The Big Move

I moved to the junior high on the hill with some trepidation; I had heard stories … most of them grossly exaggerated, but some of them true.  Students had five minutes to change classes in maze of students and hallways; anyone who was tardy was kept 15 minutes after school for the first tardy. I never found what happened for subsequent tardiest.  Then there was ROOM 4 … the detention room for perpetual rule breakers or those who even dared to bring chewing gum on to school premises … yes those where the days. In addition, we actually had a dress code. Girls had to wear dresses or skirts or slacks with tunic tops; boys wore slacks and collared shirts.  It was a tough year.  About mid-year, my parents informed me that we were moving … not very far, but it would mean a change in schools and a change in churches.  I was not overly sad to leave the school and I was just beginning youth group; so the change was not overly traumatic.   We moved to a neighboring county. I am not sure why we made the choice.  I do know that it was in God’s plan.  The first house we built we built did not seem to fit our family’s needs.  The unique thing about our property was that backed up exactly to the land owned by the church we had chosen to attend. We had built our house in proximity to the church.  About that same time, the church added an additional staff person … a youth pastor and needed an additional parsonage. Because of the location of our property, the deacons approached my parents and asked if they would be willing to sell the house and land.  When my parents asked my opinion,  I told them yes, but only if they could get me closer to the church than we already were --- now that was a monumental request seeing we lived three doors from the church.  The only available property  was an unoccupied barn, owned by a man who people would said would never sell … but God moved on his heart and he sold us his barn, we converted it into a house. My schooling remained a problem … I ended up in a small Christian school for one year … a school that confirmed me in my externalism that Jesus loved me for my good behavior… that I had to try really hard to keep Him happy. I came away with an aura of pride that I was better than those girls who wore short skirts and listened to certain kinds of music … this was the 1970’s. I wanted Jesus and my parents to be proud. It was not until years later in Bible College I came across the verse in Titus 2 “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us…” and it was not until well until into my adult years that its meaning gripped my heart.  I longed for a  real relationship with Jesus and my parents, but I was so busy with my legalistic lists trying to impress and earn their love when they just wanted me.  Now I grieve at what I lost … At least I still have Jesus.  And nothing is lost or wasted or in His hands.