontist treatments. Thank you, Mama!
Stressing inner beauty and matching outer behavior really made an impact on me at a young age and I've been careful to pass that on to the young ladies I've been able to reach. Of course, I did struggle from time to time but I'm grateful to say it wasn't my biggest issue as a teen. My biggest issue really got moving in the winter of my junior year.
I admit, at first I enjoyed the local celebrity status the accident had caused. Any teenager would like the attention that being a walking miracle brings. But as months went by and then an entire year passed, my parents began to notice subtle changes in me. I had received Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior at the age of 4 one morning when I asked my mother if I could "ask Jesus into my heart." I'd always known the presence of God and my parents raised us with the Bible at the core of our family, singing His praises on the platform at church and in our living room at home. They provided excellent examples of how to incorporate the Word of God into regular life as they lived, learned and grew spiritually right in front of us.
I was a fearless child, always excited about new adventures, trying new things, walking on the highest beams, flipping off the diving board, riding my bike with both feet on the handle bars and hands in the air. But after my accident, I could no longer even go to get the mail. I tried, I truly tried. But I would go stand in the middle of the driveway looking at the mailbox and start shaking. Eventually I would make it to the end of the driveway and drag myself across the street to get the mail. It was crazy. I was so embarrassed that I felt this way and I pushed myself to do this without sharing my feelings with anyone. Not even my parents. I'm sure that my sister, April, was more than a little confused when I would beg her to come with me. I made it seem like it was some sort of "sister time" I wanted to share with her and she always came when I asked. She had slept in my room the night of the accident, partly because the hospital staff had suggested that someone should wake me throughout the night because of the concussion. But April shared later that she felt more confident that I was truly okay when she was sleeping on the floor next to my bed. April always looked up to me as the protecting big sister and being afraid to cross the street in front of her was horrible for me. I hid it the best I could, but I wasn't only afraid of my own street. I became nervous about crossing any street for any reason. It was a gradual thing but became a very real inner battle for me. I have no idea if anyone truly knew the depth of my fear because I always joked about it and made the event seem funny but I believe that fear began to set up a stronghold in my mind shortly after the accident.
As I said, my parents began to notice the changes in me but since I didn't address the fear directly, even when asked, there wasn't too much they could do for me other than pray. I became an expert at hiding the deeper, true things that were at work in my heart and mind. I didn't want to be a bother or to embarrass anyone, especially myself. Meanwhile, as a teenager at a Christian school, I was experiencing the same emotional and spiritual growth as that of my friends. We were building life-time bonds and had a very close family-type class. I was friends with everyone but definitely had a core group that I loved very much. Most of us are still friends today, though not to the level we once were.
Tenth grade was a year of change for me and for many others in my class. Even though I had been excited about starting a new school, it still was a significant transition for me, coming from a public school to a private one. It took me until tenth grade to settle on which people I would be hanging out with, with whom I would spend most of my time. My parents were strict and protective of me so I didn't want to make friends willy-nilly if I would never be allowed to spend the night at their houses or go places with them. We had students come and go our first two years of high school but by the end of tenth grade, we had pretty much settled into our "family" and our relationships. As much as teenagers can settle anyway. Our class celebrated the end of each year with a pool party at our house and it became an annual tradition.
The summer of 1991 brought me my first non-babysitting job. I'd been a nanny for our neighbors' son since he was born and I still kept watching him on Tuesday evenings and Saturdays. I had also "worked" with Dad at the greenhouses doing sweaty work that got dirt (or "soil" as he prefers to call it) under my fingernails and therefore made me crabby. I still hate feeling messy to this day. So, it was time for me to branch out into the real world of work. I became a cashier at the local Kmart, long-since closed. I enjoyed it because it was close by and until I could drive, my parents didn't mind taking me up there. It was fast-paced and I discovered that I liked getting to know our "regular" customers and talking with people while I rang up their purchases. Soon I was transferred to the pharmacy department where I believe they intended to train me as a technician. I will say that I liked being a cashier and working personally with customers. I did not like, however, putting merchandise back on shelves and tidying up the toy department. What possesses people to rifle through every stuffed animal and then leave them in a completely different aisle or tossed on the floor? Anyway...
I did not stay long at the Kmart job because fairly soon I had a better offer for more money and hours that would work with my junior year school schedule. I began to work part-time at a local fruit market and there I stayed until my second year of college. It was family-owned and I should have known then that I was definitely not made for the corporate world. I'll share more about that later though. Again, I was discovering that I liked the personal connection with customers and with my co-workers. It can not be said of me that I have ever been shy. My demeanor was then and still is "I am who I am in Christ and I like the person I am". Even though teenagers usually experience some sort of self-esteem issues, mine never really went beyond "I sure am skinny, my nose is a little sharpish and I hate my teeth." It never really affected me to the core of my heart. Of course, having a family who constantly told me how beautiful I was did help a great deal. Not to mention the fact that my sweet Mom worked an evening job in our cold basement to pay for my orthodontist treatments. Thank you, Mama!
Stressing inner beauty and matching outer behavior really made an impact on me at a young age and I've been careful to pass that on to the young ladies I've been able to reach. Of course, I did struggle from time to time but I'm grateful to say it wasn't my biggest issue as a teen. My biggest issue really got moving in the winter of my junior year.
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