A fun-filled family-and-friends Fourth of July. Say that ten times fast! That would be easier to do than for me to forget a certain day that changed my life. Time I go back a few years and tell you about one certain Fourth of July thirty years ago was great, or at least I thought it would be. But that one night of fireworks was sure different from all the ones before and all the ones after. As people were having a blast, literally, with fireworks, I asked myself this one certain question that certainly changed my life.
Why is my period a few days late? Hmmm. That couldn’t mean I might be preg. . .
That question stopped halfway through the last word—pregnant. My heart began to pound a bit faster. My thoughts continued. No, I can’t. Pregnant? Could I? No. Please, no. I have plans. I have goals. I can’t be pregnant.
I wasn’t only thinking I might be pregnant, but instantly felt that if I was, I’d then be stereotyped as someone who just doesn’t know what she’s doing, and might be looked down upon by many.
But I’m a Christian. I can’t.
Yep, being a Christian made me feel even worse with the possibility. Twenty-million questions were forming as I faked a smile while watching everyone else having fun.
“Marianne, you want to light this firework?” I was occasionally asked as I sat on one of the picnic chairs.
“No, thanks. You guys are better at that. I’ll just sit here and watch,” while wishing I wasn’t thinking about what I was thinking about.
Even though I was surrounded that Fourth of July night with dear family and friends, those thoughts I was having made me feel totally alone.
The worry I felt that night placed me in the shoes which, sad to say, many go through. But back then, in 1986, I knew very few who had. That night, however, made me begin to realize how even God-fearing Christians can mess up, being that I was, at age nineteen, one of them. An instant new perspective on life began that Fourth of July.
So why am I opening up with this story? To share what God did for and to me through this ordeal, in the hope to encourage others, no matter whats going on. I want my story to help others realize that clinging to Him can help wipe those tears, even while perhaps bringing the best surprises their way. Or even if the tears keep coming, He’s at least holding you, helping you get through it.
My memoir, Titled God and Your Pillow, came out this last spring to show how God carried me in His arms through it all. No easy walk, mind you, but He held me tight throughout.