Knower

     I have always been a "knower". This is how I describe the working of a gift of discernment. With this gifting I "knew" people, places, and things to avoid. My mom drug us from church to church around our metro area to look for a body of believers to be a part of. It never ceased to amaze me what kids would say about what they didn't understand. At one church, My sister and I went downstairs to Sunday school then children's ministry following. The teacher asked us to share about our family and being the well adjusted child I was I spoke about my family. "Well, I have two Dads and two Moms, two brothers, and two sisters. I am the middle of 5." My description of my family was to the horror of the people present. It wasn't until the following week another child attending the ministry informed me we could not be friends, because if she was friends with me then her parents would catch the "disease" that caused my parents to be divorced. (And it must have been from us kids!) From that comment on as long as we went to this small church my sister and I were separated and isolated like quarantine. Even as young as I was I knew it was ignorance, much later I recognized the fear fueling her young comment.

     From there we church hopped for what seemed like eons. In reality it was somewhere between six months and 18 months of new churches and new rules and new friends. One Wednesday night I ended up in a youth group. I knew no one and the kids were rowdy. I was not a rowdy child! About the time I was talking myself into giving up and going upstairs to sit with my mom, a vivacious girl came up to me and over the roar of the room said, " Hey I'm Stacey, I have to go do something but you have to sit with me." she walked me over to the folding chairs and sat me down next to her stuff. Before the service started Another girl came up and introduced herself and sat on my other side. I felt obligated to inform them I was from a divorced family, and they laughed. "Everyone here has something going on in their family" Stacey replied. Before the end of the night they had spoken with their van driver and already ok'd picking me up on the other side of town so I could come back Sunday Morning.

    That night I bounded to our minivan and informed my mother, "This is my church and you can go wherever you want to but I'm going here from now on." She was shocked, and after assuring her and confirming my plans to ride the church van if need be, she was convinced. From that day early into my 6th grade year through my early 20's that was my church home. I cannot explain the peace I had and the determination that rose up in my heart once I knew this was my church home.

What does love look like?

In my life I have watched love be tainted and perverted but in spite of every wrong example I still believe in love. Call me a die hard hopeful, but I still dare to try.

Let me back up a little bit and start from a several years ago.

       I was a normal child in a divorced and blended family, well adjusted and living in a small city in the Midwest. After hearing Kenneth Copeland speak on my television screen, I gave my young life to the Lord right there on my living room floor. At some point before someone could talk me out of it, or explain "that these things don't just happen" I began to hear the Lord speak to me. It was a very gentle voice that would talk to me about whom to befriend, and other daily living things. I remember the Elementary School I went to had an incredible number of immigrants, for the Midwest, and the Lord would talk to me about befriending the ones he sent me to. When I looked at them he would show me that they were important to Him and it was integral they understood they were loved and accepted even when I didn't speak the same language. Even at this young age my heart was being formed and molded to love the ones He gave me.