However, those days are gone. Things have changed. My life has turned completely upside down and yet come completely full circle, back where I should have been all along, and yet all the pitfalls and potholes of travels I have been on these last ten years have made me more or less the "sane" individual I am today.
Ten years ago last January 2nd, 2011, I became a born-again Christian. Now, it wasn't in the ordinary revival meeting way, it was at my home with my stoner boyfriend, where he started talking about peace and hope. He said the name "Jesus" and I saw the peace that I had been searching for all my life.
But, becoming a Christian didn't immediately afford me lasting peace, happiness, and joy. I still struggled with an immense amount of doubt, fear, depression, and anxiety. Sometimes, a daily struggle to get out of bed in the morning.
A year after I became a Christian, I graduated college from Southern Oregon University. More jaded and bitter than when I entered. I entered with dreams of stardom and success as a comedienne/actress/model, and ended up with a BS in Human Communication. (There is a joke there, I swear.) However, this career opened up for me a stint in Jefferson Public Radio, an NPR affialiate. This lasted one quarter when I left thinking newsbroadcasting wasn't for me.
After graduation, I turned my attention to living out of school and trying to eke away at a living. I broke up with the stoner/abusive boyfriend only to jump right away into a relationship with someone with the name of an elite University. This lasted all of three weeks but turned out to be one of the greatest friendships I could have ever asked for. However, this left me heartbroken and shattered. Furthermore, the drug-addicted boyfriend came back into town and swore that we were really meant to be. I was confused, hurt, and just wanted the pain to go away. Also, ashamed of myself for letting myself fall in love to fast into an illicit relationship and thought God would never forgive me. One evening before bible study, I found myself kneeling before the cross, praying for forgiveness, where I once again received the kind of peace that can only be afforded fron on high. However, once again, this was only a temporary fix.
During this time, I was also looking for work but what do you do with a Communication degree and a theater minor? The answer came in the babysitting job I had held during my Senior year in college: teach. I started applying for jobs at local preschools and immediately got hired at a preschool that kept me for about, I don't know, 6 months, when unexpectedly I went in one morning to find my timecard missing and no job to speak off. But, as I was driving all across the valley to all the preschools I could think of, my former boss was calling ahead of me, telling them how wonderful I was. God was in control even in the moments of despair. I ended up walking into the littlest preschool that could, "Lil' Rascals" and was hired on the spot. I worked there for a year and a half and count it as one of the most enjoyable teaching experiences I have have had.
Also, during the year of 2002-2003, I wandered into a coffee shop to escape the lecherous outpourings of the crazed ex-boyfriends. I had always loved coffee shops ever since my time of study in Florence, Italy. It was there that I fell first in lust and then in love, with men of the same name. Both of these men were not Christian but something about their free thinking, openmindedness appealed to my less than evangelical mind. Plus, the taste of coffee mingled with cigarettes on my tongue has always been a turn on.
I spent a year and a half there flying about in my first real hypermanic phase and chasing after my now husband. It was a crazy time of lattes (and yes, multiple lattes) by day and long island ice teas by night. I was in and out of men's beds but never fully committed, and yes, had some sexual imagings about women too. Yes, I'm a good Christian.
The fella to be finally gave in and we dated, for well, about a month before going separate ways. But, hey, yes, he broke my heart into a million pieces. Mysteriously, as every morning I would wake up crying, the song "Arms that won't let go" played on the radio. The chorus goes something like this:
G G/F#
If you need a pillow for your sorrow, If you need a blanket for your soul
If you need a place your broken heart can be made whole
He’ll be your strength to face tomorrow,
And when the night seems dark and cold
Fall into the arms that won’t let go,
Fall into the arms that won’t let go
Fall into the arms that won’t let go
From that time forward, I did not go back to that coffee shop. I avoided all places where
that man would be. Meanwhile, plans were underway for me to go back to school to get some
kind of a teaching credential. Nothing really that I wanted to do, it just seemed like a good thing to do.
Heck, school is interesting, even if life isn't. These plans were pushing me out of Oregon and back to the
dreaded state of Insanity: California. Which also meant, away from him.
A couple weeks before I left, in late June 2004, I went back to the coffee shop. This wonderful man
who captured my heart at first glance and I stood on the front porch of the cafe with our hands over
each others hearts. But, we both stupidly didn't get back together.
Well wishes from my work, a prayer over me at church, parents packing up my scant belongings into the back of their
1990 Ford pickup truck....and then I drove away from the only place I have ever truly called home...as the car drove down I5, the continuous
miles separated me from not just the town; my friends, my children, and, yes, my true love...
The California Dreamin' continues tomorrow...
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