Have you
ever wandered into something and wondered, ‘What have I gotten myself into?’
That’s been,
in some ways, the story of my life.
They say babies can sense angels, and while I don’t recall,
I’m sure I’m someone who did…
Born a month
late and having the worst case of jaundice Mom’s doc had ever seen, I came into
the world. My name was Charity. It has since become the original name my
parents were going to give me: Harmony. That day, I got my first three or four
bouquets of roses… among other flowers, the first gifts of my life from human
hearts.
My Grama
didn’t recall my name when a box showed up for me at her house, at the back
gate. All it said was, ‘For Charity,’ and she puzzled a while before realizing
it wasn’t from someone thinking she and Grampa needed some help. Now, she can
laugh at it, but back when it happened, she was mortified she had forgotten.
You see, the reason my name was even Charity instead of Harmony was because the
latter would have been combined with the same middle name she carried… and she
didn’t like it for years. She didn’t want me ‘saddled’ with it. So, what did my
parents do? They thought back to when they were expecting my brother… they had
chosen two names: a boy and a girl. Charity was the girl’s name then… so, they
recycled it and gave it to me.
Makes it
sound special, right? It was, but it didn’t always feel that way. Then, when I
changed my name to Harmony, it was my Mom who couldn’t remember what it was for
the longest time and several others refused to use it. But that’s getting ahead
of the story…
The enemy has been trying unsuccessfully to take me out
since I was born. First the jaundice, and then at one, a neighbor kid with a
tire iron who told Mom he wanted to see what brains looked like… these early
attempts on my life are pretty obvious looking back. ‘There must be something
about this child’, satan thought, and tried to take a bite!
Spiritually speaking, I had been ‘born into’ the church; my
parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles were regular Campmeeting and church
attendees in the Church of God (Anderson), and I followed suit. This set the
stage for a lot of their beliefs which I still cling to, and for upset of other
beliefs that I have since shifted paradigm on, with the help of the Holy
Spirit. The first such clash came at the age of three… before I even knew what
exactly was happening. I was in my rocking chair one day, singing to God. This
was pretty normal for me… music has always been a huge part of my life and
heart from the very beginning. I was singing in English as well as in a prayer
language… I didn’t know that’s what it was called then… but I knew God had
given it to me to speak to Him. Well, one of my parents came into the room and
castigated me for it, telling me I was using the devil’s language. Spiritually
speaking, these are the first fangs I remember coming out from the enemy of my
soul, and he used a parent. God had given me wings, and the enemy took a bite
right through them.
Achy Breaky Heart - Billy Ray Cyrus.
There was a lot of negative talk about people in the media,
and only a few shows and singers were “parent approved.” This went against the
grain with my heart and a belief in God’s love of all people from the start…
some of this was rebellion, some of it was a prayer warrior’s heart. I had what
my friend Lisa calls HIT LISTS… prayer lists for people that were on my heart
in the media. I didn’t write them down, usually memorizing them, and several
are still on that list of prayers. The perspective of my family seemed to be
that people in the media were hopeless if they didn’t already know Jesus Christ
going in, and stick with Him. Now, the story is different, but then, that was
the impression they gave. Then, fangs bit again. I kept the wings, but they
were in hiding.
A month after I turned three, my Dad – who I now call Poppi
– was in an industrial accident that changed the course of our family life
forever. I have only one memory of him prior to this that stands out at all…
one of three or four memories that were prior to the accident. We were at the
Oregon Coast Aquarium. I remember not wanting to touch the anemones – which I
still don’t want to touch – but I was fascinated with the octopus that was in
the tank appropriate to my own height. I reached in gently. I stroked some of
the octopi tentacles. As I went to stroke and pet the beautiful and wondrous
creature, my Dad next to me watching, I heard someone start to scream at me.
Why? “The octopus still has ink in it, you stupid kid!! Get out of there!” My
heart jumped, my hand rocketed out of the tank away from the octopus, and for
the only time in my life that I ever witnessed it and recall, my Dad… came to
my defense. “If there’s ink in the octopus, why is it out here in the petting
area? That’s what’s stupid, not my daughter.” A protected and delicious feeling
overcame me then… I knew without a doubt my Dad loved me… and then he had his
accident.
The accident led to behavior change due to the treatment he
needed. His whole personality became different. I didn’t recognize my own
father, and after a while, didn’t even remember him other than the Octopus
Incident. I still don’t. There is a hint of him being on the boat in the memory
I have of ‘driving’ my uncle’s boat as I sat on his lap at the age of two… but
I really recall the wheel in front of me and my hands there, inside the hands
of my uncle, ‘steering’ down the Columbia River.
With Dad’s accident and the subsequent change in
personality, I felt I had lost my father. Fang bite! That one really smarted!!
Sensitive a child as I was, I felt my wings had been torn asunder and tossed
onto the ground at that point. For years, I did what I could to avoid saying or
doing anything to anger or frustrate my parents, on one hand, but on the other,
I rebelled because of how confused I was; how hurt I was; I wanted my ‘old
Dad.’ I wanted things to stay the way they were before the accident. I wanted
life to be better… not harder. We struggled financially and relationally. I
ended up having to attend alternative schools because of a combination of my
acting out and their thinking I was crazy due to what they now know was fibromyalgia.
You might be asking, well, what happened in school? What
happened in church? What about other family? Was there any support at all?
In terms of family, I spent a lot of time growing up with my
grandparents… sometimes going to the beach and once to Disneyland, Sea World,
and Knott’s Berry Farm. My parents took us (brother, sister and I) to
Vancouver, BC a few times, but I don’t recall those trips. I wish I did.
I had a few friends in the early years. Some better than
others in how they treated me, but each was important to me.
Lindsay was my first best friend. I don’t remember her. I
remember she moved away. I don’t recall having a fit about it and freaking out
that I had been abandoned, or my parents’ response to take me to see her in
Idaho. I remember Idaho. Vaguely.
Shamanna moved in not too long after that, and because we
were neighbors and still small, we became instant friends.
Stay tuned to find out what happened next!!
UPDATE 7/16/13-- COME OVER and check out my FUNDRAISER! Journey to a Thousand Voices...
UPDATE 7/16/13-- COME OVER and check out my FUNDRAISER! Journey to a Thousand Voices...
WOW!!! Yes, indeed the enemy tried to take you out! He is a thief and tries to steal all that we have, including our identity and most of all our DESTINY! He will try to make us DOUBT God... every step of the way! Keep BELIEVING!!! ;)
ReplyDeleteStay tuned for more, because those are just the beginning! Thanks for your reply. :)
ReplyDeleteThe enemy has had a hand in trying to take the human race off the planet in many ways, and when he has a clue there is an especially important DESTINY set upon a person, I believe he tries even harder and becomes a bit less subtle than with some.
Keepin' in believin' and keepin' on stepping into... DESTINY!