Month: February 2020

From 11 years of age until I got married at 18, I earned money by babysitting.  I went to a medium-sized church with a great number of young families, so I had jobs aplenty.  During the school year, my Friday evenings and Saturdays were often spent caring for little ones while their parents would get away for a few hours to catch their breath.  Most summer days were dedicated to hanging out with these same little ones while their parents completed whatever tasks they had to accomplish that day. I was with some of these families almost as often as I was with my own and was greatly influenced by some of the moms who would entrust me with their children.

One such mom was named Carla.  Carla was a warm, outgoing woman who loved deeply.  13 years my senior, she related well to teenagers as it hadn’t been too many years that she was a teenager herself.  She was a young mom with one child when I first began babysitting for her. Her son was a wavy-haired blondie with big blue eyes and chubby cheeks.  Ryan and I hit it off right away and he quickly became one of my favorites to babysit because of his spunk and big heart. Carla was in school at the time, so Ryan and I spent many warm, summer days together at our local swimming pool while Carla was in class.  I would sit on the edge of the shallow end while he would play energetically which was true to his nature. I don’t know what it was, but the kid and I just clicked.

 Over time, my relationship with Carla developed into more of a big sister/little sister bond than a young mom occasionally hiring a teenage girl to babysit her child.  Carla (who by this point had 2 children) and her husband would invite me over often. At times it was to babysit and other times it was to simply hang out with their family. Time has a way of blurring memories, so I don’t even remember what we would do when I was at their house.  I just remember how I felt: secure, accepted, and comfortable. I was a young, quiet teenage girl trying to figure life out. I was insecure, still missing my dad who had passed away 5 or so years before, and was in an ongoing process of trying to work through the dynamics of a blended family.  I know that God put Carla in my life as she connected so deeply with me. She spent hours upon hours with me and took me many of the places that she went including prenatal checkups. I didn’t care where we were or what we were doing, I just loved being with her. She took a great interest in my life and loved me well.

During my freshman year of high school, I found myself in an unhealthy relationship with a guy that I am going to call John out of respect for his family with whom I still have contact.  John had a very sad childhood and carried the baggage of that into our relationship. Due to neglect that he suffered and broken relationships with those closest to him, his biggest fear was more loss.  That translated into a very controlling relationship. We are all broken people, aren’t we? We all have our baggage. We all have our faults. I hold nothing against John, honestly. If anything, I feel compassion because I know how incredibly deep his wounds were.  During our on-again, off-again 2 and a half year relationship, I did not make the best choices. I also didn’t understand how to set boundaries and, being a nurturer, I often overlooked and excused harmful behaviors.  

During one of our break-ups, I began opening up about the unhealthy nature of our relationship.  I was very beaten down at this point and was racked with guilt and shame. I’ll never forget the day I confided in Carla.  We were riding in her car through town and the conversation had such an impact on me that I actually still remember exactly where we were.  She began asking me questions and as I answered, her responses were filled with such grace. She did not offer unsolicited advice nor did she criticize me in any way.  She didn’t try to lord her wisdom over me, rather, she began sharing with me about her years as a teenager and some of the struggles that she had. She put herself in my place and instead of showing any sort of judgment, she showed complete empathy.  

Unfortunately, my relationship with John ended in a very tragic way.  On the morning of May 10, 1993, I talked to him mid-morning at my school locker and everything seemed fine.  After saying goodbye, I began walking toward my next class but felt the urge to turn around.  John was still leaning against my locker watching me walk to my class. He smiled and waved and watched until I was no longer in sight.  That would be the last time I’d see him. I later found out that he walked out of school about an hour later after telling some of his friends that he may not be back.  This was the last day John was seen alive. A 15-day search and investigation ensued but to no avail. I was called out of class a few days after he was last seen and was interviewed by 2 private investigators.  I was in no way a suspect in any sort of nefarious activity, but the investigators were trying to find any possible leads that would take them to John. To say the waiting was stressful is an understatement, especially at 17 years of age.  I did everything in my power to keep myself busy. I mention this time of life in this tribute to Carla because she was my saving grace through this whole ordeal.  

On May 25, I was hanging out at Carla’s house which I often did.  I have no doubt that she had invited me over this particular day to keep my mind busy. That evening, the phone rang, so I answered it since she was putting the kids to bed and her husband was resting on the couch.  A lady from church asked to speak to Carla, but I told her she’d have to call her back. Gwen said it was an emergency and I could tell by the urgency in her voice that I must pass the phone to Carla.  Within a few minutes, she came and found me.

“Kendra, they found John.  He’s dead.”  

Life had become too much for John.  He had been hurt severely by an immediate family member the day before he disappeared.  He had told me all about it, but I didn’t realize just how deeply wounded he was because he told me in a very nonchalant way (though now I know that this was a way to mask his pain).

I can’t tell you how much it meant being at Carla’s house when I received this news.  I was in a home where I knew I was well-loved and supported and I know it was completely orchestrated by God.  He knew that I needed Carla at that moment. Simply being in her presence in those moments after such devastating news was so reassuring.

Carla, I am a TERRIBLE long-distance friend.  I do not keep in touch as I should, but I pray you know how much I love you.  The impact you had on me as a preteen and teenager was immense. You poured so much time into my life and helped shape me into the person I am today.  Every hour that you spent with me (and there were hundreds of them) is time that I will forever cherish. I hope you feel honored by this post, though I don’t feel like this even begins to express the amount of appreciation I have for you.  

And now for my readers, who touched your life as a teenager?  Who selflessly poured time into your life as Carla did mine? Reach out and let them know the impact they had on your life.  Don’t Wait until it’s too late! Send them flowers, send a text, mail a card, take them out to lunch. And then post about it on my FACEBOOK page.  Please take this challenge with me as explained in the post found HERE. I hope this will eventually take off and we will all step out of our comfort zones in order to reach out to others.  Whatever you do, DON’T WAIT!!!

When I was 11 years old, my church hired a new youth pastor.  Tim Mobley arrived with his wife, Pam, and their 1-year-old daughter, Joy.  Tim and Pam were a young couple, just in their early thirties (maybe even late twenties?) and were easy to love.  You know the kind of people that you feel like you’ve known forever as soon as you meet them? The kind that are super friendly and make you feel special every time they talk to you?  That was Tim and Pam. Pam was outgoing, warm, and always knew what to say. Tim was a crazy, fun guy who was a blast to be around.  

Shortly after coming on staff at our church, Pam asked me if I’d like to babysit.  I had loved children since I was a small child myself, so I jumped at the chance. I had just turned 11 and Joy was 13 months old (we are 10 years apart, almost to the day), and I’m not exactly sure why Pam trusted me since I was so young, but this was the start of a beautiful relationship.  I spent many, many days at Tim and Pam’s babysitting. Joy was like my little sister that I never had but always wanted.  

Tim and Pam were not typical youth pastors.  Their home was open several evenings a week to our youth group.  We’d congregate at their house and simply hang out with no agenda.  They would both invest hours upon hours in all of us as they took the time to learn the intricacies of our lives and what was important to us.  Pam would dig deep into our hearts and minds as she’d focus on whomever she was talking to at the time with her undivided attention. She was sincerely interested in what we had to say and that was obvious by the way she would actively listen while asking questions and encouraging.  I’ve never had a conversation with Pam where I left feeling down. Tim loved to laugh and have a good time with us, but he could get serious and lovingly challenge us when needed. Like Pam, he really heard us when we spoke and always had the best advice.  

Wednesday night was our youth service and our youth group quickly grew in size.  Tim and Pam spoke about Jesus every week in a real and exciting way. I had been raised in church but had never heard the gospel quite as they presented it.  They challenged us to really get to know Jesus. They reminded us of His love and of the importance of following Him and sharing Him with others. They took us deeper and deeper into His Word and encouraged us to do the same on our own time.  They taught us about the dangers of drinking and partying and premarital sex. They touched openly on every subject that pertained to teenagers. And not only did they teach us these things, but they lived it. Their faith was real and genuine and contagious.

Tim and Pam’s time at our church obviously didn’t last forever.  When it came time for them to leave, I was crushed. They had found a position at a church about 45 minutes away.  As a teenager, changes like that can feel devastating. The teen years can be so difficult. Trying to figure out who you are, what you believe, and how you want to live your life can be gut-wrenching to work through.  Finding someone who supports and encourages you through that is priceless. So when they left, it was a big blow.

I don’t know how it came to be, but once they were settled in their new house, Tim began picking me up on many Friday afternoons so that I could spend the weekend with them.  He would come on Friday around dinnertime, which was rush hour, and the entire trip (from their house to mine and back) would take about 2 hours of his time. I would spend the weekend with them and soak in every moment.  I’ve often wondered why Tim sacrificed his time for me. Why would they take the time to open their home to me weekend after weekend? I believe the answer to this question is easy. God had His hand upon me. He used both Tim and Pam to pour into me and show me His love.  I was at a complicated stage of life, still navigating life without my dad as well as adjusting to life in a blended family. Their influence had a huge impact on my spiritual formation and I still to this day think frequently of things they taught me.

One of the things I love the most about Tim and Pam is that even 30 years later, they are still working with youth.  For some people, youth ministry is a stepping stone to a higher position. For the Mobley’s, it was their life calling.  At this point in their lives, they have touched thousands of teenagers and young adults. I feel INCREDIBLY blessed that I am one of those lives.  They now live in Belgium where they have lived for several years and have a non-profit organization called Outpost Expeditions.  Check out their website HERE.

Tim and Pam, thank you so much for all the time you spent with me so many years ago. Tim, you became more like a father figure to many of us than a youth pastor. I love that you were never afraid to question decisions that I made, yet would respect whatever choice I ultimately came to (for example, when I decided to get married at 18). Yes, I was blessed with 2 great fathers, but you were yet another powerful male role model in my life. Pam, thank you for the hours and hours that you spent with me. For recognizing and encouraging my gifts and talents. You are the one who ignited my love for singing and I still use that gift today as I serve on the worship team at my church. Thank you for singing loudly as you sat next to me on so many Sundays so I could hear your beautiful harmonies. I will forever say that you are the one who taught me how to easily harmonize to any tune I hear. Pam, there are words that you said over and over to me which echo often in my mind. “Kendra, you may have lost your biological father, but God will forever be your daddy. All you have to do is climb up in His lap and talk to Him.” These are words that have gotten me through many rough days. I love you both with all that I have in me and pray that I will one-day touch half as many lives as you have.

Now for my readers, if you’ve been taking this journey with me, you should have contacted a few of your life influencers by this point as mentioned in the blog post found here.  Whom have you contacted? Who touched your life as a teenager? Who poured into your life and influenced your spiritual formation?  Don’t wait to reach out to them and let them know. Send them a card, give them a call, take them out to dinner. Look outside of yourself and reach out!  And then let us know whom you contacted on our FACEBOOK PAGE.  

Last, if you’d like to take this journey of reaching out weekly to your own personal life influencers, subscribe to this blog in the right-hand column of the homepage to get notifications when a new post is up.  We are told in Hebrews 10:24-25 to spur one another on toward love and good deeds and to encourage one another. So, that is my role here – to spur you on. REACH OUT! I am urging you to look beyond your small corner of the world and let those who have touched your life know how they have done so.  Encourage them as we are told to do. And Don’t Wait until it’s too late!

Thank you for such a wonderful response to my last post which can be found HERE.  It was obvious that Diane Shelton has touched many lives over the years. I hope she felt honored and loved by every comment and word that was written about her.

This week I am featuring a woman whom I am blessed to call Aunt.  My Aunt Cheryl has influenced my life many times over the years, but there was one summer in particular that she went above and beyond.  Let me give you a little backstory.

The spring after my dad died,  my mom got remarried. A kind, soft-spoken, Christian man, who was a single father of a 7-year old son, visited our church one Sunday my mom caught his eye.  Mom said as soon as they made eye contact, she knew he was going to call her. He did, in fact, just 2 weeks later. The next 3 months were a whirlwind and our family of 3 became a family of 5.  I was absolutely thrilled to have a new dad and brother. 

When summer hit, my aunt offered to take my brothers and me for 6 weeks.  She has 2 children who are right around our ages, so she knew it would be a fun summer for all of us. My parents were working hard to join two households and my Aunt Cheryl recognized that time alone was just what the newlyweds needed.  

I’ve often wondered if my Aunt Cheryl knew what she was getting herself into.  I was still extremely fragile emotionally as my dad had only been gone for about 7 months.  Back in the mid-eighties, the general consensus was that children were resilient and would bounce back after a loss.  There were no support groups and no one put their children in counseling. I can attest to the fact that this belief is wrong.  I did not know how to verbalize my feelings, so I simply cried. Alot. I developed a fear of more loss, so I needed an adult with me at all times.

I know that having 3 extra kids for 6 weeks had to be exhausting.  Meal preparations, laundry, cleaning, refereeing arguments between two 7-year olds, an 8-year old, an 11-year old and a 12-year old.  And then there was me. I was a full-time job all on my own. Aunt Cheryl never got a break that summer. Everywhere she went, I had to be with her.  And the times that she went out alone (because God knows she needed it for her sanity), I would stand at the door and cry while she left. I remember her dropping us off one night at a gym.  I have no clue what we were there for (maybe skating?) and I’m pretty sure they had to call her to come back for me because I was a basket case.  

But, as exhausted as she had to be, Aunt Cheryl never let me know.  I felt nothing but love and understanding from her. I remember crawling up in her lap countless times and she’d simply hold me close.  She let me be her little shadow that entire summer and I felt safe as long as she was around. 

Even though it was a very emotional summer, Aunt Cheryl still managed to make it a great one for us.  She bought all 5 of us kids our own pack of playing cards which brought about many, many games of War, Solitaire, Spit, and many others.  I learned how to swim that summer as we spent hours every day in her in-ground pool. The warm, Carolina sun is good for anyone’s soul, especially if water and cousins are involved.  We all had a favorite song during that summer, so Aunt Cheryl bought us all a 45 RPM album of our favorite songs. We would listen over and over and sing our hearts out. My favorite song that summer was “Hello” by Lionel Richie and I still feel nostalgic on the rare occasion that I hear that song.  

My Uncle Tony (whom I love with all of my heart, too) was at work during the week, but in the evenings and on weekends he was also an angel.  He was always so kind, loving, and patient with all of us. He is a quiet man, but his presence was also very reassuring for me.

The summer of ‘84 could have been very different.  It had the potential to be a very negative memory, but my aunt made it anything but that.  And, who knows, maybe I wasn’t as emotional as I remember being. Maybe this was just the way I felt inside. But, no matter what, voluntarily taking on 3 extra children and doing so with such grace deserves recognition, even 35 years later. Thank you, Aunt Cheryl, for loving me when I was probably tough to love. Being a mom now myself, I know that clingy kids can be very tiring.  You’ve been supportive of me my entire life and have made a difference in my life. 

And now for my dear readers:  Who had a huge impact on you as a child?  Who opened their home to you and showed you unconditional love?  Who has loved you through a major loss? Who spent time with you and helped make you the person you are today?  Don’t wait! Send that person a card, give them a call, send them a text, send them flowers, take them out to lunch, or make a simple video on your phone.  Let them know how they’ve impacted you. And then be sure to post about it on our Facebook page. Don’t wait until it’s too late! 

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