Hi friends! On today’s episode of Draw Near to Me, we will begin Paulette’s faith journey. For those who prefer to read, today’s content is also posted below. I first met Paulette years ago in a church disciple group. She stood out as someone that was very loving and tenderhearted. Her kindness is clearly evident, and I think that draws many people to her. As I got to know her better, I gained a greater appreciation for her strength in God. Then, when I learned more of her story that she has shared, I realized I had greatly underestimated just how deep and vast her strength actually was. To walk through some of the fiery challenges she has in her life and still emerge as someone that is so kind in spirit and loving is truly amazing. Paulette, thank you so much for your courage, strength, and authenticity in sharing part of your faith journey. If you enjoy this post, please share it with others using the share button below and consider doing a free or paid subscription. With that, let’s dive into Paulette’s story. Enjoy!
I have known there was a purpose for my life from the very beginning. Even though it wasn’t until the last 20 years or so that I thought more in depth about what that purpose actually was, I knew I had one. I always had a sense that God chose for me to live.
My parents met as teenagers. On what was maybe their 5th date, they got married. Both were only 18 years old. The funny story passed down from my uncles and aunts was that my paternal grandmother had a fit when she found out they married so young. She yelled at my dad, “I’ve never thought about killing anybody before, but I’m not so sure about today!” Apparently, in the hopes of smoothing things over my daddy said, “Well, you told me you needed somebody to help you.”
Although my mom and dad were married for 57 years, they experienced many challenges throughout their lives. I was born premature and wasn’t supposed to make it. It was decades ago when being born too early posed a significant risk of death. I spent the first 8 weeks of my life in an incubator before I was released. I like to tease and say that my love for the well-lit tropics, sunshine, and warm weather is because of my first couple months in that incubator! My mother and father both said that no matter what the doctors told them, they never doubted I was going to live. They had faith that I was going to make it and here I am.
After I was born, my parents moved about 50 miles west of Savannah to live with my paternal grandparents. The doctors said l had to stay in a room that was at least 90 degrees to keep my body temperature up. So, my grandparents made sure they kept a fire going every day to keep me warm. I spent a great deal of my first 6 years at my grandmother’s house. I wish the world could have known her. She had such wisdom and taught me valuable life lessons. It was my grandmother who taught me to trust in myself.
My parents continued to try to expand our family. When I was maybe in the 1st or 2nd grade, they started putting mom to bed whenever she was pregnant. I did what I could to help her, but at seven years old what can you really do? Over the years she would periodically become pregnant and go through another "bed phase”. However, each time she miscarried the baby, often at around 4 months.
The hardest loss occurred when I was about 11 or 12 years old. Mom was about 7 months pregnant before she went into labor. It was a boy. I knew he lived for a couple of moments, but that was the closest I ever was to having a sibling. After a while the doctors told mom she could not keep trying to get pregnant. It was too hard on her body. Mom had a total of nine miscarriages after I was born. As a result, I realized I was privileged to be here. Somewhere in the big scheme of things, I knew God had allowed for me to survive.
My mom and dad were good parents, but I did not grow up in the church. My mother was raised in a Presbyterian orphanage, so she had a foundation that she taught me. My dad was not a churchgoer, but he loved singing gospel music. Each Sunday morning, we listened to gospel music. That was our worship.
Even though we did not go to church, mom knew what it was like to be cared for by one growing up. Her childhood was hard to say the least. Mom’s dad died when she was four. It was at that time the church stepped in and took care of her family. They fed them, gave them hand me downs, school clothes etc. During that time, she experienced the church coming to help her family.
When she was about 8 or 9 years old, her mom died. She temporarily lived with an aunt but was sent to an orphanage shortly thereafter. I think mom was scarred by all those experiences, so she wanted to make sure that, to the best of her ability, I never experienced any of that.
My parents always wanted me to be a kind person. It was pounded into me that there was never a reason to be unkind. Of course, you can defend yourself, but there was never an excuse to be mean, cruel, or disrespectful to anybody. It did not matter what someone’s skin color was, their doctrine, or where they fell on the economic scale, kindness was to be extended to everyone. It was something I carried my whole life because of them. Another impactful lesson they taught me was that family was before all. We are a unit and have each other’s backs. Those were some of the greatest things I gained from how my mom and dad raised me.
My family moved around a lot. At one point, I probably went to six different schools over a 5-year span. Even though my parents did not go to church, I was always interested in going. I had friends that went to church that invited me. As a result, I have been to so many different denominations. The Church of the Nazarene, the Baptist Church, the Lutheran Church, you name it and I have been there.
When I was 13, I went to church with some friends that were our neighbors in Augusta, GA. I went with them every Sunday and became friends with the pastor’s kids. It was there that I accepted Jesus. I don’t recall there being anything different that day that caused me to do it. I guess it was the impact of going time and time again and listening to the sermons.
One day I just had a feeling. I knew it was time. I can’t give a reason why I knew or even remember what the sermon was about, but there was something that came over me. What I can remember was there was no way anyone could have stopped me from going to the altar that day to accept Jesus as my Savior.
After surrendering to Christ, my friends began pressuring me to join their church. I told them I could not do that because I did not believe all the things they did. Their church had very strict rules that did not make sense to me. I saw nothing wrong with me wearing jeans or going to a dance. I loved to dance; don’t tell me I can’t dance! I believed Jesus was my Savior and He got on the cross for me, but I did not believe he was going to be upset if I wore jeans. I could never correlate all those rules and Jesus together. It was not how I understood Christ, so I never joined their church. I knew I would not live up to their expectations and could not adopt all their beliefs.
Of course, it wasn’t too long after I had accepted Jesus that we moved again. We went back to live at my grandmother’s house. We then built a house in a more remote area. Beginning in the middle of 9th grade, we stayed in that house that was way out in the woods. There was no telephone, and no neighbors close by. I loved school since it was my outlet, but I really had no close friends around. Each day I pretty much went to school and came home to mom and dad. However, I did manage to find a way to get to church.
When I was a freshman in high school, Daddy let me take the car to go to church. I definitely wasn’t supposed to be driving, but since we lived way out in the woods, he let me drive to the church down the road. So, starting around the age of 14, I took myself to church. Nobody had to go with me. When I actually got a driver’s license, I could go to the bigger church that was a few roads down.
When I was in high school, things began to change. Dad began drinking pretty heavily. Then after getting injured, he became addicted to pain medication. I grew up knowing my dad to be a caring man. He was a little rough around the edges sometimes, but he was a person you could depend on. However, the addictions changed my dad as I knew him.
One day his behavior hit a tipping point, and I realized that although I loved him, I could no longer trust him as I used to.
To be continued.
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Introductory music credits: Music from #Uppbeat (free for Creators!): https://uppbeat.io/t/ben-johnson/woke-me-at-the-break-of-day License code: KP0BQWT6GUXGFIHT
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