Thoughts of a Young Christian Woman: Faith Is A Funny Thing

You Lead, I'll Follow

When I was about four or five years old, my cousin and I decided to feed my papaw's chickens. He had a garden in the back yard with all kinds of vegetables. We grabbed a plastic bucket from the kitchen that used to be an ice cream pale. For the base layer, we used grass. Then, we grabbed a few veggies from the garden. I don't remember everything we grabbed, but I do remember my cousin telling me to look out for Papaw because we weren't supposed to mess with his garden.

We sat at the picnic table on the back patio, cutting up food for the chickens' "salad". My job was to tear up the peppers. She earned me to not touch anything until I've washed my hands or else it'll burn. After the salad was finished, we rinsed our hands with ice cold water from the pump in the backyard. I thought my hands were completely washed off. I was wrong.

After feeding the chickens, I felt a burning on my cheeks. I don't even remember touching my face. My cousin got a we washcloth and tried to help, but it only soothed the burning for a few seconds. It didn't work so we tried pouring a bunch of water over my face. It didn't work. We were out of options; we had to tell Papaw about the peppers.

I don't remember if he yelled at us at all, but he did say that milk would help. My cousin and I ran to grandma's kitchen and grabbed milk from the fridge. She tipped my head back in the bathroom sink and gushed the milk over my face. Some got in my nose, and all through my hair, but it worked.

My childhood was the best. My family was close and did all kinds of fun, goofy things. And every Sunday we all went to church together. All of us grandkids would ride with Grandma and Papaw and they'd stop at McDonald's afterwards for lunch. I was the only one who got a McChicken sandwich while everyone else wanted burgers.

My husband's childhood was very different. I spent almost every day outside playing. I had Christian parents with strict rules and they were annoyingly involved in everything I did. He was never outside, he was always in his room. He didn't spend too much time with his mom or sisters. He went to church occasionally with his grandparents. He didn't really have rules and did what he wanted. Luckily, he never really got into trouble. One thing we both had in common, we were close to our grandparents. He didn't have big family reunions every year, or even a big family.

My parents married young, his never did. His dad actually passed away when he was young due to lung cancer.

Yes, our upbringings were very different, but our paths still crossed. From the moment we were born, our lives were meant to eventually become one. Despite the differences in our past, we are so similar. Sometimes I wonder if we're the same person. Yet, at the same time, we're complete polar opposites. I think that's what you'd call compatibility. It's a perfect balance of similarities and differences. How is it that my perfect match was born in same country, the same state, and the same generation as me? Out of the billions of people that have lived, do live, and will live on this earth, we still ended up together. Only God can do that.

I had a plan for my life, and I'm sure he did, too, (although it probably wasn't as thought out and thorough as mine). I had always been a loner and never imagined I'd get married at 19 years old. And no, I wasn't pregnant nor did I have any pregnancy scare.

My plan was to go to a Christian College for four years and meet a nice Christian man there and marry him. I never dated as a teenager and would always say that I hoped to "find one and be done." That was the only part of my future plans that actually came to pass.

My plan sounded great. It was God-centered and wasn't anything unreasonable. No matter how good your plan sounds, though, it will never be as good as God's.

Everything about me and my past had pointed me in a certain direction. I thought I knew where it was headed, but God has a funny way of making things happen when they seem impossible.

The same can be said about my husband. The path he was headed on could have led him somewhere far from me. If we never became friends, maybe he would have never accepted Christ into his life.

It's okay to write out a blue print for your life, but remember that nothing is set in ink. Don't be afraid to let God erase some things and retrace some lines. It's human to get upset when things don't go our way, but when we've calmed down and stopped the temper tantrum, hopefully we will put our faith in God. If we follow Him, no matter what happens in life, we know where the journey will end; heaven.