Christian Living

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“Stupid girl! Stupid girl!” I heard it so much from my oh-so-loving father as a kid, that I thought stupid was my first name, girl was my middle, and Belinda my last name. Oh, I had dear old dad figured out by the time I was in junior high. He was drunk most of the time. And when he drank, whooo weeee, you didn’t want to be around for the aftermath. When he was on one of his drinking binges, he’d come home and all hell would break loose! Not only was he verbally abusive, but he used his fists on his kids like you’d use a machete in the jungle. Anyone who got in his way, got knocked down. And I always seemed to be in his way.

But like I said, I figured him out. When he’d been gone for a day or two, I always knew that he’d be back soon and he’d be drunk. So I’d go and hide in the basement. It was a damp, dreary place to have to spend much time. And spider webs were all over the place. Sometimes I’d hide there for a couple days. It could be pretty scary, but not a scary as my dad, so it was worth it. And I knew that he’d never find me there, because he about broke his neck once, when he fell down those stairs after drinking. It’s pretty amazing what a person can remember, even when they’re drunk.

Even though he called me stupid, idiot and every other derogatory word his pickled brain could come up with, I had a feeling that he was wrong. And even though he was a mean, nasty alcoholic, in my own way, I still loved him. Call me dippy, but I wanted to prove to him that he was wrong about me. That I wasn’t stupid, that I could make something of my life. And I was determined. So I worked hard, and it wasn’t easy for me, but I did make it through school. I graduated with my high school class of 1978 and I promised myself at that time, that I would go to college. I had a passion to help other kids like myself.

After high school, I got a job sewing zippers into tents. It was tedious work, and I worked eight to ten hours a day. I saved all the money I could for college. And I began going to night school. It took me twelve years. And so many times I just wanted to throw in the zipper and give up. But there was something in my heart. It started as a tiny seed when I was a little girl. My grandma used to pray with me. And she would tell me what a blessing I was and how God had a great purpose for my life. She would say, “No matter what, never give up.” Her words were what carried me through those twelve years. And I’m proud to say, I graduated in the top 5% of my class with a PhD. in Sociology.

Now I’m doing the work that God has called me to. And in comparison, sometimes those college years would seem like a blissful retreat. I work with all kinds of cast-away kids like myself. But it’s so much harder for kids now-a-days. It’s not just skipping school and butting against authority, but these kids have low or no self esteem, no positive role models, and no reason to strive for a better life. Most don’t even believe that a better way of life is possible. So they turn to drugs, alcohol, sex, you name it, they’ve done it!

My heart just breaks for them. I spend an enormous amount of time with these kids, but so many of them are unreachable and can only be handled with prayer. God has really laid a burden for them on my heart, the ones that are the most challenging. The hardest to reach are the ones I’m drawn to, the ones that I just can’t seem to get out of my head.

Oh, they’ve made it tough. They’ve called me every name in the teenage manual. They’ve run away just when I thought I was getting somewhere with them. They’ve stolen from me, gotten into fights, gotten expelled from school. They would make it easy, but I just cant give up on them. They need Jesus so badly.

I know that God gave me the gift of compassion. And He’s given me abilities that are to be used for the purpose of helping these kids. I have a mission and if I give up, which I’ve considered on several occasions, I would not only be failing God, and the kids, but I would be failing myself. If only one of these kids is helped, if only one chooses the high road, if only one comes to know the savior: than I will consider all the years of heartache, tests and turmoil pure joy.

I have to pass on to these kids what my Grandma passed on to me; love, prayer and compassion, and “No matter what, never give up!”

Sometimes it’s been difficult, because God saw fit for me to be born without legs. But He gave me so much more in the way of love and perseverance that I never missed them. I believe the verse in James 1:2 through 4 that says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish it work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (NIV)

I’m looking forward to the last verse. I know that when I get to heaven I will have those missing legs. I just hope I can figure out how to use them.

D. Lynn Bates © August 9, 2004

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