When I was a little girl I was surrounded by very successful family members. My aunts were schoolteachers. One even became a college professor. She constantly exhorted me to go to college but never offered any help to do so.
Both my grandfathers ran successful businesses most of their lives. Uncles on both sides were ministers - ranging from staid and straight Lutheran style to the more edgy Pentecostal brand.
One great uncle was a professional football player, later working as a direct assistant to Vince Lombardi for decades, the legendary coach of the Green Bay Packers.
Another uncle had his own microchip company, before the market fell. Yet another owned a motorcycle dealership, where he also sold amphibious vehicles. Some of my cousins were teachers. Another aunt worked as a doctor on an Indian reservation.
My sister has worked for a huge pharmaceutical firm for years. My brother has an enviable position with yet another medical company. My mother worked for the state government. My father though an artist, worked for the Boilermakers' Union, before his passing.
My entire family is well-travelled, having gone to the ends of the earth, it seems. Some of them even lived as international missionaries for years, until politics drove them back to ministry in the United States.
There were also many veterans in my family - giving us all a patriotic and historical perspective.
Both Mom and Dad's families emphasized the importance of education and success.
Dad used to always promise me, "Study hard, and I'll send you to college." But they turned out to be empty words.
My plan was to go to either Columbia or Oral Roberts University to get a double major in Journalism and Psychology. I also dreamed of going to the Sorbonne, since I had taken several years of French.
But it was not to be. I was accepted at Columbia, Temple, and Edinburgh Universities, but my parents suddenly divorced, which put an end to my aspirations. Even with a teacher's promised help to get a scholarship, the money equation didn't work out.
My rebellion against the Lord for a few short years took its toll, as I struggled against loss of home, loss of family, lack of food, poverty, and the disappearance of all that I held dear.
My parents remarried and started new lives, new children, new homes, and rarely gave me a second's thought. There were no cellphones nor internet back in the late 1970's, with which to stay in touch.
After being driven by circumstances to repentance, and back into the Lord's Arms, I eventually ended up going to a two-year Bible college. I lived on five dollars worth of vegetables a week, from a farmer's co-op. In my few spare hours I held down a part-time job at K-mart.
Eventually, the overwhelmingly restrictive rules, the Spartan living quarters, (four bunks to one small bedroom), being bound to campus during non-working hours, and not being able to pay for my tuition - drove me into a low-paying career as a travel agent.
I was strictly on my own, and forced to survive on my own resources, of which there were few. I didn't even own a car for many, many years.
From there my life took a nosedive downward, and has recovered only periodically for the rest of the duration.
More than once, if not for the Lord, I found myself in situations that could easily have cost my life.
I ended up raising a child on my own, working several jobs at a time to do so. Putting a roof over his head, providing food, clothing and entertainment, was never easy. Sometimes I had to rely on friends to babysit while I worked at low-paying jobs, struggling to pay rent, without the benefit of child support.
I can't honestly say that my faith never wavered. At times it did. I can't say that I was always thankful. At one point before my divorce from an abusive husband, the only thing we could afford from the grocery store was toilet paper, not even food. To this day I remember how it felt, walking into that grocery store, surrounded by walls and shelves of food, but unable to purchase anything to eat.
For several years after my son left home - much to my chagrin - I was finally able to afford more comfortable dwelling places, but never quite able to buy a home of my own.
I took real estate classes, and got several real estate licenses. Fortunately I finally managed to reach a bare bones level of success, relative to all I had experienced in my young adult years.
Intermittent illnesses would unfortunately intervene and eat up any spare income.
After several years of working sixteen hour days, 24/7 on call night and day, the economy crashed. Jobs were like precious jewels, rarely to be found, even for those with bachelor and master's degrees. Many former advanced professionals worked at McDonalds and Taco Bell.
Homeless people filled the streets. Waiters and waitresses were former Wall Street traders and bonds market brokers.
I went back to a short-term school to redefine myself. From analyzing security vs air conditioning building issues on tall structures, I fell to the depths of cleaning feces and blood off of floors, after changing adult diapers on invalids.
The contrast was great. I missed the technical problem solving as I turned my mind to carefully placing pillows under the body of stroke victims, or working with them on their water-borne physical therapy exercises. This I did for ten hours a day, six days a week, no holidays or overtime pay.
The work was just as hard or harder than climbing iron ladders and lifting myself up to building rooftops, to examine and program air conditioning units. Holding up the body of a male adult for nursing purposes, is no small task. But the pay was less than half as much as I had been making.
Yet I was FINALLY THANKFUL. I was working again!
No more long waits in lines at churches for a few bags of dried beans and spaghetti. No more wandering from office building parking lot to the next, handing out literally hundreds of resumes. No more waiting in line for stale bread and cakes at food handouts.
I was working so many hours for so little pay I was finally able to save up enough to move to another state where unemployment was lower. It was also exciting to think that I would be close to my son again, since he had moved to the state after his stint in the Marines.
So I finally have a steady job. I am thankful. And I'm helping other people. That is satisfying. But I barely make enough to cover rent and bills. And I am not doing what I had hoped to do in life.
My son is angry because I spent so much time working to put a roof over his head. He blames me because he didn't have more than a couple pair of shoes to wear each year while going to school. He didn't have designer clothes or jeans, or a skateboard. He didn't get to do all the things all the other kids were doing. But he was LOVED. For that he is NOT GRATEFUL.
Although I manage to write in my spare time, I'm not able to churn out all the books I have in mind.
But I AM GRATEFUL for the turkey I received as I went to work yesterday, on Thanksgiving, to "minister" to others more lonely, and more ill than myself.
And though I heard nothing from my family at large, who I am absolutely sure were scarfing down huge amounts of turkey, dressing, and sweet potatoes... I am grateful.
I get to have a long weekend off. My own free turkey is in the oven right now roasting. I can smell the browning scent as it wafts into the living room.
I have two hands to write with. Two eyes to see with. Two legs to stand on. I still have my teeth. I can eat regular food and don't have to have my food ground up like baby-food.
My electric works to cook the turkey in the oven, and powers the heat which staves off the cold outside. I have running water, (though not good to drink). I can still buy bottled water. I even have instant mashed potatoes, instant stuffing, and cranberry sauce.
And YES. I AM TIRED. But I have paper and pen, and a computer to write. Access to the internet, and a way to broadcast my message... Even though my ministry doesn't even support the cost to have a ministry website.
www.lightpointministries.com CLICK FOR LINK
I still have my God, Jesus Christ. The one and Only True and Living God. Heaven forbid that I be like the other nine lepers who didn't realize from where their healing came. They didn't take time to return and give Him thanks. (Luke 17:12 ).
No matter how little we have, or how impossible it seems - if we are still breathing we can STILL MANAGE to FIND SOMETHING TO THANK GOD FOR.
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