The little girl would sit at the top of the stairs, peering through the banister railings. The ladies were so pretty in their long gowns. There was dancing, and drinking, and everyone was so happy. Her Daddy would play his banjo, and she would sing her little songs: that he had taught her. She would remember the Shirley Temple movies. She was so loved, and her life childhood was just perfect.
That little girl was me. My daddy was saved listening to an Evangelist, on the radio, when I was about 7 years old, and Mamma came to know the Lord shortly after that. My life completely changed. My parents aligned themselves with a very legalistic group, and it was three times a day, on Sunday, and every time the church doors opened we were there. One night, after listening to a Hell Fire sermon, I came home, and went to bed: but I was scared to death. What if Jesus would come in the night? I would be all alone, and worse then that: go to Hell, and be burned up. So I slipped from my bed, got down on my knees, and asked Jesus to come into my heart. I can only say, that to this day, I vividly remember that something different had happened to me, and I will always claim that, at the time, He became my Savior: but I did not make Him my Lord until 43 years later.
Even though I was just a kid: I hated the fact that I couldn’t go to the movies with my little friends. I was born in London, but we lived in Lambeth, and if you didn’t go to the Anglican, or the United Church, you were some kind of an odd ball: as far as my school mates were concerned…… this was the root of my rebellion.
We moved to London, when I was 13, and I entered South Collegiate. Once again I felt out of the loop. I couldn’t wear lipstick, or nail polish, and was not allowed to associate with non-believers. I discovered boys, and made up my mind that I would do what I wanted to do in spite of anything my parents said. I ran away at age 15, but was summarily brought back. It was then I decided that I would leave home, and do my own thing as soon as I was 16. Leaving school, after the 11th grade, I went to work for the Bell Telephone Company, and moved in with a girl friend. Now I was free to do whatever I wanted, and I certainly did just that.
I met a returned Vet, fell in love (or so I thought), and I ran off with him, eloped and my parents didn’t even know where I was for many months. When we did return to London I was expecting my daughter, and life was a struggle for us financially. I was not happy, and told my Daddy I wanted to come home, but he told me I had made my bed: now I had to lay in it.
We moved to Windsor, and lived with his parents for a while: but when that became unbearable we got on a bus, and went to Orillia. My husband got a job, and I waited for my baby to be born. We left Orillia shortly after her birth, and went to Sarnia to live. To this day I do not remember any reason for these moves, but I would go along with whatever seemed to be the thing to do at the time. We lived there for about three years, and one day after doing the laundry I went to put it away, and my husbands clothes were all gone, from the closet…. He had left us. I turned to my family, and they helped me out: until I got a job. Shortly after his disappearance I found out the police were looking for him, and I felt the only thing I should do would be get a divorce.
After applying for legal aid, my Attorney informed me that he had discovered my husband had another wife, and three other children, and if I wanted my daughter to be legitimized I would have to seek the courts for an annulment. Now this was 1955 and it was important, not only to me, but my family: that things should be made right, so I received the annulment, and I went about my merry way of life. Drinking, smoking, parties…..fun, fun, fun. It was at this period, in my life, that I would meet the next man I would marry. He was stable, had a home bought, and paid for, and a good job, and I was tired of trying to work, bring up my little girl, and never having enough money. So with security in mind I married him.
Within two months I knew I had made another wrong choice, but decided that I would stick it out. I didn’t want the family to be saying, I told you so, again. This union lasted thirteen miserable years. He was an abuser, and I finally left him: but I took him back when he started to go to church with me, and professed to be saved.
Deb was now at Mount St Joseph’s Academy, I was working for the Provincial Court Criminal Division. We had a new home, but I literally lived upstairs, and he lived down. My whole life became my job, and my daughter. I worked all day, and he would work until 12, or 1, AM. We were like ships that passed in the night: I was not happy, but was going to hang in there no matter what.
One day, while at work, the Point Edward Chief of Police came to my office, and informed me my husband was cheating. He gave me times, names etc, and this was the out, I was looking for. I moved out, with my furniture, and my car, and life resumed the same pattern it had been: before I met him.
Deb was 17, by this time, and we would have, what I thought was, a good time together…… how wrong I was. Four months, after I left my husband, he took his own life, so now I was a widow, and not only that: I was financially secure, for the first time in my life (at least that is what I thought). I went about my merry way, taking some nice trips, and once again more fun, fun, fun.
One year later: enter the Texan. Wow! Talk about being swept off your feet. I became Dorothy, and he would take me to Oz. I married him three months later, and for the next six, and a half, years we traveled all over the world. We lived in the Orient, South America, the Middle East, Western Canada, plus various States.
I knew that drinking was a way, of life, in the construction business, but I chose to ignore that my husband had a problem: in this area of his life. He was kind, and loving, and very generous, not only to me, but my family.
Finally, after nine years of travel, we came back to Texas: to settle down, and he looked for work at home. But, by this time, the drinking had become a serious problem, and the word got out about him. I took out American citizenship, and got a job, with the Courts, in Texas. I wasn’t pleased with my husband’s drinking problem: but he was a happy drunk, or simply would go to bed, so I kidded myself into thinking if he wasn’t really hurting me so what?
It was at this period, in time, the Holy Spirit began to really work in my life. I was angry that I was now the breadwinner, and he was spending, my hard-earned money, for booze. I started to go back to Church, and encouraged him to go with me, and I told him there would be no more money for Vodka.
I met a woman, who was going to a charismatic church, and she encouraged him to go to her church. At this point I decided I could handle that, so I went with them. However there was no visible change in my husband, and I knew he was getting his alcohol from somewhere.
My life totally fell apart, about a year later, when I found out my friend was not only buying him his drinks, but she had been sleeping with him all along. So after nine years, of marriage, I left and sued for divorce. I kept going to Church, and I finally asked the Lord to take back my life. I repented, for my past, and the Lord, with all His love, opened his arms to this prodigal.
My daddy’s prayers were finally answered; he had never stopped praying, for me, all those years. I remember telling the Lord I was willing to do anything for Him, but would He please keep men out of my life, but He had other plans for me.
At age 50 I met my Keith. He was 10 years older than me, and had been saved about 8 years previous: while he was in recovery, from alcohol, at the Salvation Army Rehab Center in Houston. When we met it wasn’t hats, and horns, but he became my best friend. We both worked for the Courts, and our backgrounds were very similar.
One year later we married. We went to Memorial Baptist Church, where he was baptized. I can truly say the Lord gave me the most wonderful 10 years, of my whole life, with him, We put God first, in our lives, and we were so blessed.
At age 60 I retired, and we returned home, to Canada, to retire. He was diagnosed, with Alzheimer’s disease, a few months later. We attended Central Baptist, here in London, until Keith entered Parkwood Hospital: where he would remain for 5 long years, until the Lord took him home in 1998.
My story has been long, and rather sordid, but if it encourages, just one person to never stop praying: for the unsaved in your lives, it will be worth it all.
Always remember: when God is going to do something wonderful, He begins with a difficulty: but when He is going to do something extra ordinary, He begins with impossibility.
