Sunday, July 03, 2005

Well...you know what they say about preacher's kids. They say we are the worst. I don't really know that I believe that, but I understand that preacher's kids, like me, face the same trials that other children face, regardless of what their parents do. I suppose it is because everyone expects the preacher's kid to be the "perfect" child, but as all children, we do not always follow in the footsteps or go by the guidelines, that our parents put forth.

It would be hard to say how many sermons I heard, and how many doors of churches I've walked through, in my life. But, there did come a time in my life, at age 13, that I did heed the words I heard from my Dad, as he spoke from the pulpit, and I did realize that even me...the preacher's kid, was a sinner, and needed God's forgiveness for the sins in my life. Sins? ....you might ask....what sins could a 13 yr. old have? It's probably not that a child of 13 has many sins, but as I was taugh, that when one reaches the "age of accountability"... knowing right from wrong...that from that point on, our lives should be dedicated to doing right, and dedicated to trying to live a Christ like life. So, at this age, I asked Christ to enter my heart. I promised to live for Him, and make Him the center of my life.

My life as a preacher's kids, I don't really think, was much different than alot of other children. I'm sure I went to church more often that some did, and to this day, I say that I'm so perinoid of tornado's because I was 18, before I ever saw the ending to the Wizard of Oz. We always had to leave in the middle of it to go to church, as it was always shown on a Sunday evening. For all I knew, Dorothy never made it home from Oz, and was stuck there...FOREVER....LOL It is true....I was probably at church everytime the doors were open. Sunday morning...Sunday school, and church, Sunday evening, Wednesday evening, every revival, or special service, choir practice, church dinner...you name it. If something was going on at the church...I was there.

Being the "preacher's kid" could sure have it's advantages at times. Especially with members of the church. But being the "preacher's kid" , especially where my Dad was concerned, didn't really make much difference. To him, I wasn't the "preacher's kid"....I was HIS kid! I sure didn't get any special treatment from him. lol I will never forget the Sunday, that I was sitting next to the last row, with alot of my friends, my Dad in the middle of his sermon. As young teens will do...(even in church)...we whispered, and giggled about all kinds of silly stuff...doing our best to be quite. lol I was a little oblivious to what was going on around me, until it dawned on me what I was hearing.... "LEVONNE....LEVONNE". When your Dad, has to call out your name....FROM THE PULPIT....and preceed to repremand you in front of the ENTIRE congregation, for not being quiet, and paying attention to the sermon....WELL...needless to say, I felt like sliding right off the pew, and onto the floor. You can bet also, that when we got home from church that day....I heard MORE on that topic!

Our church was one that seemed to preach against the worldly things, like movies(because, as you know, us young teens would spend more time on the back row, MAKING OUT, instead of watching the movie), cards(because, as you know...lol, this could lead to the horrible sin of GAMBLING) and dancing(OMG...you might rub up against someone, and put lustful thoughts in your head, or someone will see you making such prevockitive moves, and thoughts of lust will go through their heads)...although, it was one thing that you never much heard my dad preach about. He wasn't quite as strict on some of those things as other pastors. There were some things that I know I didn't get to do as often, or at all, because of how my parents thought it might look to members of the congregation. The town we lived in was predominately Catholic, and most of my friends were of that faith, but my parents never hendered me from spending time with them, or having them as friends. Probably the one thing that I did miss out on that I wanted so desperately to do, was to take dance. All of my "Catholic" friends did, but my parents knew that there would be some in the church that would not think this was right. I wanted desperately to be able to take ballet, or tap, and did at times, have a hard time understanding why I couldn't, as I considered this an "art", and couldn't seem to understand how anyone could say this was wrong, or how they could even begin to associate it with such horrible dances as the twist...hehehehe I'm certain that there would have been members that would have had "heart failure", had they seen me dressed up and dancing, in the small neighborhood programs that we'd put on. LOL I learned ballet steps from my friends, also some tap, and jazz.

From the time I was a small child, to about the age of 15...roller skating was always one of my most favorite things to do. Our youth groups from church always had skating parties, and I was there on Saturday afternoons, or Sunday afternoons, as often as I could be. I do remember one couple ...or lady in our church, that attempted to question by Dad one time, about how in the world they could allow me to spend time at the "ROLLER RINK"....as far as SHE was concerned...I might as well have been doing the "boogy woogy". It was just another form of "dancing" to her....the dreaded sin! LOL Well, my parents may have put their foot down about me taking dance, but I definately remember them putting their foot down about the roller skating...and this time it was in my favor...making it clear to this lady, that they didn't feel there was anything wrong with my roller skating. She quickly shut up, and we never heard any more on that matter...lol

There are many things that I was able to do that I so enjoyed, that I might never have done, had I not been the daughter of a minister. Probably, some of my best times were spent at church camps in the summer. I got to meet such great kids, from our churches all over the state. We'd always have so much fun at camp. There was always ball games, or swimming, crafts, group singings around the bonfires, and wennie roast, and naturally church services that we attended. I always made such wonderful friends.

When I was a freshmen in high school, we were able to travel with a group of church members to Mexico. Here we visited some of our missions, and would go to places where we had set up churches. Of course, we also got to see sights of great interest...attending bull fights, and climing Aztec pyramids. When I was a sophomore, we took the same type of trip to Panama, visiting the Panama Canal, and other interest in the area and our missions. These are experiences that I'm so fortunate to have been able to have.

I have had people ask...."Didn't you ever feel like you were neglected as a child, because of the devotion that my parents had to God, and to the church?" I actually laughed, when they said that. It was true that my parents were gone alot a times, when I was a child. My dad would be called to hold a revival in another town, or they would attend an adult church camp. But NEVER in my entire life, did I feel as though they were putting the church above me. I had wonderful, and loving grandparents, that I could never find the right words to describe how wonderful they were, and when my parents were gone, that is where you would always find me. I loved being able to spend these times with my Poppy, and Granny, but never felt like I was being shoved to the side by my parents, because the church was more important, but felt double the love, while with them.

I couldn't have asked for better parents. I couldn't have asked for better role models, or guidelines in my life. They taught me so much....in word, and in deed. They taught me that ALL are God's children. God is NO repector of persons...color, or creed. We are all equal in the eyes of God. It is something that I've been taught, and from my childhood, I still recall the song that I use to sing so loudly as a child...

"Jesus loves the little children. All the children of the world. Red, and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world." Those words have stayed with me through the years, and even today, I know that Jesus loves all of us, regardless of the color of our skin. We are all, so precious to Him.

I look back on my life now, as I grow older, on the many things that meant so much to me in my childhood. The memories of my parents, my Poppy, and Granny, the joys I had, and love that I felt, during those times. Now, I thank God that I was able to grow up in a home where God was loved so much, and to have people in my life who loved me unconditionally, people that you could literally see everyday, the love of God flowing from them. This is what I saw each and everytime I would look at my parents, or grandparents. And this love of God that they had, poured out onto me, in unnumberable measures. I suppose, in the long run, it was seeing this kind of living, day to day, from them, that eventually led me back, to allowing God to be first and foremost in my life. They were those who "practiced what they preached", and it showed in their lives, and those that knew them would testify to that.

God blessed me with such wonderful parents. Parents that loved Him. I am eternally grateful!