Iron Daughter

Well, it has been 7 years since I was baptized. 7 lents.

The first, I tried the Catholic fasting ritual… you know, no meat on Fridays… maybe I give up coffee, or social media…

Second, I started dating my husband and a few short months later we were married. I didn’t fast that year.

Third year, I didn’t give anything up that year, either. We went to my Mom’s for Easter and made gingerbread piles of icing and bruised egos.

Fourth year, still nothing.

Fifth, still nothing. We moved to Nashville. Nashville was as short lived as me thinking I was bisexual. Dear Lord, please forgive me. Trust me, I’m embarrassed. Trauma had resurfaced, and we both know where that came from. But, we lived out our penance, with the Army being just another United States Government Institution, 5 car accidents, a totaled car, a stolen car, my childhood cat dying, our car window getting smashed into more than once, rucksacks and guitars being stolen, next door neighbors trying to leave their baby with me immediately after introduction, and over $2k a month for a cockroach infested apartment in possibly the worst part of Nashville. We packed up and moved to Ashland City, TN and began going to church again. Man, did I have some things to repent for… My husband had his labrum surgically repaired. Gone were the days of powerlifting. For years we had just been coping. Not sure what we were doing. Lost and waiting, not really sure what for. Young and married. We knew it was divine. We read anything we could, except for The Bible. The Kybalion. Leaves of Grass. The Prose Eda. The Egyptian Book of the Dead. New age false doctrine. It is absolutely insane how in one year, I was lost again. And, it is no one’s fault but my own. It just goes to show, we are not in control, even if we are born again. Whether you are a newborn, just a teenager, 22 years old, or nearing your death bed, there is still time for the prince of lies, who rules over this world, to pull you away from the One True Living God. You must remain strong in faith. I knew I had been deceived, still I was held captive by the Devil and his angels. I got tattoos I wouldn’t have gotten just 4 years ago. I knew they defiled me and didn’t honor the body that my heavenly father has lent me. I hate to say it, but Gram was right… I do regret them. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, called me to his kingdom, and so quickly I nailed him to the cross. The Devil knew my weaknesses from all those years I spent with him. Praying to “the universe” believing if I just imagined something hard enough, wrote it down this many times, wrote all the “I Will” affirmations, aligned my chakras, put a purple plant in the northwest corner of my house but only on Tuesdays in the year of the rat, listened to the healing frequencies, threw salt over my shoulder, or whatever, I could have whatever I wanted and all my problems would go away and I had the power. He capitalized. He knew where I was most insecure because I told him by my actions, my words, and my thoughts. God wasn’t fast enough, I needed instant gratification, and faith wasn’t enough.

After I was baptized and finished my degree, I went to my biological Father, he had an internship for me and I needed to get away from Sodom. I was away from churches, though if only I asked I could have borrowed the car, and went. Again, I was without discipline, with fear of rejection, afraid to be a burden. I was afraid of being rejected by the world around me. I didn’t know being a Christian meant being outcasted by everyone you ever knew.

The best thing I could have done, was marry my husband, who at the time had fallen away from the Father, but that is his testimony. After the Lord took all our vices away from us, after we had been beaten by the world around us, my husband picked up the Bible. This was the Bible that Father Casey gave me as a gift to prepare for my baptism, all those years ago. He read the entire thing in record time, faster than any of the other stupid books we read in it’s place. He started saying things like “I’m trying to live by the book” and his perspective and outlook started to change. He led and I followed.

We attended church again. We continued to look for one that felt, right… Nothing really did, but it had us on the right path. The Lord revealed to us how abominable we had been, to him and to each other. We threw around the “D” (divorce) word like it was confetti at the Superbowl. That was always subtly the answer to all our grievances. But, the Lord wanted us to marry each other a long time ago, before we even knew it. It was only revealed to me when we reconnected, but he was always pointing me towards him, again and again since high school. The Lord doesn’t want any marriage to separate. Marriage is Holy. It is the perfect image and likeness of God. He didn’t put us together to be separated.

Though, after 119 days (Feb 14 2020 – June 12 2020, the time it took for us to get married), I didn’t know what to tell my parents. They had never met him. Obviously, I didn’t tell them beforehand. And afterwards, I gave them any excuse that would raise the least amount of questions: “Hey! You guys know, if it doesn’t workout we can always get divorced… It’s the distance, I want to date him but he’s too far away… If we get married, we can live together…” But, I knew… God chose him for me. Shoot, he was brought into this world 11 days after me! Must’ve been the time he needed to heal from that missing rib. But, how crazy to believe God wanted us together…? How do you say that to your parents, friends, and family that already think you’re destined to live in a tent under a highway.

By this point they knew you as the crazy girl whose only sense of self-worth was tied to if a man desired her. She flunked out of engineering from prioritizing “fun” over obedience and discipline. When she was alone, homeless, and literally lost, she threw the last box of her belongings into a donation bin. According to many, these things “defined” her. Even the things she gave away: most notably Jack’s Mannequin and Cartel records, band tees, sheet music, stuffed animals from her childhood, an old froggy CD case that still had the pokemon movie soundtrack, Now That’s What I Call Music! 8, a Hillary Duff and Miley Cyrus album, and so much more. She had NOTHING left.

She was driving to her Grammy’s, a drive she had done time and again, yet suddenly she didn’t know where she was. Her phone was acting up and she couldn’t even get her GPS to work. The sun was starting to set and as the night grew closer the panic began to set in. She’s at a red light in Meriden, CT when she cries out, in fear and trembling, and there she had the “delusion”. The person behind her points to the right, suggesting that’s where she should go. They were familiar, but she knew it couldn’t have been them. Today, I know that this was an angel. She turns right, drives up a steep hill, and parks outside Saint Faustina’s Cathedral and weeps her poor defeated heart out. It begins pouring down rain. She doesn’t know if anyone is even inside but she’s determined to try. She knocks and a woman lets her in. She sits before this giant statue of Jesus Christ, nailed to the cross, and all she can get out is “I need him.” Then 119 days later (December 22, 2018 – April 20, 2019), she was baptized at Saint Francis of Assisi in New Britain, CT by Father Casey. She felt His light fill her heart, like nothing she had ever experienced before. None of her family was there. Her former life had vanished. The people she knew were different.

What would have happened if I just stuck to my guns? What would have happen if I told them, I’m listening to the Holy Spirit? Well, I didn’t even know that’s what was happening then. I didn’t know what it meant to listen to the Lord. I didn’t get that far before I fell away and followed that deceitful serpent. It wasn’t long before I let them convince me I was, in fact, crazy. This is before I knew that it is okay and even encouraged to be a crazy Christian. It is a narrow road following God’s will. I’ve paid for choosing the other way. However, ultimately, Christ paid the greatest price and because of him, I am saved over and over. It is my prayer that he will use me for his glory. If it is my judgement that I am sent to the pit, I am more deserving of that than to enter Heaven. His mercy is more.

Year six, we found it. Our Church, our home. William enters seminary. My step mother falls ill and I spend 6 weeks with her and my father. I do what I didn’t do the first time, I start reading the bible cover to cover. This time I’m reading it slow, soaking in as much as I possibly can. I watch our church’s sermons online before they even know who I am. When I get back we become members of this Church. For lent, I give up coffee, gluten, saturated fats, and processed foods. That was a bit much, but at least I’m back. William has officially stolen my bible, but it’s okay I get a new one. I’m doing women’s bible study where we study 1 Corinthians, Sunday school where we study Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and James. I’m asking William questions as he learns Hebrew and studies the Torah and the Prophets. We are doing Hebrew flash cards and freaking out our cats. We learn what a Christian marriage is. I get laid off right before family vacation, husband loses sleep = I lose sleep, and we have began experiencing infertility. We loosen our belts on a family vacation and the whole world turns upside down. My parents think I’m oppressed, in a cult. Turns out they aren’t the only ones that think this. Satan tries to pull me away again. Thanks given to our Heavenly Father, we pass this test. We go on our first mission to South Africa, and pass the test of mineral bath water and Ethiopian Airlines. I visit St. Patrick’s Cathedral on 5th Avenue during the holidays, for FREE. I share the gospel in California. Christ called my mother, and she answered.

Year seven, I give up planning. I stop trying to find other ways to make money. I stop looking for ways to monetize every inch of my existence. I stop buying processed foods. I make do with what we have before I buy anything. I am now an outfit repeater. I stop worrying about what I’m going to eat and what I’m going to wear. I start a vegetable garden from seeds. William gets work at a greenhouse and gets invited to preach on Palm Sunday. Since last year I’ve made it through The Gospel according to John by Easter Sunday. The Lord provided everything I’ve ever prayed for, greater than I could even imagine. He reassures me that there is nothing I can do to fulfill my own prayers but to let go and have faith in him. He is in control and he loves me and showers me and those around me with blessings. He brings good works to me. It is his will, not mine. It is only fitting that he named my husband, Will.