Journey to New Heights

Journey to New Heights
We need a heart for the lost

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The next chapter

Berwyn was a good move for my family. In those days Berwyn didn't have paved roads, there was no traffic, and the kids could play out in the dirt and no one bothered them. My home was small and cozy. I had no indoor plumbing and no hot water but it was good to have a place of my own.  My one brother and his wife moved down the street from me. It was a different kind of life. We lived next door to a little church and were there every time the door opened. Life was good I no longer lived in fear.

The twins were three when I started having health problems. I had decided I needed to lose weight so I went on diet pills. I got a job working for my father at Mid Nebr. Mental Retardation Services as a secretary. The twins went into a new day care he had recently opened for special needs children. My kids were borderline hyperactive so they qualified. Things were looking up and I had actually dated a few times. The state took over the program my father started and told him I could no longer work there.(because I was his daughter) My doctor decided I was depressed (which I was) and started me on meds.

I became so ill I was unable to function. I had a migraine that lasted over a month and I was unable to keep even water down. I ended up hospitalized. My doctor feared I had a brain tumor so I was sent to Lincoln.
My parents told me goodbye knowing they might not see me again. It was the first time I remember my father telling me he loved me. I was so afraid but when I found out that I didn't have a tumor and would have to learn to live with the constant pain is when I really lost it. They sent me home on seventeen pills a day. I couldn't do anything but lay around. I would get so confused that one day I took all my meds at one time. I called the doctor and he told me to get help because I was about to go to sleep. I slept for two full days. I got up and through all my meds away. I started to get better then.

I entered a rehabilitation program. They sent me to Grand Island, got me a house, got me a job, and promised to get me some training. That went pretty well at first but I ended up having to get my wisdom teeth pulled and then I got dry sockets so I ended up on some heavy duty drugs. Two days before Christmas I had a grand mal seizure. When I came to I didn't know anyone, I didn't know who I was, or where I was. My brother came and got me and the kids and took us to my parents. I was sent to Omaha. After weeks of tests, prodding, and poking they found out I was allergic to medications, all of them. I could take Tylenol of Iburofen and that was all.

When I was released I found that my parents had moved me into Broken Bow. I had a low income house and the kids were already back in school. I was able to find a job. Things were looking up. I made some friends and was going to counseling. Things were good.

My counselor told me my problem was that I kept all my emotions bottled up inside. I need an outlet. I need to go out at night be with adults. I need to have some form of sexual release and then he asked me out. So began a routine. I would go out on weekends with the girls. I didn't sleep around though. I went to church I knew that was wrong, right? Going to the bars didn't help though so soon I fell in love with a cowboy. Not a good thing. You don't meet good men in bars. Did you know that? People in bars don't want to be preached at either. Did you know that? If you have a chance to stand up and preach in the bar wearing a low cut dress with a miny skirt I would advise against it.  Come to find out I am allergic to alcohol too.

In 1976 I found out I was pregnant. It was a low blow. I was a Christian right? Things like that couldn't happen. I was so ashamed to tell my parents that I had my nine year old daughter do it and my parents didn't believe her. I wasn't very big and you really couldn't tell. The father would tell me he loved me when he was drunk. He told me he would marry me when he was drunk but he didn't believe it was his when he was sober. He went to dry out at Valley Hope.

The day he came home he came to my house so drunk he couldn't stand up without leaning on the door frame.  I slammed the door in his face. As far as I was concerned life was over. My doctor told me I was to unstable to go through a pregnancy, I need to abort it right away. I refused. I still wasn't right with God but I knew better than to do that. On November 1, 1976 my youngest daughter was born. She was beautiful and I loved her dearly. Maybe God did still care about me.

Why does life have to be so hard for some people? Are some of us so hard headed we just don't get it? Or are some of just so dense we can't see God working in us?

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