The Bondage Breaker...Part 1

I don't write this to toot my own horn.  I am usually an open book about my failures and struggles so that maybe someone else that is experiencing the same might find hope in what I have been though, and especially in Christ.  Something has changed in me in the past few months...and I just want to share.

I didn’t grow up in a Christian home.  Not that that is special or even very unusual.  Many people can say this.  I grew up in a home that was loving, strong, independent, and, unfortunately, enabling.  I have two older brothers and sisters.  I am nine years younger than the others.  I was pretty spoiled, and my parents had a lot of money.  Now, don't misunderstand me.  I was 100% responsible for my actions...but my parents should have been tougher on me.  It's hard to be loving and strict at the same time!

All through school, and I didn’t know it at the time, but I had some sort of learning disability.  I had a hard time keeping up with everyone else.  I would start each year with an, "I can do it this time," attitude and expectation, only to fall behind after about a week and lose hope. I did really well in a few classes, but only if the teacher was excellent, liked me, and kept me interested.  Almost all of the teachers would write the same thing in my report card:  "Very smart, but doesn't apply herself."  The truth was that I was just so lost.  I would get confused about one area, and wouldn't be able to move on until I understood it.  Most teachers would just shrug me off and leave me behind, partly because of the "crowd" I hung out with. I didn't blame them.  I decided to concentrate on what I was good at:  Looking good and partying hard.

Me at age 16 wearing some goofy 80's rock outfit.  I was at a wedding, I think.  Yep, that's my drink, I had a cigarette going, and those are my stoned eyes.

I made many wrong decisions.  I was able to sweet-talk my way into or out of almost anything.  I started partying at age 13.  It started with smoking cigarettes, then pot, moved on to drinking, and finally on to drugs such as cocaine, mescaline, and acid.  I was extremely disrespectful towards my parents...IF they tried to stop me from doing what I wanted.  I would sneak their car out at night (that's how I learned to drive), have parties when they went on trips, lied like crazy, you name it.

I was saved in 1989.  My boyfriend at the time was an active Christian, and one day I asked him if I could go to church with him.  That day changed my whole belief system.  I knew that I wanted to know Jesus and everything He stood for.  This was what I had been searching for.  This was the true love that I thought I would never find.  I sat there crying my eyes out in that church, listening to what seemed to be a message directed right at me about how hopeless a life without Him really was and He loved us so much that He came to earth, was beaten, and then willingly went to be nailed to a cross…for us…for ME?!

Unfortunately, the old lifestyle continued.  No one at the church I went to, which was different from the church I went to with the boyfriend (who actually broke up with me on the day I was baptized…hahaha…it’s okay, he was right in his convictions and we stayed good friends) really showed me what being a Christian was.  I was about 21, so I attended some events with the young adults and attended one of their retreats.  No one even spoke to me.  I wasn't bitter, but felt like something must be wrong with me.  Maybe because I hadn't grown up a believer, I wouldn't be accepted?  I started reading my Bible, but after a while I got frustrated and just stayed with the life and friends I had.

Fast forward to the fall of 2011.  I attended church off and on thought the years and had been a steady attender since 2000.  I knew I was truly saved and had learned a lot more.  I was (am) quite happily married with six children that meant everything to me.  Still, something wasn't right.  Something was incomplete.  I was one of those “roller coaster Christians,” and it was becoming increasingly frustrating.

My life basically went like this:  I got the urge to party in some way, be it drinking or drugs.  I would drink or do the drugs.  I would feel guilty and then become depressed about what I had done. I would stop the drinking and/or drugs.  I would get back into the Bible and feel great about being close to Him again.  After a few weeks, those feeling would start to fade.  A few months later, the scenario would start all over.  I really believed that I would never break free from this horrible cycle, and I just couldn’t understand why the Lord was putting me through this repeated defeat…why I wasn't being set free from it, or why I wasn’t strong enough to overcome it by just saying, "Enough."

(To be continued…)