Life As I Have Known It

My life in 4 stages:

1. Birth Thru 18 years
Nothing specatular about this part of my life, two main events worth mentioning, My (biological) father gave me up for adoption at the age of 2 yrs to my Dad.
My mom was married to Father for 7 years, then married my Dad. They were married 20 years before his death.
My first love was a boy named Steve. He broke my heart. I vowed never to let that happen again.

2. 18 years to 26 years
After high school I moved to Anchorage, Alaska and stayed with my aunt and uncle. That is where the sowing of the wild oats began.
 And continued.
Without too many sordid details (for the sake of the children), here goes; I decided I was not going to be hurt again, and never  be attached to any thing that could hurt me. (silly me)
My tasty morsel of choice was ‘The Married Man’ and I had many tastes.
I tried ‘drugs’, never smoked or injected anything, but alcohol was my drug of choice, plentiful, available, legal and, hey, I’m from a family of alcoholics.
 I had lots of jobs to keep me busy. I was part of the Alaska Student State Troopers, a division of Explorers and Boy Scouts. I drove around with the officers, took the tests, I was in essence training to be a police officer.
  I worked with the city police, buying drugs from the dregs of society downtown. I was a security guard for numerous companies, armed and unarmed.

I worked at a convention center/sport arena, at building sites, carrying a gun and brandishing an attitude.
I lived in Alaska 3 years, then moved to Olympia, Washington a few months after my aunt and uncle moved there. It was lonely in Anchorage without family.
Then lived 3 years in Olympia, working, playing, very happy to be on my own and doing my own thing, with just enough morsels to keep me content. Of course the guys I hooked up with were idiots and 6 months before my 26th birthday, I decided to call the dating thing quits. Guys were off my list. They were stupid anyway and just a waste of time.
I had moved to Tacoma because of my new job.
I was working at a large clothing manufacturing plant. 2 families owned the company and all the kids worked there, except one of the sons.
He worked at a large airplane manufacturing plant. Softball that always been a big part of my life so when my friend started a co-ed softball team for the company i joined up and this son of the owner also got asked to play.

3. 26 years to 32 years
Now those of you who know me, probably know where this is going….for those of you who don’t. Here goes.
We met a week after my 26th b-day and I knew this one was different, BUT he was married, had been separated for about 1 year and his wife worked at said company that I worked at. We dated, we kissed, we fell in love, we talked about him filing for divorce, we got pregnant.

3 months into the relationship.

 I remember one softball game I was lying out in right field, lying out, in the field crying because I was pregnant and had no idea what to do about it. Crazy stuff then ensued.

Divorce proceedings, the fateful telling of the parents ‘we are pregnant and we lovvvvvvvvvvveeee each other’, the fight over my hubby’s son w/the ex., the having to come to work everyday with the ex stalking me and the future in-laws glaring. Oh what a joy!
My son was born in March and the december before we moved in together. Nothing unusual about the boys birth, besides the fact he was and is the most beautiful thing God ever created! I’m biased, Im sure. I turned 27 the week before his birth.
So, ok, before this gets too long winded. He was born, I got depressed, it probably started with the post partum thing, but quickly morphed into depression extreme and the drinking started. I never knew I had a problem with alcohol until the man and boy came into my life.

My life was a wreck for years, actually year 27 to 31. I got a job working for a check processing company, my son must of been about 2 or 3 yo.
 8 months before I was 32 I moved out of our house (our current house actually)
I immediately went back to my old ways, yuck, don’t even really want to think about it.
On my 32nd birthday (in March) I told my babys daddy, I wanted to come home, BUT I needed security, we had to get married.
In April I moved back in and August we got married, in the back yard, with a pastor. Our pastor. Before he was our pastor.
So let me back up here, no I will start another stage.

4. 32 years to 40 years old
Timeline: year 1998
March; declared I wanted to come home
April; moved back home, started talking to this pastor guy about marriage
August; marriage
November; Funny farm
January; baptized with my son
 ok, to the backtrack part, I was working with this angel, Leslie, who among other things, was a saint, not in a catholic sort of way, just an average, put up with the lunacy of a woman 10 years her younger, stealthly talking about God, church and pastor, sort of way.
And we kept running into this pastor guy, while we were in pre-marriage counseling (thats a whole nother story), at the county fair, in the grocery store, etc.

My hubby was going to the church, but I was most of the time too hung-over and/or depressed to go.
Hubby and son loved it. (side note: my hubby grew up catholic, went to catholic school, but fell away from it after high school and 1st marriage)
I went to church, but not often.
So, married and still wacked out. In Nov. of that year, one incident in particular, after many other similiar incidents, played a major role in the conversion of Kristina.
I reared back to punch my precious 5 year old son for something he had done. I remember it wasn’t anything even that bad, 5 year old stuff, stuff people who are sane would not of even paid attention to.

But I panicked. I called my hubby, told him I was calling Western State, which is the scary, have to be a menace to society to get in there, straight jacket wearing, facility in town.
They told me I wasn’t crazy enough to get a room, so I called the doctor who called the local hospital and told me to go in.
It seams pretty surreal now thinking back about that day, my son and hubby there with me, the orderlies searching my purse, my son coloring at the table, taking me up the back elevator to the 13th floor, actually i think its the 7th floor. Being there for 7 days. Wanting so bad to just get better.

I was listening to a tape of the pastors sermon and contemplating this christianity thing. (im done capitalizing the I’s)
If I was to believe, i knew i couldn’t ever walk away from it, i had to know EVERY thing about this Christ and God, basically had to be in control of it.
I bet God was laughing but He took my prayers, my confession, He took my self and gave me His Son.
It has been a long slow road to recovery, was on anti-depressants for a few years after that, still drank a little, but went to AA for about 6 months.
Went to counseling. Finally realized I could not drink anymore. Then after a few years i got off the meds. Sin was the driving force that kept me depressed. So that had to be eradicated.

i worked hard, God worked hard, my son and hubby put up with my working hard, my setbacks, my still besetting sins, we all have worked together.

Thank God my hubby has been with me thru this long hard ever-changing Christ following journey.

My son, even thru all the garbage he has been, seen, heard and endured, is the sweetest soul, i still learn lessons of kindness from him.
January of the next year, my son and I were baptized. The rest is history. Life has not been perfect, we are not perfect people, but the grace of God has found its way into our home and we live, not as we had before, but we live for Christ, God’s only Son.

5th stage: 40 years (2003) and going

My life is ever changing, ever growing and never stagnant. There has been times of joy and times of terrible sorrow and tribulation. My God continually surprises me, comforts me and carries me thru all those times in my life. He send friends to remind me of His words and promises to me. He sends storms and enemies to test me and frighten me.

He keeps me nestled in the crook of His hands and why would I ever want to be taken out of those hands.