Well here we go: How do our attitudes and how we were brought up as children affect us as we grow (Becoming What I Came To Be)? Some things we come to understand naturally, but some things we do not. We have to learn them; sometimes the hard way.
I don’t remember much about when I was small, but I know I was born in Newton, Iowa. And one memory I do have from that time is that my grandma lived on our property in her own little cottage. I’d traipse down there often and she would usually grab a milk carton out of the freezer and pour me freezing cold milk that tasted so awesome – along with cookies, of course!
Grandma always seemed to greet me with a smile whenever I went down to see her. She was so very kind, showing the love towards me that is talked about in Colossians 3:12.
But unfortunately her kindness didn’t rub off on me…
As a matter of fact, it seemed as I grew I was turning out just the opposite. Even when we moved to Seattle when I was 5 years-old and finally made some friends, I’d usually think of “me” first. Yes, I loved my friends. But I often felt the urge to be better than they were.
In hindsight through the years, I think a lot of it came from my insecurity. I always wanted to be popular, but wasn’t. I had to wear clothes I hated, and my mom would cut my bangs really short. I was dorkness intensified. And, since I was shy, it was hard for me to make new friends in school. I always felt like an outcast.
During parent-invited class parties in grade school, I used to hate for my mom to attend (dad was usually working). Mother hadn’t given birth to me until her mid-30s, and to me she just looked so old compared to the other moms. I’d get embarrassed.
As I got into middle school things got worse. We had by then moved to a city where everyone seemed to be rich except us. A lot of my classmates were from a totally different culture than I was. I felt like I was sinking more into “Loserville” every day. So I started hanging out with a group of kids who taught me all about drinking alcohol, drugs, sex and skipping school. Since I had no money and hated babysitting, I soon also learned the fine art of shoplifting – it was so easy!
When I got to high school things were even more horrible…
I constantly fought the urge to be “popular.” I wanted to fit in desperately with the classmates who got invited to all the cool parties and hang out with the jocks.
Of course I certainly wasn’t the only self-proclaimed misfit, so I began befriending some of the other misfits – but only because they had something I wanted. It could’ve been to become acquainted with another friends of theirs, a cute brother they had, or because they were richer than our family. I wanted them to invite me to go with them on vacations where I could escape the realities of home life where things weren’t going well – especially since dad had suffered a mental breakdown and had disappeared from our lives in my early teens.
But once I got what I wanted from these new friends, I’d start being mean to them – dumping their friendship and gossiping behind their backs. Even when I dropped out of school and got my first real job at 17 years-old, I still would always look to how I could incorporate myself into someone’s good graces, because they had something I wanted.
It was a vicious cycle, but I got pretty good at it. Unfortunately I don’t remember ever feeling bad about it, either. Life was all about me, myself and I. Exhibiting my grandma’s loving acts of kindness never even entered my mind.
As a matter of fact, it took many, many years before I learned how to be kind. God had to teach me, and it was slow work.
Next week I’ll be talking about forgiveness. That wasn’t in my vocabulary either!
The God Of All Comfort 