The thunder woke me up

This is the speech I gave for my 1st Toastmaster's Ice Breaker speech.

The thunder woke me up. Then the alarm clock went off. The announcer said it was currently 52 climbing to a high of 78, with sunshine. FINALLY a break from the rain.

As I lay there I thought back to a conversation with a friend about positive thinking. I told her some people see the rain and think, “Yuck, what a dreary day.” Others get excited because the rain brings life. “So how are you going to view difficulties? As life giving healing or YUCK?”

Personal experience is a tough teacher.

As a child of 7, I was given the news that my mom had cancer. The memories are vague. I had already been in 4 schools and I was only in 1^st grade. Some of the moving around came when I would spend weeks at Grandma’s because mom was sick. The day in second grade when I got off the bus and all the cars of all my relatives were in the driveway, I knew something was bad. Every one had been at the hospital that week as the end came near.

Three days later, on my 8^th birthday, we buried my mom. My dad must have known the end was near and knew he couldn’t deal with it because 3 weeks earlier he had picked up the monthly checks from the post office, dropped me off at the babysitter and never ever returned.

During that 3 weeks a lot happened. My Aunt Mary in Ohio called the pastor of a Baptist church in our hometown of Quitman, AR and expressed her fear that the end was near and her beloved sister-in-law didn’t know Christ. He came, she received. Though I don’t have clear memories, on the day of her funeral, I knew she had “gone to a better place.”

During that 3 weeks, I guess they realized even if he came back, Dad probably couldn’t handle raising me. Mom changed her will so that her brother Jim and his wife Mary would become my guardian. Years later another relative shared that mom believed Uncle Jim was the only one who could not only provide for me physically, but would love me as much as she did.

On that Sunday in April after the funeral, I didn’t know that’s why she gave custody to Jim. I just knew that my dad was gone & my mom was dead. As family members gathered after the funeral I rocked back and forth on the porch swing thinking, “Now what am I going to do?”

That day an 8-year-old girl became an adult. An adult without experience, perspective, or maturity. I believed lies that would stay with me for over 20 years. I decided I couldn’t count on anyone but me. I was the only one that wouldn’t let me down. Trust no one fully. Rocking back and forth, many family members walked by and wished me Happy Birthday and gave me money. By the end of the day I think I had decided that money was supposed to make you feel better because my family had given me $28.50. Now my pain had a price.

Years later my counselor would ask, “What does the little girl on the porch swing think?” She would tell him what she thought because she knew the harsh realities of life. She would tell him the truth because she was very grown up and extremely cynical. I struggled to be someone besides the girl on the porch swing.

Fast forward 16 years. I was married, had a 3 year old daughter and a 9 month old son. And it was late April. And I was tired. My husband, Barry was about to finish his degree. We had just survived his senior year that started with the birth of my son, included working 40 hours and taking 15 hours of classes and my promotion to Mary Kay Sales Director. I had spent the last 2 years believing that if I just attained the next level, I would be OK. Here I was and I was not OK. I hadn’t stopped crying for about 4 days. The rain had come.

I went to have lunch with my senior Director and friend, Liz. I stopped crying long enough to get out of the car and get into the restaurant, but about 5 minutes later I was crying again. Why? I don’t know. We tried to check me into a local mental health hospital but they wouldn’t take me because I didn’t have insurance. I was nearly hysterical. Liz knew a pastor at my church and called him at home. He hooked me up with the right community pastor, who made a couple of calls and got me in the next day to see a counselor.

After about the second visit I was driving and I said to God, “Ok, I’ll do the work, I’ll do my part, I’ll show up, I’ll talk about what I’m supposed to talk about, I’ll look at the lies I’ve believed, I’ll do whatever it takes. But not just for me. It’s not worth this much pain to heal just for me. I want you to do your part. Just like glass has to be heated to really hot temperatures to be able to be formed, I want you to make this process as hot, and horrible, and as fast as necessary. And in the end I want you to form me into a beautiful glass pitcher that You can use to pour out Your love on to other people. That will make it worthwhile for me to endure this pain.”

That first visit began what would be 10 months of weekly visits followed by 3 months of bi-weekly then monthly visits. God answered my prayer that day. It was by far the hardest 13 months of my life worse than the pain I’d experienced because I had to relive 24 years of pain in 13 months.

Today I stand before you 11 years after that first visit, healthy, whole and still on the journey. I now have 3 beautiful children, Sami, 14, Josh 11, and Lexi, 9. They are some of my favorite people in the world. God has blessed me with a marriage where I am still very much in love as we come to our 15^th anniversary. God honored my request and has used me over and over to pour out His love onto others. Madam Toastmaster. Than you.