October 1991

Its late. I am trying to fall asleep before Tim gets home. Luke is sleeping on Tim's side of the bed. I lie on my left side, facing the screen doors and look at the shadows on the wall and the curtain blowing gently. The fan is humming on the corner nightstand behind me. I don't like the feel of it on my face. I can't sleep yet. I'm not that tired.

I wonder if I am having deja vu, if maybe I've seen the curtains blow this exact way with the temperature in the room the exact same temperature as some other time before. Maybe the shadows are the same and that is why I am thinking about this night from years ago. I can't think of any reason why bits and pieces of a night years ago would be flickering through my thoughts at this particular moment.

The twins were the younger sisters of my roomate. They lived with her off and on when she was able to support them. They were 15. I was 17. It was 1991 in October.

My roomate was glad I had made friends with her younger sisters. She had confided that her Grandpa had molested her as a child. She thought he might be molesting her sisters too.She was worried about them. She wanted me to check out their living situation. She thought I would pass as one of the twins friends from school.

The door of the trailer made a flimsy sound as it shut behind me. I had on black polkadot stretchpants and a white tee shirt that showed my stomach. It was getting really cold out and I had a weathered brown leather jacket I had borrowed with me.

I didn't want to be there.

I sat on this gold and orange floral couch in the living room and dialed my boyfriends phone number. The younger of the twins warned me to be quiet and whisper because their Grandpa had gone to bed and his room was less than 10ft away.

I waited at the window in the girls bedroom looking for headlights. I contemplated whether to use the window or the front door.

I wonder, every now and then, if he's dead of alive. Maybe its not even me wondering, its probably the girl who is forever 17, waiting for the headlights.

A Woman's Worth, Alcia Keys

I am getting back to normal. I can feel sanity returning to me. Yay sanity! The familiar calm contented feeling is coming back to me, and I am still smoke-free. Very excellently cool.

I am starting to notice the details of my life once more. The funny situations I find myself in, the way Luke pronounces something..ect...I take this as good news that I am emerging from my bad period and am able to see a little outside myself again. Thank God. How miserable it is to only be able to see your own irritable self.

Anyway, yesterday Tim called from Utah where he is visiting his middle daughter Remy. After speaking to Tim for awhile he passed the phone to Remy. She in hushed tones said she needed to speak to me and ask me something, but could we not tell her Dad. I was imediately afraid she was pregnant and braced myself for the news. Fortunately that wasn't it.

After my assurances she could tell me anything, she paused, and I waited for her to speak.

She says,"Do you think its okay to accept gifts from a guy that you don't like?"

That kind of surprised me. I quickly spanned my experience and gathered up what I remembered. I ask her, "What kind of gifts?" I'm thinking like flowers? or like furs?

She declines to answer. So of course I'm thinking its more along the line of furs. Yeah, thats hard. I ask who the guy is.

She says, "Oh, no one really......he's just 37 and likes to buy me stuff."

Now its my turn to pause. Hmmm. I get the feeling though she's waiting for me to advise.This is when something happens that I can only contribute to God's awesome timing and grace.

I say, "You know, I know how you must feel. Its so nice to get gifts. Especially really cool ones..." She agrees heartly. Then I say, "But the thing is, looking back on my life when I was exactly where you are, I think I would do it differently if I had the choice to go back."

She sounds surprised. "Huh? Why?"

I am not totally clear why yet and stutter when I tell her, "I feel like by accepting gifts from someone you don't care for, you are using them. She agrees...with a," uh hmmm".

As if the words are being whispered in my ear, I say, " ....and when you use someone for your own purpose, somehow, you diminish yourself and them. You are setting a value for yourself that is too low..."

The word diminish rings in my ears and as I say this to her, I think of the times in my life that my behavior diminished the person God had made me to be. I realize God is telling me something at the same time I am speaking this to Remy.

Remy and I talk a little longer about the value you give yourself and others. After we hang up, however, I am left to contemplate our conversation alone.

I wonder how often we consider how valuable we are to God. What would happen to us if we knew how much we were loved? Would we be different?

I think so.